The Mediocre Samaritan

The Mediocre Samaritan

No good deed goes unpunished…

 

I wrote about an agency worker in “Reasons to be Unreasonable” and “The U Turn”. Yesterday he said that he was feeling rotten and didn’t know if he had the energy to carry on through the day.

 

He looked pale and droopy and had a nasty hacking cough.

 

At the afternoon tea break, the warehouse manager said that he had sent him home.

 

I thought about the agency worker feeling so ill and making the hour-long cycle ride home in the cold wind and rain. What if he collapsed? What if he had an accident?

 

I decided to talk to my boss about it.

 

Me: “You know that the agency worker was feeling really unwell?”

My boss: “Yes I know. That’s why he was sent home, because he is ill.”

Me: “Did you know it takes him about an hour to cycle home?”

My boss: “Yes, I suppose it would take about an hour especially on the bike he’s got. Have you seen the state of it?”

 

I decided that a more direct approach was needed.

 

Me: “Why don’t you be a Good Samaritan and put his bike in the back of the van and drive him home?”

My boss: “Well he’s gone now.”

Me: “Well he won’t have got far on a bike; you could catch up with him.”

My boss: “Yes. Yes, I’ll do that.”

My boss drove off in the van.

 

He returned to the office a few minutes later.

 

My boss: “Stubborn man!”

Me: “Didn’t he want a lift?”

My boss: “No. He swore at me!”

Me: “What? He swore at you? But you were trying to help him.”

My boss: “I know. He told me to sod off. Well worse than that actually.”

Me: “What happened exactly?”

My boss: “Well I caught up with him along the lane. I beeped the horn and he just ignored me. So I drove right up behind him and beeped the horn a few times. He turned his head round and… and swore at me.”

Me: “What happened next?”

My boss: “I came back to the office.”

Me: “Oh well. At least you tried.”

 

“If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do not harm them.” ~Dalai Lama~

Dress Code

Dress Code

A case of mistaken identity…

 

In “Our Big Concert” I said that the Lord Mayor had not made his anticipated appearance at our concert but that the Mayoress (with purple hair) and a female companion (with aquamarine hair) were in attendance.

 

I have since discovered that, far from being stood up by her husband, the purple haired “Mayoress” is in fact the Lord Mayor and her companion is her daughter and the Lady Mayoress.

 

I am sure that this is not the first time that there has been confusion over the Lord Mayor’s status. Expectations and ‘uniforms’ can often lead to a misreading of social standing.

 

One time at a restaurant, I was heading for a comfort break and a man smiled, waved at me and cocked his head back. Not wishing to appear unfriendly; I smiled and gave a mini-wave back to him.

 

On my return journey to the table, the man was rather more insistent, shouting “Excuse me!” and beckoning me to him before saying “Could we have the bill when you’re ready?”

 

I have since avoided wearing black trousers and a white blouse when out for dinner.

 

Another time, before the austerity measures took their hold, we used to go out for a works Christmas lunch. These days the Christmas treat consists of a box of deep-filled mince pies left by the tea urn. There is always a deficit of one mince pie to cater for the whole company – a kind of musical chairs only with mincemeat.

 

The last time we went out to a restaurant for our works Christmas lunch, my boss dispensed with his usual business jacket and instead wore a casual sweater for the occasion. Nothing wrong with that you might say, but due to it being stored on a wire hanger for the best part of the year, he took on the appearance of a burgundy coloured vampire bat, a tired one at that.

 

We were all seated and happily discussing the merits of condensing boilers when the waitress came to our table and addressed me.

 

Waitress: “Would you like to order the drinks for your team?”

Me: “Erm, well…”

My boss: “I’m the boss, I’ll order the drinks.”

Waitress: “Heh heh, very good. Would you like a few minutes?”

Me: “No, really. He is the boss.”

 

Once the respective social positions had been established we could all relax and enjoy the boss’s favourite magic trick/conundrum involving a wine glass and knives.

Appearances can certainly be deceptive. Beware of the wolf in sheep’s clothing and also the sheep in the wolf outfit.

 

 

The Importance of Being Important

The Importance of Being Important

Even in these times of austerity, status symbols are as important as ever…

 

Me: “You’re looking a bit low down at your desk.”

 

My boss: “I know. I think the gas thing on my chair is faulty. It sinks down every time I move.”

 

Me: “Can it be fixed?”

 

My boss: “I don’t know. It’s not very comfortable anyway. There’s a metal bar that I can feel with the back of my legs. It makes my feet go numb.”

 

Me: “It sounds like you need a new chair then.”

 

My boss: “I’m not getting a new one, they’re too expensive.”

 

Me: “Well why don’t you get one like mine?”

 

My boss: “No no no, I couldn’t possibly have one like yours; I need a high back leather director’s chair.”

 

Me: “Why?”

 

My boss: “Because I’m a director.”

 

Me: “Yes, I know you are, but it’s important to be comfortable. This chair is fine.”

 

My boss: “People would think it was strange if I had a cheap little chair like yours.”

 

Me: “I don’t think they’d even think about it.”

 

My boss: “Look. I’m a director. Directors have director’s chairs to show who they are; end of conversation.”

 

Me: “OK”

 

I made no further comment as he sank down a further two inches before getting up and hobbling out of the office.

A Little Light Conversation

A Little Light Conversation

Even when you speak the same language, it can be difficult to be understood and an interpreter is required…

 

Me: “I think something needs to be done about the lighting down the side of the building. Now it’s dark when we leave at night, it’s really hard to see when you’re going to your car.”

 

My boss: “What do you mean?”

 

Me: “I mean someone could trip in the dark round the side.”

 

My boss: “Dark round the side?”

 

Me: “Yes it’s very dark when we leave at night now.”

 

My boss: “Of course it’s dark. It’s called night time.”

 

Me: “Yes, I know that. But it’s dangerous down that side.”

 

My boss: “Well don’t go down the side then.”

 

Me: “That’s where the staff has to park isn’t it? We have to go there.”

 

My boss: “The staff has always parked down the side for the past ten years.”

 

Me: “Yes and the lighting is not sufficient to see where you’re going.”

 

My boss: “There’s lighting on the floodlights at the front.”

 

Me: “Yes, at the front but not down the side. Someone could hurt themselves.”

 

My boss: “Well they’ll just have to be careful then. At night it’s dark and you obviously have to be careful. Everyone knows that. Why are you going on about it?”

 

Me: “This is like mental torture. Someone could get hurt and it would be your fault for not providing sufficient lighting.”

 

My boss: “Rubbish! How can it be my fault that it goes dark at night?”

 

<In walks the manager with Health and Safety responsibilities.>

 

Me: “I was just trying to explain to the boss that it’s really dark round the side at night and there needs to be better lighting.”

 

Manager with H&S responsibilities: “Yes, I agree. I told you last year that it needed sorting out.”

 

My boss: “What?”

 

Manager with H&S responsibilities: “Yeah, I told you that I tripped going to the car and that you needed to sort some lighting out down that side.”

 

My boss: “Well let’s sort it out then. I’ll phone the electrician now. We can’t have people tripping over in the dark. It’s dangerous.”

 

“If you want that good feeling that comes from doing things for other folks then you have to pay for it in abuse and misunderstanding.” ~ Zora Neale Hurston ~

The Dark Horse

The Dark Horse

We have a rather unassuming gentle shy draughtsman that occasionally visits to discuss new projects…

My boss seems to find the draughtsman a bit of a dullard and makes determined efforts to rattle his cage to get a reaction.

My boss: “Hi Mark. Take a seat.” <Yawns loudly>

Mark the draughtsman: “Thanks.”

My boss: “Would you like a cup of tea?”

Mark the draughtsman: “No thanks, I’m ok.”

My boss: “Would you like a smack in the face?”

Mark the draughtsman: “Pardon?”

My boss: “Do you want a bag on your head?”

Mark the draughtsman: “No thanks.”

My boss: “Don’t you remember that – it’s a sketch from ‘Not the Nine o’Clock News'. It was really funny. It was about a hi fi shop with Mel Smith and Griff Rhys Jones. Have you heard of them? I don’t suppose you have.”

Mark the draughtsman: “Yes, I have. I’ve written a few jokes for Alas Smith and Jones.”

My boss: “What?”

Mark the draughtsman: “Yes I wrote for them; a few of my sketches were used.”

My boss: “Right. So you have heard of them. Anyway. About these drawings…”

 

It is true that you can’t judge a book by its cover.

A Handbag?

A Handbag?

My boss was talking to a colleague about football (again), discussing a confrontation between two players, describing it as “Just handbags” Later I quizzed him about this…

 

Me: “What does it mean… ‘just handbags’?”

 

My boss: “Well, it means it wasn’t a proper fight. It was just a bit of shoving about. Sometimes they call it ‘handbags at dawn’.”

 

Me: “But why handbags? They don’t have handbags do they?”

 

My boss: “No they don’t have actual handbags. I dunno. It’s just like… Ooooh stop it or I’ll hit you with my handbag! You know, like an old woman.”

 

Me: “Oh I see. It’s a sexist comment then?”

 

My boss: “No. No it’s not sexist. It’s just like saying someone fights like a girl.”

 

Me: “A girl? – and that’s not sexist?”

 

My boss: “No it’s not. It just means like a child. You know. You’re supposed to be a man and you’re acting like a child. You know, you need to grow up.”

 

Me: “And fight properly?”

 

My boss: “Yes; and not fight like a big girl’s blouse.”

 

Me: “A big girl’s blouse? You’ve talked about an old woman and her handbag, a little girl and the blouse of a big girl. You’ve just about covered all stages of womanhood there. But you say it’s not sexist.”

 

My boss: “No. No it’s not. It just means they weren’t fighting properly.”

 

Me: “Like a good old hefty punch in the face?”

 

My boss: “Oh no! No, no - they mustn’t do that. They’d get sent off or even disciplined.”

 

Me: “I see. So a bit of handbags is ok?”

 

My boss: “Yes. A little bit of handbags would be ok.”

 

And I thought the offside rule was supposed to be complicated.

Questions Questions

Questions Questions

Being in an office where you can hear, but not see each other is not always a good thing - especially when on the phone to a voice-operated system…

 

Automated Voice: “At what time will the goods be ready for collection?”

 

Me: “TWELVE!”

 

My boss: “What?”

 

Me: “I’m arranging a collection.”

 

My boss: “Oh”

 

Automated Voice: “Are any of the goods hazardous?”

 

My boss: “Is it TNT?”

 

Me: “NO!”

 

My boss: “Who is it then?”

 

Me: “Yes it’s TNT.”

 

My boss: “Where’s it going to?”

 

Automated Voice: “How many parcels are there to collect?”

 

Me: “TWO!”

 

My boss: “Yes, where’s it going to?”

 

Me: “Australia.”

 

My boss: “Right, how many parcels did they pack it in?”

 

Automated Voice: “To the nearest kilogram, what is the total weight of the consignment?”

 

Me: “TWENTY SEVEN!”

 

My boss: “What! That’s ridiculous! 27? Are you sure?”

 

Automated Voice: “Have you prepared three copies of the commercial invoice?”

 

Me: “YES!”

 

My boss: “That’s going to cost a fortune!”

 

Automated Voice: “What is the total value of the goods?”

 

Me: “THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY TWO POUNDS FIFTY SEVEN PENCE!”

 

My boss: “What? No! That’s far too much! ”

 

Me: “No. I was just giving the value of the goods.”

 

My boss: “Oh. But still, it’s going to be too expensive. How much is the transport going to cost?”

 

Automated Voice: “I’m sorry. Please repeat the total value of the goods.”

 

Me: “THREE HUNDRED AND TWENTY TWO POUNDS FIFTY SEVEN PENCE!”

 

My boss: “What! That’s nearly as much as the value of the order!”

 

Automated Voice: “Do you require additional insurance for this consignment?”

 

Me: “NO!”

 

My boss: “Yes it is!”

 

Automated Voice: “Thank you. Your collection is arranged. Do you want to access any other services with TNT?”

 

Me: “NO!”

 

My boss: “It is!”

 

Automated Voice: “Thank you for booking with TNT. Your call is complete.”

 

<I put the phone down.>

 

My boss: “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realise you were still on the phone.”

 

As Lord Chesterfield wisely said: “Hear one side and you will be in the dark. Hear both and all will be clear.”

Crossed Words

Crossed Words

Normally, each Monday morning there is a stamped addressed envelope on the post table addressed to “The Prize Crossword”...

 

If the crossword submission is not ready for the post then it will certainly be in the process of being completed on my boss’s desk. For it still to be work-in-progress today, on Wednesday is most unusual.

 

“I never win, but it keeps my brain active.” he says as he types the clues into Google.

 

He will only ever ask for my input when he’s totally convinced that he’s got something right and equally convinced that I will not know the answer.

 

He is also rather unappreciative of unsolicited assistance with the crossword, here is a recent example:

 

Me <looking over his shoulder>: “I don’t think that’s right.”

 

Him: “What?”

 

Me: “13 down, a type of headwear.”

 

Him: “What?”

 

Me: “Fishcake, I don’t think fishcake is a type of headwear”

 

Him: “Have you finished that report I asked for?”

 

No, he never wins the prize crossword.

Animal Instincts

Animal Instincts

At the latter stages of the week the workforce was showing signs of tiredness, irritability and general grumpiness…

 

One of the staff brought in his new puppy, Fred.

 

The tiny little creature seemed forlorn with sad eyes and a droopy tail – he seemed to embody the general atmosphere of melancholy.

 

We all looked at the puppy with a sense of oneness, of primordial understanding. We felt compassion for his fear and sorrow at being separated from his mother and siblings.

 

Then the boss arrived, seemingly insensitive to the fact that we were all busy empathising with the puppy.

 

He shrieked and scooped little Fred up into his arms, roughly rubbed Fred’s little round head and screeched “Hello! Hello! Hello!” in Fred’s little velvety ears.

 

We gasped with shock at this outburst; we were concerned that it might all be too much for Fred to cope with.

 

We needn’t have worried.

 

Fred responded to this assault by savagely chewing his chin with his little needle-like teeth and leaving a substantial wet patch on his shirt.

 

All of a sudden the mood of the whole workforce was lifted; eyes were brighter, smiles abounded and there was even a hint of muted laughter to be heard.

 

Everyone loves the little puppy.

 

It does seem to be true that it’s the little things in life that make a big difference.

International Trade

International Trade

When developing international trade it’s important to speak the same language…

 

My boss: <on the telephone> “Bonjour Madame… er… je voudrais parlez avec monsieur Soufflé s’il vous plait…… Pardon?...... il n’est pas ici?” <covers the handset> “What does il n’est pas ici mean?”

 

Me: “He isn’t here.”

 

My boss: “What?”

 

Me: “It means he isn’t here, or rather there.”

 

My boss: “Who?”

 

Me: “Monsieur Soufflé isn’t there… at the place your calling.”

 

My boss: “Where is he?”

 

Me: “I don’t know… ask her.”

 

My boss: <back on the phone> “er…OK bon, je commande  Monsieur Soufflé ist nicht dans la bureau… er… vare ist he, Monsieur Soufflé?......oh…..ok, je commande, merci beaucoup, bye bye.”

 

Me: “Where is he then?”

 

My boss: “Who?”

 

Me: “Monsieur Soufflé.”

 

My boss: “He’s not there.”

 

Me: “Oh well, try again tomorrow.”

 

The development of international trade also requires persistence.

Listening Skills

Listening Skills

The art of attentive listening…

 

My boss had just been having a lengthy discussion about football with another member of staff before returning to his desk.

 

Me: “I’m playing at a gig tomorrow.”

 

My boss: “Uh huh.”

 

Me: “Yes, it’s at a tea party for a big birthday. I’m a bit nervous.”

 

My boss: “Hmm.”

 

Me: “It’s going to be a long day because we’ve got orchestra rehearsal in the morning and then the tea party in the afternoon.”

 

My boss: “Forty six.”

 

Me: “Pardon?”

 

My boss: “What?”

 

Me: “Oh, I was just telling you about what I was doing tomorrow and you said forty six.”

 

My boss: “I’m reading this very long complicated email and I can’t do that and listen to you at the same time.”

 

Me: “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were reading an email.”

 

My boss: “mmm thirty seven, oh, oh right, thirty seven, yes.”

 

Me: “Are you doing anything interesting at the weekend?”

 

My boss: “Well, I’m going shopping in the morning. I need to get some more shower cleaner. If it’s not raining I want to get the grass cut and stain the bench and put it away for the winter. It’s very faded now. I’ll need to rub it down first. That reminds me, I need to get more sandpaper…” <10 minutes of talking later> “… and I want to tidy the shelving unit in the garage. What about you? Doing anything interesting?”

 

Me: “Well I’m playing violin in an ensemble at a tea party tomorrow.”

 

My boss: “Hmm. Really? Oh yes. Yes yes yes yes yes thirty seven that’s right.”

 

Perhaps I need to work on the art of being slightly interesting.

Come Dine With Me

Come Dine With Me

My boss had a rare visit at home from a friend…

 

Me: “How did it go last night, with your friend?”

 

My boss: “It went very well. Do you know what? He brought a bottle of wine!”

 

Me: “Oh that was nice of him. Did you cook?”

 

My boss: “No, no. He came round to watch the football match with me.”

 

Me: “Did you have nibbles then?”

 

My boss: “HE brought nibbles with him. We had a glass of wine and some peanuts watching the football.”

 

Me: “Don’t you think you should have bought some nibbles?”

 

My boss: “I did buy some Doritos but I didn’t need to get them out because he brought peanuts.”

 

The cleaner <under her breath whilst mopping the floor>: “Tight git!”

 

Me: “Will you be seeing your friend again soon?”

My boss: “No, I don’t think so. He said he’s usually very busy every evening and at weekends.”

 

I notice a small packet of “Tangy Cheese” Doritos on his desk.

A Very Smart Phone

A Very Smart Phone

My boss sometimes sends coded messages to me using the encryption “app” on his new portable Enigma machine, or smartphone… 

 

His last phone had a similar scrambling feature but it was easier to decipher messages as it used the same number of letters that were originally entered; the cryptic messages from his new smartphone (fitted with a rather fetching leopard print case; so that he knows it’s his) pose a significantly more inscrutable challenge.

 

I have asked him if he really needs to send messages using the encryption “app”. He claims that it is simply the “predictive text” function which he says is very handy and saves a lot of time.

 

A typical example of an encoded message received:

“Trifle.” (that’s my code name I think) “Im going 2 b Katie.” (that must be his code name) “Pls phone brain at tortellini.” (A criminal mastermind working undercover at an Italian restaurant?) “Tell him our manoeuvring party 4 ths am will have 2b Carolina.” (Not entirely sure what this means, but something big is definitely going on) “Thnx” (I know that one).

 

I send a return message:

“Yes. Will do. What is his number?”

 

Message received:

“Its no access database” (great; mission impossible)

 

I reply:

“Well it’s going to be difficult to phone him in that case. What do you suggest?”

 

Message received:

“Trifle. Doughnut worry. Ill phone brain from good.” (I gather that my involvement in this dodgy mission is no longer required.)

 

When he returns to the office he is a little frosty with me; perhaps he feels that I know too much <gulp>.

Think Like An Egyptian

Think Like an Egyptian

Occasionally a problem arises at work that is frustrating but interesting to try to resolve…

 

The problem presented was – how can we transport fifty long and heavy tubular things on a pallet?

 

The logistics manager suggested that we purchase a special extra-wide pallet.

 

This idea was dismissed by the boss: The cost of the special pallet and the transportation cost would be prohibitive – the long heavy tubular things had to stand upright on the pallet but must be made stable so as not to tip over.

 

I suggested that we could acquire a heavy cardboard drum. This could be secured onto the pallet and the long heavy tubular things could be packed inside.

 

This idea was dismissed out of hand.

 

I suggested a giant egg box type thing on the bottom and top.

 

This idea was also dismissed.

 

I remembered that I had read somewhere that people can be resistant to new ideas and are more likely to adopt an idea if they can be encouraged to reach that same solution for themselves...

 

“Think like an Egyptian.” I said.

 

“What are you going on about?” asked my boss.

 

“Well… how would the ancient Egyptians have dealt with this challenge?” (Note the use of the neutral euphemism “challenge” to replace the negative and stress-inducing word “problem”)

 

He looked at me quizzically for a moment and said “Egyptians? Oh! You mean their method of moving massive slabs of granite on rolling logs. No, no, no.”

 

“Erm, not quite.” I said “The moving isn’t the issue is it? Forklift trucks can be used for that. I was more concerned about the stability and thinking, what is one of the most stable structures which is associated with the Egyptians?”

 

“Pyramids!” He exclaimed “Pyramids! No! Pyramids are made of stone and our problem is about long heavy tubes. No.”

 

“Ok, similar to a pyramid... but made of tube-like things… a tepee… we could arrange the tubes like the frame of a tepee." I suggested.

 

“Oh, I see” he said “They’re crossed over at the top though; how would we stop the criss-cross top from slipping and falling apart?”

 

Trying to steer the conversation back so that he would reach the solution himself, I said “Well, how did the tepee dwellers stop the criss-cross bit at the top of their tepees from slipping and falling apart?”

 

He thought for a while before replying “Animal skins!”

 

I was silenced by this response.

 

He went on to say “Animal skins. No. No. I think what we need to do is get an extra-wide pallet and lay the tubes flat on that.”

 

“Sounds like a good idea.” I said.

 

“Yes, well,” he replied “You have to be good at problem solving in this game. You’ve got to come up with unique ideas - you know - think outside the envelope.”

 

Quite.

The Friday Joke

The Friday Joke

 

My boss sometimes eases into the levity of the weekend by telling me a Friday joke…

 

My boss: “Come in boat number 96 your time is up” <dramatic pause> “Boat number 69 are you in trouble?”.

 

Me: “But that doesn’t work does it?”

 

My boss: “No, no don’t you get it? What’s 96 upside down?”

 

Me: “96”

 

My boss: “No! upside down!”

 

Me: “You write 96 on a piece of paper and turn it upside down”.

 

My boss: “Hmm well it’s just a joke – you’re not supposed to think about it”.

The Marketing Guru

The Marketing Guru

Introducing the Marketing Guru...

The Marketing Guru persuaded my boss to subscribe to her services. It seems that she managed to achieve this by sitting really close to him, feigning an interest in his television-watching exploits and loudly proclaiming that he was obviously very clever and very busy.

For some reason she rarely visits and, if she phones, she strongly resists being put through to my boss, preferring instead to leave a brief message.

We have just had a rare visit from the Marketing Guru. Last time she got into my bad books by being shouty and messily eating an overfilled coronation chicken sandwich in the office. This time however she redeemed herself by speaking softly, just drinking tea and telling me that she likes my hair.

TV Talk

TV Talk

My boss enjoys watching television in the evening. His enjoyment is multiplied by reporting his television viewing experiences to his staff...

My boss: “I’ll tell you what I saw last night, a quiz show called “The Chase”… did you watch it?”

Me: “No, I don’t like quiz shows”.

<10 minutes of being told all about it>

My boss: “….and there was this one guy who could answer all the questions about nature because he was a naturist”

Me: “A naturist is someone who takes their clothes off.”

My boss: “No, that’s a nudist”

Me: “They’re the same thing”

My boss: “Well what was he then?”

Me: “I don’t know, I didn’t watch it, but probably a naturalist”

My boss: “I’m sure they said he was a naturist”

Me: “Well then he might have been a naturist who knows all about nature”

My boss: “Yes, he did, he could answer all of the nature questions.”

No Representatives Seen Without An Appointment

There is a notice on the entrance door to the building: “NO REPRESENTATIVES SEEN WITHOUT AN APPOINTMENT”. This often is the source of nonsense. Here is a typical scenario...

My boss: “Is that someone at the door?”

Me: “Yes it is.”

My boss: “Who is it?”

Me: “I don’t know.”

My boss: “I’m not expecting any visitors, who is it?” <My boss goes to the door to investigate>.

My boss: “Yes?”

Person at the door: “Oh, hello. I’m from such and such a company and I wondered if I could have a word with the owner.”

My boss: “I am the owner.”

Person at the door: “Oh great, good to meet you. We’re in the area at the moment and I wonder if I could interest you in such and such a product?”

My boss <pointing to the notice on the door>: “We don’t see representatives without an appointment!”

Person at the door: “Oh yes, I see. Could I make an appointment to see you then?”

My boss: “You’d have to phone up.”

Person at the door: “Could I have the phone number then please?”

My boss: “I’m not giving you the phone number; I don’t know who you are.”

Person at the door: “I just introduced myself before.”

My boss: “Well I don’t want you to phone here; I get enough phone calls from people trying to sell me things I don’t want.”

Person at the door: “Why didn’t you just say you weren’t interested?”

My boss: “Look, we don’t see representatives without an appointment – I haven’t got time for all this. I’m far too busy.”

<Person is no longer at the door>

My boss: “I’m sick of people wasting my time. Can’t they read? We don’t see people without an appointment. It’s terrible!”

Me: “Hmm, yes, it’s terrible.”

The Story Behind the Frog Mask

The Story Behind the Frog Mask

Frog Mask beginnings...

I went to the cinema once and they were giving away little cardboard masks. I took the frog one and later took it to work with me. The frog mask hid away in my desk drawer for a long time until I found a use for it…

My boss was clearly distressed about something one day and I asked him what the matter was. He said that he would like to talk about it with me but his fiancée had a problem with him discussing their personal life with me – he had promised her that he would never discuss their private life with me again.

He was still obviously agitated and wished to unburden himself – it was then that I remembered the frog mask in my desk… “I’ve got an idea” I said “I’ll put this frog mask on and you can tell the frog about your problems.”

Rather than dismissing this suggestion as the bizarre and ridiculous notion that it was, he said “OK then.”

So there I was at my desk, arms folded and peering at my boss through the tiny frog eye holes, listening attentively to his domestic strife story. The frog offered comfort and advice and my boss seemed satisfied with this peculiar exchange.

On several occasions after that, my boss would approach my desk, hesitate, then finally wave his hand towards my desk drawer and say “Ummm, er…. Could you put the frog mask on? I need to talk.”