After a gruelling day at the office, the last thing I feel like doing is “team building” with my colleagues. Amongst my colleagues, I’m confident the feeling is mutual. But, in today’s workplace, extra-curricular activities, such as golf retreats, paintballing and booze cruises have become popular ways for management to boost morale and build a stronger “team”. Having participated in several of these “team building exercises” over the years, I typically do what everybody else does - go through the motions. But having the right attitude is paramount. I’m inherently aware that my actions not only set the tone at the office, but outside the office as well. So, if injecting humour helps to lighten the mood and make the “exercise” more palatable, then I say go for it! Although, it’s not always appreciated.
If done right, extra-curricular work activities can be extremely beneficial for both staff and management. However, if it is demanded of staff, rather than expected, it can get a little trickier. Even more so if staff are expected to actually pay for it themselves. I was shocked to learn that, on one occasion, this was indeed the case.
During my job interview with Clarance Trichopolous (who hired me only to later fire me for discovering he cheated on his wife), I was asked if I played golf. Personally, I despise the game (aka “Scotland’s revenge on the world”), but desperate for work, I lied and said “yes”. Clarance advised that one very important condition of accepting the job was that I agree to take private golf lessons. I needed a job and, evidently, Clarance needed a golfing buddy. So, we shook on it. But, the following week, I learned the hard way that that handshake would cost me.
***
BOOK EXCERPT
“What’s this for?” I asked, playing dumb.
“It’s the receipt for your private golf lessons,” Myrtle cheerily answered. “We talked about it last week at your interview. Remember?” Standing over me, she shook the receipt in my face, indicating that I should take it from her. Ignoring her, I just sat there staring blankly at it as though magically it might disappear. I sensed she was becoming impatient.
“It’s $246 for six private lessons,” Myrtle continued, exasperated. “You can make a cheque out to Lesniewski Trichopoulos or, if you’d prefer, cash will work too.” Having just taken a sip of coffee, I nearly did a spit-take across my desk. I had to catch my breath before finally swallowing, carefully setting down my coffee cup in the process. I couldn’t hide my astonishment. Not only was I expected to take private golf lessons, but I was also expected to shell out $246 of my own hard-earned money in the process? It felt like Clarance [my boss] had just punched me in the face. Myrtle hesitated slightly before setting the invoice down on my desk, pushing it towards me.
“I beg your pardon?” I blurted out, looking up at Myrtle in astonishment. “You can’t be serious?” I don’t know why I bothered to ask because I knew she was. I refused to pick up the invoice for fear that doing so meant I had accepted the terms of our so-called “golf agreement”. Leaning over my desk, I closer inspected the invoice. Sensing my lack of enthusiasm, Myrtle stared down at me indifferently, opting to ignore my question.
“You are serious?” I muttered under my breath. Of course she was serious, I reminded myself; she’s a lawyer. Taking a deep breath, I continued.
“So let me get this straight. I am expected to pay for these lessons myself? It was my assumption that the office paid for them?” I could feel myself becoming angry. I’d barely worked here for five minutes, yet already I was losing money. This just didn’t sit right with me. Annoyed by my questions, Myrtle held out her hand as though by some miracle I would place some form of payment into it.
“No,” she started. “The office isn’t paying for you to learn how to golf...you are.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Like I said, cash or cheque?”
END OF BOOK EXCERPT
***
Later that summer, at the office “Annual Golf Tournament”, I was asked to leave the golf course at the ninth hole (those private lessons really paid off - not!). Afterwards, Clarance awarded me with a brand new golf umbrella for being the “best sport”, which I later sold, unused, at a garage sale.
Editor’s Update: On September 27, 2016, I found myself falling into the “frolleague” trap…again. This time, I was lured by a group of co-workers into an “escape room” at SmartyPantz. Not to sound synical, but I spend over 8 hours a day trying to “escape” from work, why the hell would I deliberately lock myself in a room roughly the size of my cubicle, for nearly an hour, with my co-workers? It was definitely a fascinating sociological experiment (think: television’s “Survivor”) but not one I’d care to repeat (sorry, SmartyPantz - it’s nothing you did; I just felt “trapped").
