Bonding, booze and bhajis: how not to have a staff meeting

We never have staff meetings. We had one once – at my insistence. It was a terrible idea, I don’t know why I suggested it. I never will again. This is what happened:

Back in the olden days when the staff trio consisted of the ever-so-slightly volatile Colleague McDrama; the ever-so-slightly capricious TBE (aka The Boss Erratic) and lil’ old me, we developed something of a communication problem (I say ‘we’; it wasn’t me – don’t be thinking it was me. There’s no ‘me’ in ‘we’; I was still naively enthusiastic back then).

I love my job! I love my job! Picture, Maikausminga, Pixabay

Colleague McDrama would frequently complain to me about TBE. She’d complain that she felt isolated and forgotten by TBE. That she never saw TBE. That communication was only through the message book, which was rubbish because it meant TBE either brushed aside any issues McDrama raised, or completely ignored them. (Sound familiar? It’s like I was staring right at my future and I didn’t even see it).

The more McDrama pushed (via the message book), the more nasty and defensive TBE became (via the message book). Colleague McDrama was very unhappy (and a wee bit, ‘back away slowly,’ ‘hide all the knives,’ teeth spittingly angry). I urged Colleague McDrama to talk to TBE: to request a formal, face to face meeting with TBE and deal directly with the issues once and for all.

At the same time, TBE would frequently complain to me about Colleague McDrama. TBE would complain that Colleague McDrama was always moaning: moaning about feeling isolated and forgotten; moaning about never seeing TBE; moaning about only communicating through the message book. The more TBE ignored her (in the message book), the more insistent and angry McDrama became (in the message book).

TBE was very unhappy with Colleague McDrama, so I urged TBE to talk to her: to set up a formal, face to face meeting with McDrama and sort this stuff out directly, and once and for all.

Arghhh!!!. Original picture: Pixabay

To hear is human, to unhear is impossible (sadly)

Consider the MAMAAs; my Middle Aged Men Always Around: those friendly but ever-so-slightly creepy men who, despite my best, ‘sod the fuck off,’ body language, persist in hanging out at the Out Of Favour (OOF) shop for much longer than is really unweird to do so (given it’s basically a women’s clothes shop).

Picture: Pixabay

I use the term, ‘middle-aged’ loosely, because in reality they range in immature years from a thirty something Ukrainian ex-prisoner with intensity issues and small-man syndrome (he’s a hoot), to an eighty-something wannabe-Jack-the-lad who cruises around in his 1950s classic car to, “impress the ladies.”

There ain’t no pleasing you

I like a challenge, I do. But a challenge has got to be within reason, right? Otherwise it’s just like trying to cross the Sahara on chocolate skis – or trying to stop TBE (aka The Boss Erratic) being a shit manager: it’s pointless, exhausting and doomed to failure.

Photo: Lenny Flank, Flikr

Sometimes it’s just too hard. Sometimes the challenge is too great. Sometimes that customer who’s just walked in (oh lucky me), is just too much of a mountain to climb. This is a (mostly) word for word conversation I had with one such creature the other day:

Some people are born with it; the rest of us are just jealous

Consider the fashionistas. Those effortlessly sartorially gifted people who waft about in unique, glamorously styled outfits, leaving a trail of awe, wonder and dropped jaws in their wake.

Well, here at the Out Of Favour (OOF) shop we are lucky to have two such marvellous creatures in our midst.

Separately, they are a truly eye-watering sight to behold; together, they are practically traffic-stopping. Literally. I have literally seen traffic screech to a halt to let these two sashay across the road (truth be told it was either that or run them over: fashion diva school clearly doesn’t cover the Green Cross Code).

Theirs is a sea of colour; a truly eye-catching conglomeration of fabric styles, patterns, textures and layers.

Such is their impact upon our little market town, they rarely venture out unaccompanied by their ‘minder’.

Tea and sympathy. Without the tea. Or the sympathy

The January blues. Everybody gets them. Why wouldn’t you?: It’s grey and dull and cold and depressing outside, everybody is skint and inexplicably still post-Christmas knackered, and everyone is contemplating a Brave New World of chocolate free, joy free meals consisting entirely of lettuce spaghetti and tomato fillets (or maybe that’s just me).

So I do understand it’s a tough time of year, I really do. I sympathise with anyone feeling down, but, well...how can I say this whilst sounding as warm-hearted and generous as I can… For Christ’s sake keep it out of the shop, it’s boring listening to you droning on, and, quite frankly, it’s bringing me down.

Picture: Images, Pixabay

Oh Lord, it’s Christmas in the Out Of Favour Shop. Bah Humbug (obviously).

Oh I can’t be doing with all this Christmas giddiness. Get a grip everyone.

Firstly, all the kids are going nuts over the annual bowl of free Christmas chocolates in the Out Of Favour (OOF) shop. Calm down kids, they’re the same chocolates from last year. Literally the same chocolates (probably). They’re cheap, nasty and taste like shite. I know this because I’ve eaten most of them out of sheer boredom. Now I feel sick.

Take note kids, too much chocolate turns you into an evil psychopath. Photo: Mojpe, Pixabay

TBE, Water and Glass: a Pathetic Potted History

So this week it’s all about pot plants. And glass vases. And TBE (aka The Boss Erratic). Of course.

Ah, the pot plants…..

Only TBE could make pot plants controversial (plants in pots, not the other type. Christ, if she had any of that she’d be hands-down The Most Annoying Stoner Ever. I’ve already seen her drunk, and it is not a pretty sight).

Say what now?

Call me old fashioned, but I am of the mind that a conversation should really make sense to both parties taking part. Isn’t it just plain rudeness for one party to carry on regardless of the obvious slack-jawed confusion playing about the face of their fellow conversationalist?

Here’s a tip: if the person standing in front of you looks massively puzzled and clearly has no idea what you're banging on about, stop bloody talking gibberish. 

Try to actually make sense. 

I know it takes some effort, but for the love of god, take a good look at yourself and reign it in. Don’t witter lazily away, zig-zagging this way and that like some self-absorbed linguistic equivalent of a downhill skier on a freshly snowed-on black run. 

Give us all a break, no one should have to work so hard. 

The topiary trees and the customers: a cautionary tale

Why is everything TBE (aka The Boss Erratic) does the retail equivalent of wearing a fur coat and no knickers? It looks good on the surface, (if you like that sort of thing), but underneath it’s all total disorganised carnage.

(OK, probably best to pop a quick note in here: I have no idea what your nether regions look like, and I’m certainly not saying that everyone’s knickerless loveliness is disorganised carnage. I mean, it might be, but that’s your business, not mine. No, this is simply a metaphor for how generally shit TBE is about the stuff behind the gorgeous image. But you get that, don’t you?).

Definitely best kept covered........Photo: Shop Girl Tales.

So, the latest idea is two 5ft high, puffball shaped topiary trees, one either side of the doorway to the Out Of Favour (OOF) shop.

I can’t deny they look gorgeous. I can’t deny they make the tatty outside of the shop look attractive. And I can’t deny the customers really like them.

Unfortunately, so do the wasps.

Clueless conversations and mysterious MAMAAs

Skills are great, aren’t they? Who doesn’t love a skill? And who can think badly of a workplace that develops and nurtures skills?

Working in the Out Of Favour Shop, for example, has allowed me to develop the, frankly, amazing skill of successfully holding a lengthy conversation with someone without having the first clue what we’re talking about.

"Hi there, I'm fascinating." Original image: Prawny, Pixabay

Today I did a good thing.......

Really; a genuinely good thing. 

Original photo: Myriams-Fotos, Pixabay

A right royal headache

Original picture: Clker-free-Vector-Images, Pixabay

I think TBE (aka The Boss Erratic) has secretly joined the CIA.

She’s joined the CIA and she’s using their unbearably effective tactics on me until I collapse into a broken heap in a dark corner of the Out Of Favour (OOF) shop and promise to tell her whatever she wants to hear……

“Yes (TBE), you are SUCH a brilliant manager! Yes, everyone loves your oh-so-quirky-and-not-annoying-at-all-ways! Yes, it’s such an honour to work for someone as great as you that I would be happy to work for almost nothing!”

Why else would she be torturing me? All day, every day. Constantly. With no respite.

I can’t stand it.

It’s driving me insane. I just can’t take it any longer.

She is torturing me – with whales.

Music music everywhere, and you’ve had too much to drink

Oh dear, the Upstairs Office Geeks aren’t very happy. 

They keep complaining about our music. Apparently it’s too loud, too bass-y……… just too music-y.

Is it wrong of me to find this wickedly funny and deliciously amusing? After all, they knew perfectly well the office was above a shop when they moved in.

But it seems the Upstairs Office Geeks don’t quite live in the same world the rest of us do. They’re sort of halfway there; they look normal (mostly), and they speak normally (well, some of them), but they don’t quite achieve full-on, “Yeah, we get life. We’re good at life.” It’s a bit like a Venn diagram.

A Venn diagram

Is time going really slowly, or have you been here forever?

Oh dear God, it’s enough to make anyone lose the will to live: Mr Schadenfreude Socialist has been talking at me for over three hours now.

Three hours!

My brain is numb with boredom. Please somebody make him stop. Sweet Jesus make him stop.

Original photo: cristels, Pixabay

I don’t understand the question. Or the answer

Right, so you know how something small and insignificant can suddenly and unexpectedly turn into something much bigger and messier than you ever thought it would? 

So, an insignificant spot on your face can turn into Mount Vesuvius just before a massive night out, or a single loose thread can turn into a huge hole in your jumper right when you’re in smart company, or a tiny bit of rust on your car can result in you reluctantly having to shell out two months wages for an entirely new wing? Well, the retail version of this is conversations that start off being normal and insignificant but somehow end up in the Twilight Zone. And it happens a lot.

This was a conversation I had the other day with a lady of average size (UK 14ish) who was looking at a loose fitting top………..

Boss Wars part V: The Battle of the Stool

So we’ve been playing silly buggers with stools, TBE (aka The Boss Erratic) and I. Or you could say I’ve been glimpsing more of TBE’s cockeyed psyche. Via seating.

You see, when the Out of Favour (OOF) shop reopened there was nowhere to sit; TBE had taken the staff seat away.

‘So what?’, you might say, ‘You should be working instead of sitting on your arse’, which is fine (harsh, but fine), except I’m alone for the whole day with no break. Having no seat means standing up for eight hours straight. My feet don’t need that, they’re ugly enough.

Photo: PaintedFeet01, Pixabay

Is that blue fluff in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?

*(Middle Aged Men Always Around)

MAMAA* Hep Cat Pensioner came in today and asked me if I wanted to see his ‘little friend’.

As you can imagine, this alarmed me somewhat.

Photo: geralt, Pixabay

Oh Annie, what would Daddy Warbucks say?

Picture: Prawny, Pixabay

What do I do about Annie?

Do I say I find her principles fundamentally wrong?

Do I tell her I find the free and unguarded tone of her chatter offensive, because it assumes endorsement, even corroboration on my part? Do I tell her she’s full of crap and should be ashamed of herself?

What I really want to do is stuff her mouth full of badger poo, slap her about the face with an angry woodcock, 

(It’s a bird. What did you think it was?),

and make her watch Bambi, Watership Down and Lassie Come Home all in one go (FYI, if anyone was looking to break me, that would just about do it).

My previous four conversations with Annie have begun like this:

Hello Treasure! Give me a smile

Three very uncomfortable looking people came into the OOF (Out of Favour) shop the other day, all middle aged, all smiling maniacally. The two men slunk awkwardly into the far corner, whilst Lady Leader advanced forward and stood silently in front of me. Smiling.

Alarm bells started beeping loudly in my brain.

Smiley smiley! Picture: Gratisography