Work Quirk

Hello again.

I feared I would let the blog fizzle...and I did. I am still a receptionist but working in a new place and a new industry. I've passed the six month mark and feel more settled there so what better time to resume blogging?

I had hoped a change of scenery and some new faces would allow me to be less angry. I am now more likely to be miffed or mildly perturbed than angry. Certainly better for my blood pressure.

In my new role there is one particular task that I find rather irksome. In a quaint throwback to office cultures of old, I am routinely asked to make tea and coffee for the Big Boss Men when they are meetings clients. Why does this feel a little sexist when they ask me to do this? Best to try to keep my indignation under control as sometimes there is precious else to fill my time.

Entertainingly there is one particular BBM who is a fan of stronger beverages. He goes out for long lunches nearly every day and comes back reeking of booze. His first request upon returning to the office is a strong pot of coffee when he has a client to meet. I hurry a bit more with his requests when he's been enjoying his liquid lunch...still good at prioritising!

Absurd Exercise

Today I had my appraisal. My manager was made redundant at the beginning of June so the next layer in the managerial layer cake stepped in to evaluate me and my skills and my professional development.

For the purposes of this communication I will refer to my current supervisory type as CM. My nickname for her is probably a bit too rude and politically incorrect to list in full. (Go ahead and make up your own version, it could be fun!)

CM doesn't believe in giving overly high marks in appraisals. She says that they indicate there's 'no room for improvement'. We were able to agree that there's no point in setting me any objectives for the coming year as it's quite likely I won't have a lot of spare time to take on additional tasks.

Its all on record...how ridiculous.

No Shit Sherlock

Today - as a I booked a flurry of couriers and gave directions to people who should have known where they were going anyway, I was asked what seemed to me the most ridiculous question I'd heard in a while. One of the medium cheeses leaned over the desk and with his smarmy smile enquired:

'So where's Imelda these days? Is she on an extended holiday?'

I was, as they say, gobsmacked. I informed him that Imelda's redundancy was made official about three months ago.

Then it was his turn to be gobsmacked. 'What do you mean...? She was with the company for years!'

'I know. Ten years, actually.' I shrugged and gave him my forced smile that tends to make top bods uncomfortable so they move along to bother someone else.

He has the grace to shake his head in amazement. 'I think it was more than ten years, I could have sworn she was with the company for longer than that.'

How strange that it takes that long for some people to notice things.

Things that apparently need explaining

When visiting an office in central London you will be asked to sign in or you will not be allowed to enter the premises. This is the case at my office. Staff sign in one book with their name, time in and who they are visiting. Visitors who are not members of staff sign a slip of paper that is then torn out of a book and worn in a little plastic sleeve that they can attach to themselves with a springy clip.

At least once a day a group of people will come in - usually about three or four people - and the first person will ask 'Do we each need to do one of these?' and then sigh when I nod or say 'Yes please !' in an overly cheery voice that makes most people grimace for a split second.

I don't think it's a difficult concept the idea of one badge per person...is it?

The Grey Man

'Have you had any visitors for me?'

A white man with medium build about 5 foot 7 with grey hair in a grey suit with a white shirt is standing on the other side of the desk. He is probably in his late forties or early fifties. About 80 percent of the company's employees match this description. He is not specifically familiar. The odour of Marlborough Reds and sour laundry wafts across the desk and straight up my nose. I'll remember him now.

'I'm sorry sir, but what's your name?'

He clears his throat in irritation and rifles in his pockets for a business card. He passes it across the desk with a flourish.

'I'm Terry Huffington. I have a meeting room booked here today!'

He starts to scuffle and jerk gently at the other side of the desk - like a chicken scratching for a worm.

I scan the calendars looking for his name and when it doesn't appear I start reading out the names that do appear:

'Room 1 - Vaguely Inappropriate One-to-one - that started at 9 am and is booked through to lunchtime...don't think that's it?

Room 2 - Unfeasibly Overbudget Project Catchup from eleven until one...

Room 3 - Appraisals - all day

Room 4 - Sally Crispmuncher - 10 people - half nine until two...'

He blinks his watery pink eyes. 'That's it. Sally's my PA.'

'My apologies for not spotting it, perhaps Sally could make the booking in your name to avoid confusion next time?'

He ignores me 'Where's room 4?'

'On the first floor.'

'And how do I get there? Honestly, I don't have time for this!'

I smile serenely and walk him to the lift to scan him up.

'Which floor is it again?' He wipes his face with a grubby handkerchief and stares at the lift doors with determination.

As the door opens I press the button for the first floor and walk back to the desk.

Arse!

Oh dear, Oh DEAR

We have a temp until further notice. But Imelda is redundant right? So he's taking care of all the new duties that have appeared in the interim...I guess.

A few things about our temp:

A) He told me on his first day that he is a Pagan.
B) On his second day he obviously felt comfortable enough to start wearing his silver ring that has a wolf's head on it and glittery rhinestone eyes.
C) Yesterday he told me he's excited that Weird Al Yankovic has announced a gig in London. He's a little concerned the venue won't be big enough for all the fans of Weird Al. I did not share his concern.

I shouldn't complain I guess, he brings me cups of tea and I don't even have to bully him into it.

Contrary to the saying, there are lots of stupid questions

'You booked a meeting room for me last week. Can you tell me which one it is?'

'I thought I sent you a meeting invitation when I booked it...'

'Yes, but I didn't look at it. So which room is it please?'

Is it any wonder that I'm an angry? Visiting staff members from other offices are a persistent thorn in my delicate side. Massive egos and convenient helplessness are standard.

Need a CD? Walk past the stationery cupboard and ask at reception!

Having trouble connecting to the network? Why not call reception and ask them to send someone to help you!

Didn't print your documents for your presentation because you didn't want to carry them on the train? Just sidle up to the reception desk and open with something like:

'Do you think you might be able to do me a small favour?'

You will be met with a suspicious look. When you produce a USB stick with your presentation on it don't expect the receptionist to do cartwheels at the prospect of doing your printing and collating for you. If you suggest that you could also find a way to email the documents to me this will not turn my frown upside down.

Remind me to send your PA a big thank you for dumping her work onto me while takes she takes a half day while you terrorize my office!

Oh my gawd, will you just sign out and go home already?