On serfdom…

And here we are, once again.

At long last I have something to share, other than misery!

I have 5 and a bit days left of working at the current company. Have to say, they can’t go by fast enough. The more I listen, the more I realise that, as sorry as that makes me, it’s not a good place to work for.

Returning to the heading.

As with many company driven by sales they have a certain amount of sales people. Those sales people in turn work for key account managers and sales managers – the usual.

How I got to the serfdom thing : The world needs serfs. They need garbage collectors. Plumbers. Greasy fish & chip shop owners. What the world don’t really need more of, according to the wisdom of Ghia, would be key account managers and HR officials.

Alas. They are a part of our lives regardless.

So. We have this KAM here. Young chick. Very much in awe of her own supposed magnificence. Little blonde thing. Biggest snob and name dropper you have even come across in your entire life! Me, I don’t drop names, even if I have any to drop – bad enough I chuck my own name to the winds every so often, don’t have to do that to other people’s names. Said chick is also very competitive. Her counterpart, another blonde little thing, is so much better than the super cow. The second one has the body, the personality, the husband, the life, the second one can only dream about. So I listen to them. When the cute one has anything to say, the uncute one always has something better to say. Almost like that dog in Aristocats. I’m the leader and I’ll say when it’s the end, kind of thing…

So, yesterday, the uncute one has a travel request. I duly send the info to the people in question, get an answer. One flight was 15 minutes earlier and less expensive, so I asked Ms cow if she could possibly be at the airport 15 minutes earlier. “I can say now, I’ll have to let you know” “All I want to know is if you can be at the airport a little earlier” “DOn’t you get cheeky with me!!”

Ok. Fine.

How dare you, a lowly serf, address the Queen of Cow in such a callow manner? How dare you even deign to impugn her Sovereign Majesty’s better knowledge of everything under the sun? In what lifetime could you, the lowly receptionist, even think it would be acceptable for you to insist on an answer when Her Royal Highness does not feel like answering you?

I’m still kind of gasping for breath on that one. I mean really. Since when do you speak to anybody like that? In the workplace? No matter the fact that I’m in a lower position than you. No matter the fact that I could actually have cleaned your baby arse when you were a snotnosed, sniveling rugrat. No matter that I can still wipe your arse with one hand tied behind my back…

Chicklet, you have so much to learn my dear. Eventually, even the Queen of Cow will come to a fall. One of these days your seemingly perfect little life will chafe around the sides. You might become worse, but I doubt that you will ever become a better person.

I did not fight with the little thing. My superior wisdom, my superior experience, my superior age stopped me from what I would really have liked to do which was get up and give her a BRFS – Boksburg Running Fuck Slap, hitting her head against the table, in turn making her spit out her teeth, blood streaming from her broken nose, tears of utter despair and sheer terror running from her eyes…

Yes well. KAM – can’t live with them, can’t give them any BRFS’s either.

5.5 days and counting…