Confessions of an Office Boy 3 of 5

For a few years in my "mid to late twenties" I worked at a Legal Services company. Frequently, I emailed little quips and blurbs about my job to my mother. She kept them all. Many years after when I decided to start writing I put a bunch of them together in the hopes of making a story. I cleaned them up, adding bits here and there, but I could never quite make them into anything I felt "publishable." The writing style and tone were fine at the time, but changing them to any sort of "literary standard" drastically lost the sincerity in which they were written. So, I gave up on them... until now!!! I hate that I just did that, said "until now" prefaced by an ellipsis. Anyway, I'm going to "release" what I had put together on Facebook and on my shitty blog that I pay no attention to. This is "Episode 3 of 5" of Confessions of an Office Boy.

Confession of an Office Boy 3 of 5

Email #13:

There is a certain technique to answering the office phone that if done correctly will make you look like a serious individual who has a lot of clout. When the phone rings take a second to think about it; rushing to answer is a sign of weakness. When you finally decide to pick it up, gently pick up the receiver looking left and right. Never look straight ahead at the phone, or at the computer. This shows incompetence. Next, after slowly rolling your eyes and neck, nonchalantly state who you are and the company name. Then, look at a coworker with a face that says, “I could do this in my sleep.” Put the call through to whatever department it needs to go to. And now, this is key, don't just hang up the phone. Continue looking in other directions and let your phone-talking hand go limp. Relaxed, you can slide the phone into its saddle. Make sure to use a nice forward motion at low speed with a subtle release. This whole process looks even better if you do it standing up.

Email #14:

Shelley is fifty and can't figure out the scanner. For some people change is tough and I fear that when everything switches to electronic filing she'll be forced into early retirement. I wonder why she doesn't just get with the times. Scanning is even easier than the old way, which was the typewriter.

I really enjoy it when she scans things sideways and they come out in a foreign language or that Wingdings font.

Email #15:

Harold, the president of the company, came in today. We were told to dress nice for the occasion. I wore my Safe Injection Site t-shirt. He comes every six months or so to give us the financial details of the company, promising that the salary-freeze is “nearly over.” He just does this to lift our spirits, to keep us hoping. He started patting himself on the back for his decision to make our office an open-planned one, saying it’s increased productivity.

I’d rather stare at the blank wall of a cubicle. Instead, I have to look at Sandra’s face- the backs of our computer monitors touch. It’s way to close. If I gaze off into space she’ll start talking to me about the difficulties of being single, how “she’ll just stay home and watch CSI Miami by herself”, that one day she’ll move up to Power River and run a scuba shop. Add in the banks of buzzing fluorescent lights and the complete lack of windows in the office and it’s enough to give you a migraine. I often feel like I’m in an asylum for the corporately challenged.

Email #16:

I don’t think the girl at Copy Print likes me. I go there to have poorly put together Affidavits re-bound. She is cold and non-receptive to my requests. She always seems to find something wrong with the way I ask for service. I've become quite nervous about the whole thing. Will I stutter when I say, “quarter-inch depth,” “clear-ply,” or “translucent cover?” Am I standing strangely, have bad hair? Am I ugly? Her lack of anything frightens me. She'll start the work, which takes all of three minutes, in such a forceful, robotic way that she makes me feel guilty for being there. On the plus side, I think she is the only person who actually thinks I’m a lawyer, and, because of this, I try to walk with calculated ease when I leave.

Email #17:

A client phoned and asked me to photocopy an entire court file. This is usually an easy job. It’s never a problem. I consider it my bread and butter. However, the file requested contained five boxes of documents. The court charges one dollar per page. There were one thousand one hundred and sixteen pages in the file. My hourly rate includes notarizing the documents and stapling them together, or finding clips if they are too thick for staples, or elastics if they are too thick for clips, and rope if too big for elastics, and really thick re-enforced rebar cages if too strong for rope, and carefully escorted armoured trucks if too important for re-enforced rebar cages, and Governmental protection agencies, created and disbanded for the sole purpose of transporting court documents if carefully escorted armoured trucks are not available.

I told the client the file was sealed.

Email #18:

I can't fax. I try. I double, triple check the numbers. I punch them in slowly. I watch the paper slide through the machine. Nine times out of ten someone brings me a piece of paper that says my fax did not go through. It’s a scar on my job performance. I keep blaming the other side's fax machine but one day someone will discover my “ dark secret” and make a complaint and then I won’t get that thirty-five cent raise I’m due for in three years.

Email #19:

Stephanie has come back to Dyke & Howard. She spent four months working at another firm that didn't pay as well and was led by a lunatic who insisted that she come in forty-five minutes early for work to turn on the lights and make coffee while not being paid.

Stephanie left that firm and began working part-time on-call cleaning the elderly. The money was good, she says, but geriatrics only needed cleaning twice a week.

Stephanie lives with her Latin lover, Carlos. His chimney sweeping business is on hard times, she says. The modern age of gas and electric fireplaces have limited his business opportunities. They plan on having children in the next few years and recently financed a new car.

Stephanie has previous experience in Showing up on Time, Keeping Her Mouth Shut When a Customer Makes a Bigoted Statement, and Ignoring the Fact You Chew on Your Pen All Day. She is a recent graduate from the School of Why Am I Here, What Did I Do Wrong?


William Farrant