It's often the smallest things that can be the catalyst that sparks change, a missed connection, a chance encounter or in my case a troll like figure in our despatch department doing her utmost to throw grit in the cogs of my life.
"Vera, I need that commercial invoice processing so we can ship the order to Melbourne, it needs to go by ship because it's huge and it needs to be there in six weeks, if we don't get it out of the door tomorrow we miss the container ship in Felixstowe, it sails at ten past midnight Wednesday morning. If we miss the container ship, we miss our delivery date. If we miss our delivery date we lose the contract. We lose the contract it's," I checked my paperwork, "Six hundred and eighty-five thousand, four hundred and fifty Australian Dollars we won't be getting next year."
Vera looked blearily at her screen, there was at least a full page of unread emails ahead of my request, she blinked at the black and white image then blinked at me. I idly wondered whether she was seeing lines across my face after staring at the screen so intently.
"I can only work in the order I receive emails; each one needs to be dealt with in turn. I don't do it to be difficult or cause problems, it's just when John Benton told me I was responsible for the documentation I took it seriously. Some of us didn't get where we are on our pretty face and pert boobs you know."
I gritted my teeth, straining down on my already aching jaw, distorting my pretty face, and breathed in deeply, making my pert boobs heave under my blouse.
"With respect Vera, today is Monday, I've been asking you for this information for over a week. I think you are doing it to be difficult. I think you are doing it because you only have eighteen months to retirement, and you can't stand to think your job will be done so much better when you're gone that you make things more difficult for everyone, so you look busy and important. Now release my damn shipment."
Well, that helped. Not. She rolled out of her seat and waddled over to the Operations Director's office, going straight in without knocking.
"Mister Benton, I cannot be expected to blah blah blah blah blah"
While she was gone I sat down in her sweaty, saggy chair, rearranged the multiple cushions and opened the shipping software. I typed in the job number and clicked the auto-generator for commercial invoices, despatch notes and manifest sheets. A second click of her greasy mouse and I had barcoded address labels rolling out of the printer.
I figured I had about two more minutes before the Ops director called Malcolm Speight, the Sales Director and I was summoned for a quiet chat without coffee. I decided to use those two minutes to run down to the goods-out dock with my paperwork and ensure we hit our shipping date.
I was wrong, it took at least five minutes for the shit storm to filter down to my level, Malcolm Speight called me in for a heads up.
"Alice, you need to bite your tongue. Vera's been here a long time and knows her job backwards. I agree she can be a little abrasive on occasion but she's very useful to the business. Can you see John Benton, he needs to clarify things with you."
On my own, oh great. Nice back up boss. Ah well, I kept the customer happy, that's the important thing, right?
Wrong. I knocked on John's door, I knew it was not going to go well when he stood and asked me to follow him to Debbie Blanco's office. She's the HR manager and she already had my file on her desk when we walked in.
"Alice, a serious complaint has been levelled at you, it is alleged that you were abusive and aggressive to a disabled and vulnerable colleague and that you undermined her position within the department, also that you have accessed software on someone else's password which, as you know, is in breach of the company's IT policy. Is there anything you'd like to say?"
I started to speak; I had a lot to say. Starting with the passive aggressive refusal to offer any assistance, the rigid sticking to policies of her own making and the risk to the company of losing one of our biggest clients. I didn't mention that her disability being morbid obesity was of her own making because she spends all day force feeding herself on cakes and cookies. I detailed her mentioning of my looks and boobs, not only because I wanted it logged in the minutes that I had pert boobs.
Alright, it was entirely so I could get it recorded. I was trying hard to include 'Firm 32C boobs, shoulder length auburn hair, deep brown eyes, awesomely tight and round bum, long legs and flat muscly stomach' in there as well but Debbie just wrote down 'Alleged personal comments were made, no witness.'
My points were all ignored or disregarded. The absolute cherry on the cake being the Operations Director telling me that as the Account Manager I should have ensured my order was completed in enough time to meet the deadline. When I suggested that it was so tight because his department had dropped the ball three times during manufacturing I came close to punching the smarmy jerk when he waved a hand and stated for the record that it was 'my responsibility to ensure the smooth transition of the order through the factory,' reading it direct from my job description.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is why I have a permanent headache and aching jaw. Toxic management will do that to a girl. I was given a formal written warning for misuse of a colleague's password and 'words of advice' over my attitude to said colleague. I was instructed, in writing, to only use approved means of requesting support and information from the despatch administration team, I clarified that this meant email or written requests and got that in writing as well.
When I got back to my desk Malcolm Speight was nowhere to be seen, I was livid at the way I'd been railroaded and the lack of support from my line manager so the email from my boyfriend that popped in was particularly welcome.
• Hey Ali, I've been offered two tickets to Nodfest this weekend. Jake and Suze can't make it.
We need to be there any time after 11.30 on Friday morning, home again prob Monday morning. Shall I get them?
The way I felt at that moment if he'd said he had a ticket to abseil naked into the middle of St Paul's Cathedral I'd have accepted if it took my mind off work. Nodfest however was a complete no-brainer. It's a music / performance arts festival held in the depths of the Somerset countryside, only over eighteens allowed to keep the alcohol licensing straightforward.
There's a mix of headline bands you'll have heard of and ones you won't on the main stage with a load of other side events going on, all backed up with booze, dancing, street food, more booze, comedy, drama, more booze and did I mention booze?
I bashed out a swift reply.
• Great plan Matt, I'll book Friday and Monday off.
I wrote out my leave request and took it through to Malcolm to sign off, he acted like nothing had happened and even tried to make small talk about festivals and the time he went to Glastonbury. I somehow kept calm, even when he remembered we had customers coming in on Friday and I would be needed there until eleven to host their tour of the factory. We compromised on a half day's leave, but I'd go as soon as the customers did.
Things settled down a bit at work for the next day or so, Vera and I danced warily round each other. More accurately she went out of her way to be even more difficult, and I only dealt with her by email, copying Malcolm Speight, my boss and John Benton, her boss, on every communication. I knew it wouldn't do any good because she wouldn't look at the messages until it was too late but at least the process had been adhered to and management didn't get hassled.
Friday morning arrived, I packed a rucksack with clothes for the festival and left it by the front door for Matt to take with him. I reminded him again to remember it, I didn't fancy spending the weekend in either my smart office clothes or my bike leathers. I was taking the bike to work because it would be quicker to get to the festival and easier to park when I arrived. Also, I enjoyed riding it.
He promised he'd take them and insisted he'd have been happy to pack for me. I kissed him again and laughed in his face. "Yeah right. I can see it now. 'Oh, sorry Alice, didn't you want to spend the weekend with no underwear, a miniskirt and a crop top? Sorry.' I can see through your cunning plan Baldrick. "
He protested his innocence, to be fair there was a ring of truth when he said he hadn't thought about that as an idea, but I sneaked a set of leggings and a long-sleeved T-shirt into the storage space under my bike's seat just in case, that being about all that will fit.
Carl and Mike, the customers, were from the UK end of a US firm we dealt with on a worldwide basis, they were one of the biggest clients the company had, but despite that they were genuinely nice guys and didn't play off their standing. Their close-cropped hair and smart grey suits should have given me a clue, but their enthusiasm when I told them I was going to a music festival that afternoon probably put me off the scent. It wasn't until I offered coffee and they both declined in favour of water that I added up the short hair, grey suits, homes in Salt Lake City and drinking water.
The rest of the trip round was an interesting discussion about abstention in a world of temptation, as Mike said, "we're Mormon, not Amish. We can go out and have fun, we just don't put artificial stimulants into our system." I told them I hoped I hadn't dropped any clangers, then had to explain what that meant, enjoying the moment of realisation that they were going to use that phrase at every opportunity from there on. They both assured me no clangers had been dropped, and they were happy to discuss their religion and how it impacted on their work and life.
Feeling as if I'd had some illusions shattered, but in a good way, I delivered them to the board room where Speight and Benton were waiting with a driver to head out for a liquid lunch. My day was made complete when Carl wished me all the best at the festival and Mike gave a Wayne's World style hand sign and told me to 'Party on,' I left with a laugh and replied, "Like my life depended on it."
As I closed the double doors I heard Carl saying, "It looks like we may have dropped a clanger in not telling you we don't drink, so a pub is probably not the best place to go." Swallowing a laugh, I stripped off in the Ladies and dressed in my leathers, leaving my work clothes in a Tesco bag under my desk. I was rolling out of the car park on the Triumph ten minutes later and by twelve thirty I was parked up at Nodfest.
I called Matt who arrived five minutes later with my bike lock and a set of vehicle keys, I followed him through the parking field to the entrance where I got my wrist band and on to the campsite where he let me into a camper van. I climbed in and spotted my rucksack on a bench seat by the table. Opening it up I found someone had a dangerous sense of humour. All that was in there was a black stretch lace body suit and a pair of ultra-short cut-off jeans. A pair of three-inch heeled slingbacks were under the table.
"Oh, very fucking funny. Matt you pillock, where are my clothes?"
He was doing an impression of the Roman Legionnaires in 'Life of Brian' trying to keep a straight face, "Wh, what clothes babe? I don't know what you're talking about"
I turned and walked up to him, reaching out and grabbing his crotch.
"Where are my clothes Matt, come on, do you want Little Matt to see any action for the next month? Where are my clothes Matt, where are my clothes?"
I had my lips on his by now and was asking him through shared laughs, I knew he had them stashed somewhere and I also knew I might have to 'interrogate' him to find out where they were.
I used both hands to undo his shorts, letting them fall to the floor with a thump. He stepped out and I stuck both hands into his trunks where I found a nicely growing old friend. I wrapped one hand around the shaft and reached down to cup his balls with the other,
"Where are my clothes Matt?"
