Picture from Wikinut
The first job I ever had, like most people my age, was a paper round and I remembered a time-saving tip years later when I became a postman; climbing over fences and walking over lawns rather than walking up and down paths shaves minutes off your round. When I was at college I took several weekend and holiday jobs in food preparation factories around Lincolnshire and I was horrified that what for me was a stop gap was a way of life for some people. I don't mean to offend people who work in those places full time but I knew that it wasn't my bag, although I did end up back at Lincolnshire after having a breakdown which was either caused by living in London or living in London with a maniac girlfriend who could have started an argument in an empty room with no doors. The best cure for a breakdown for someone with depression is not moving back to the countryside (I hate the countryside) and working in an industry that confuses creativity with deviancy. Anyway, these full time workers had left school at fifteen and gone straight through the factory door and so treated the opportunity for a skive as a little victory over the big boss. One lunchtime as we were sitting around the table I got up out of my seat and was immediately asked where I was going, to which I replied that I was going to the toilet. The reaction was as if I had announced that I was going to shoot one of them in the head, I learned that day (at the age of 16) that going to the toilet on your lunch is one of the worst crimes you can commit. "Never shit unless you're being fucking paid for it" was the wisdom indelibly planted on my brain from that day, and I didn't know what was sadder, the fact that a visit to the toilet somehow counted as a break or the fact that they had probably worked out all the minutes that they had grabbed back from the man.
Over the course of my working life I have mastered the art of looking busy when required and I have encountered those who seemed to be taught by the same teachers I had. Any errand that involves leaving the office means a cigarette break and a diversion to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, and the most valuable thing you can remember is to always be carrying something official looking if you are wandering about as people will assume you are in the middle of something.
Today, while on my lunch hour from the day job I committed the ultimate workplace crime, simply because I couldn't wait until it was time to go back to work. At the same point that I should have been outside smoking or in one of the comfy chairs reading the papers, I went for a poo. I hope those old men at the factory never find out that I have forgotten their lessons.
The Sunday Alternative #48 is available from here.
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July Housekeeping
Bags and T-Shirts are still available from here. All money goes in the fund. Feel free to browse the shop page while you're there.
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steveEoliver@gmail.com
