William Golding nailed it when he wrote “Lord of the Flies”. His story of a group of boys trapped on an isolated island is eerily similar to every office I’ve worked in. Putting a group of universally different people together (in any situation) is a sociological experiment (think: television’s game of “Survivor”). In my experience, there's a certain level of predictability in every office. The common thread? People. Not unlike “Lord of the Flies”, every office has a: leader, bully, people-pleaser, slacker, workaholic, clown, whiner, etc. (you get the picture). But the trick is getting along with everybody. It’s not as easy as it sounds.
For example, if I walk into a room of, say, 25 people and think everybody is going to like me, I’m either incredibly vain or very naïve (but I hope I’m neither). So I apply the same principle to work. It’s impossible to believe that everybody in an office is going to like each other. But, we are professionals (for the most part), and we are paid to get along (“paid” being the operative word). But just because we’re paid to get along, doesn’t mean things don’t occasionally go off the rails. We spend so much time with our co-workers, it’s bound to happen (what “family” is perfect?).
Years ago, I accidentally discovered my boss was having an affair. I was good friends with his wife, which created a huge moral dilemma for my boss. Could he fire me because of his infidelities? How would that look to a tribunal? He knew he had to protect himself, so the office “leader” became the “bully” and my head was about to be put on a stake. Unfortunately, the names have been changed in my story to protect the guilty.
***
BOOK EXCERPT
“Don’t you get it?” Clarance yelled as he lunged at me from behind his large oak desk,
slamming his fists down in the process for added drama, before continuing to berate
me. “Nobody here likes you!!” I sat across from him, stock still, trying my hardest not to
slide off the oversized slippery red leather barristers chair. I tried to discreetly turn my head
to gauge Myrtle’s reaction, but it was clear from her expression which camp she was in.
Once again, it wasn’t mine. I couldn’t bear to think of how many times I covered for her
while she slept at her desk.
Clarance Trichopoulos wasn’t a particularly large man, but as he stood looming over me from behind his desk, I suddenly felt small and pathetic. He had that effect on people. He was, after all, a lawyer. It’s a great tactic in the courtroom and it was just as effective in the office. He reminded me of one of those small birds that puffed themselves up during mating season to give off the appearance of being larger than they really are. Funny that, considering Clarance confided in me once that he was fat in high school.
My mind raced frantically as I tried to think of a quasi-intelligent response. I hated awkward moments like these, especially when there was a longer than necessary pause of silence. I wracked my brain trying to think of what to say, but how could I respond to nobody here likes you? Clarance was a self-confessed confrontational guy who loved a good argument, but this time he went too far. Without hesitating, I said the first thing that popped into my head.
“Coming from you, that’s a compliment!” I finally responded, letting out a small chuckle in the faint hope that, on this particular occasion, my sense of humour might finally be appreciated. Maybe, if the mood lightened, Clarance would realize how unreasonable he was being. It wasn’t even eight in the morning yet, and I was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
END OF BOOK EXCERPT
***
In a move of pure genius, Clarance had somehow managed to turn his inability to be faithful (to his wife) into an issue about my popularity (or lack thereof) in the office. It’s worth noting that, after I was fired, Clarance told the rest of the office staff that I had simply “abandoned my job”; he claimed to have no knowledge of why I “got up and left”. But, in the end, there were no winners in this game of “Survivor”; I lost my job and Clarance is now divorced.
Editor’s Note: This blog was originally posted May 4, 2013.
