Just let it be over.
It was our first day back at work today after a ten-day break. This did not sit well with me. The alarm went off this morning and I was all scowly and sleepy and dammit, I was born to more than this! Where is my easy life? Where are my scented baths, my slender thighs, my champagne fountains? Work sucks, and the suckiness is strangely not eased any by the shimmering vision of my last day next Friday.
To put it plainly, I am scared of my last day next Friday.
In the four years I have been with this company, I have come to the conclusion that it's possibly the drinkiest place of work I am ever likely to encounter. Seriously. There have been business trips, team dinners, christmas parties, random nights out. People have danced, had fights, fallen off bridges, lost their handbags, sung karaoke, broken into hotels and crashed through colleague's ornamental gardens. Someone once threw up in a colleague's spare bed. There have been romances, recriminations and entire conferences where the pallor of the attendees' skin was matched only by the lack of interest in the lunchtime buffet. I may or may not have participated in any or all of the above. This is the part that worries me slightly.
It's traditional, on a last day, to plaster the office from reception to the boardroom with photos of the hapless resignee in all manner of embarrassing and/or compromising positions. There is a farewell speech given by a manager, which is more about letting everyone in the whole office in on the time you got drunk on a work trip and joined your colleagues in a rendition of Tiffany's "I Think We're Alone Now" on the karaoke than describing what an asset you were to the company. Or recounting the time you spent a satisfying twenty minutes pulling handbrake turns in a gravel car park at a conference hotel, only to report to reception and find that everyone was watching on the CCTV monitors. Or the time you pulled a colleague on yet another work trip, had an affair, ruined his marriage and...oh, hang on. We've covered that one, haven't we?
Still. You get the idea.
Of course, I've threatened all my friends with extreme sanctions should they contribute in any way to any humiliation heaped upon me next Friday. They have, naturally, laughed scornfully and continued rifling through a file marked "Embarrassing Photos".
Bastards.
To put it plainly, I am scared of my last day next Friday.
In the four years I have been with this company, I have come to the conclusion that it's possibly the drinkiest place of work I am ever likely to encounter. Seriously. There have been business trips, team dinners, christmas parties, random nights out. People have danced, had fights, fallen off bridges, lost their handbags, sung karaoke, broken into hotels and crashed through colleague's ornamental gardens. Someone once threw up in a colleague's spare bed. There have been romances, recriminations and entire conferences where the pallor of the attendees' skin was matched only by the lack of interest in the lunchtime buffet. I may or may not have participated in any or all of the above. This is the part that worries me slightly.
It's traditional, on a last day, to plaster the office from reception to the boardroom with photos of the hapless resignee in all manner of embarrassing and/or compromising positions. There is a farewell speech given by a manager, which is more about letting everyone in the whole office in on the time you got drunk on a work trip and joined your colleagues in a rendition of Tiffany's "I Think We're Alone Now" on the karaoke than describing what an asset you were to the company. Or recounting the time you spent a satisfying twenty minutes pulling handbrake turns in a gravel car park at a conference hotel, only to report to reception and find that everyone was watching on the CCTV monitors. Or the time you pulled a colleague on yet another work trip, had an affair, ruined his marriage and...oh, hang on. We've covered that one, haven't we?
Still. You get the idea.
Of course, I've threatened all my friends with extreme sanctions should they contribute in any way to any humiliation heaped upon me next Friday. They have, naturally, laughed scornfully and continued rifling through a file marked "Embarrassing Photos".
Bastards.
posted by surly girl at 6:46 pm
17 Comments:
Sounds like my kind of company!
Wonder if they can be persuaded to post the incriminating evidence on the net!
:)
here's hoping they don't attempt it...
you know who you are.
Just let me know where to send the "pirate photos" ...
if you find yourself thinking 'i wish i'd worn panties more often' at any time between now and then, my suggestion is don't show up on friday. murphy's law.
Attempts have been made to extract photos from me by Lovely Assistant. I told her:
a) That she shouldn't even be trying that sort of thing if she knows what's good for her
b)I don't actually have any (all evidence has been destroyed)
c)To try GBF instead...
I wouldnt worry about it , just adopt the 'its a fair cop' attitude , it will soon be over.
This place is just as bad, thats what makes it fun
The obvious question is...it sounds like a GREAT place to work! Why are you leaving it?!!
I plan to use the same incriminating evidence when my daughters start bringing boys home. "Look here's a lovely pic of her on the toilet...and here's one from when she was little"
Yeah - it doesn't sound too bad at all.
At my old place, we went out TWICE in the whole two years I worked there (including our self-funded Xmas Do). Grim.
The next place I worked, we went to the pub twice in my first week. And I was only temping.
That's more like it.
(So, what are you going to do now???)
Fortunately SG and I have very active social life so I hope the company do's won't be missed too much.
That said, I still work there so it's unlikely she'll miss out.
I work on my own all day so I was wondering - should I take myself out for a post-work beer or three and talk about myself while I'm in the loo? And take pictures?
Would that be fun at all?
Good luck with the last day. Be brazen.
You will probably end up blubbing because people who slagged you off will suddenly admit that you were a real asset to the company and will miss you.
So there.
kellycat - you were doing fine til you suggested gbf. i'm SO going to nobble him tomorrow. and stern words will be had with Lovely Assistant too. bah.
as for the workplace - well, the social aspect is fantastic, but i hate my actual job (so much so that all the free pissups and yearly travel don't compensate any more).
arabella - i could make up some stories about you, if you'd like?
and betty - thanks for the thought but i suspect that the real party (for the directors, at least) will begin the moment the doors swing shut behind me for the last time...(think whooping, confetti, champagne and slightly elderly men dancing joyfully).
Why do all places of work have these files of embarassment? I can never leave my place of work because of them.
Bugger!
I always left before the pictures could be developed! Explains why I've had more jobs than anybody I know!
Instant cameras were a bugger though and now digital! Aaaargh!
:)
Where are you moving on to?
At my last workplace our boss was a crumbly old bloke who was deeply religious and owned the company.
Over the 3 years I worked there we had 3 outings.. at Christmas.. where we politely pulled crackers and didn't dare have more than one glass of wine each.
I hope you vetted your new colleagues?
NOT THE ORNAMENTAL GARDENS!
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