The Rise and Fall of an Office Toad

Every office has them. Those ass-creeping, butt-sucking, do-gooding, tattle-taling, boot-licking gits. Bosses love them and their co-workers loathe them, and sometimes even fear them. After all, they have the boss’s ear.

Office toadies are good at  office politics, clawing their way up the corporate ladder, stirring up trouble, manipulating co-workers – and even getting people fired. That’s their mission in life. The best policy is to avoid them like the plague (unless you’re one of them).

You can spot the ass-creepers a mile off. Here are some general characteristics of the office toady:

• They gossip a lot and smile a lot. At everyone. Including you – while they’re putting the knife in your back.
• They like to arrive for work an hour earlier than everyone else, to score brownie points with the boss.
• They go around the office with a superior attitude – as if they know something you don’t. Which they probably do.
• They will go to almost any lengths to suck up to the boss.
• They always agree with everything the boss says and does – right or wrong.

Our office had a particularly bad office toad once. He used to eavesdrop on everyone and report our conversations to the boss. He would skulk around the office like an undercover KGB agent, with a little notepad, making notes whenever he spotted something “untoward” e.g. “so-and-so” sneaked some office stationary home in her handbag. And “so-and-so” was late again returning from lunch and there was the unmistakable hint of alcohol on his breath! He actually managed to get two people fired.

Then we took our revenge.

We employed several “dirty tricks” of our own. We obtained the key to the mens room door and locked him in there for hours. Regularly. We’d cut the network cable to his computer so he couldn’t get any work done until a technician arrived hours later. Regularly. We stole his stationary, poured salt in his coffee and shredded his files. Regularly. We deflated the tires of his car in the parking lot. Daily. We hid his cell phone (in the toilet), undid the screws on his swivel chair (which sent him flying and landing on the floor in a shrivelled heap on more than one occasion). After a couple of weeks, he got the message.

Soon after that he developed a nervous facial tic and began looking over his shoulder periodically, as if he was being stalked (which he was). His left eye jumped involuntarily and his eyes darted around the room nervously, to see where the next onslaught was coming from. He became rather paranoid. He would check under his chair before venturing to sit down, crawl under his desk to make sure his network cable was intact and not hanging by a thread, and dip his pinky finger in his coffee cup and taste it gingerly to find out if his coffee was sugared or salted. Eventually he stopped drinking coffee altogether and began bringing bottled water to work. We salted that too.

The Toad’s paranoia increased. He began to feel that everyone was out to get him. Which, of course, we were. It was around about then that he began taking tranquilizers. He became so doped up that sabotaging him was hardly fun anymore.

The final blow came when he lost favor with the boss. The boss is many things but he ain’t stupid. He could see The Toad had lost it. He was of no more use anymore so the boss cut him loose. That was the Toad’s last straw.

One day the Toad just stopped coming to work. A week later his wife arrived to clean out his desk. “What happened to so-and-so?” someone asked her innocently.
“He’s been sent to a… rest home to . . . recuperate,” she replied vaguely, not meeting anybody’s eyes.

“Recuperate from what?”

“Umm, stress,” she mumbled.
“Will he be coming back?”

“Not anytime soon,” she said, scampering off with the toad’s belongings under her arm. As she left the building, she looked over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

A Quick Course in Sales, or How Not To Kill Your Customers

Sales is not my thing. It involves interacting with people. And when dealing with people, i.e. customers, things start getting complicated. Customers are unpredictable. Customers are demanding. Customers can turn ugly at the drop of a hat. Customers generally assume that the only reason you were put on this earth was to serve them.

“Our customers are the lifeblood of this company and don’t you forget it!” the boss said the other day, giving the staff one of his lengthy sermons. “Our customers pay your salaries so treat them with courtesy!”

If anybody knows our customers, it’s Bertha. She’s the company’s most experienced, and hardened, salesperson. She’s been on the sales floor,  as a supervisor,  for over 30 years. During the course of her career, she has witnessed the ugly underbelly of human nature all too frequently. This has turned her into a bit of a cynic.

“Customers are pigs,” she would often say dismissively. “That’s my opinion anyway. Sure, you get the nice ones, but they’re few and far between. Most of our customers are whiners. Whingers. And potential kleptomaniacs. If it’s not nailed down they’ll probably steal it. In sales, you need eyes in the back of your head.”

I bumped into Bertha the other day at the coffee machine. Usually, if I see her coming, I do a swift U-turn or dive into the nearest office to avoid her. The woman is intimidating. She’s not the kind of person you’d spend a few minutes exchanging idle office gossip with. Most of the staff are terrified of her – especially the sales staff who work under her.

But the other I was unable to avoid her (we arrived at the coffee machine simultaneously), so I decided to make an awkward attempt at smalltalk.

“Hello, Bertha. How’s it going these days in the sales department these days?” I tried to sound lighthearted and chatty.

She scowled at me. “Ever been in sales?”

I squirmed a little. “Well, no. But I do know that the customer is always supposed to be  right. Isn’t that one of the cardinal rules in sales?” I added brightly.

“Are you crazy?” she scoffed, slamming down her coffee cup and spilling hot liquid all over my shoes. “The customer is always wrong. We only allow the customer to think they’re  right. Makes ‘em feel important. Boosts their ego. Calms them down. Butters them up. It’s a pain in the butt but it’s good for business. You learn to live with it.”

“Oh. So even though they’re wrong, you still try and be nice to them?”

Bertha glared at me.  Her beehive hairdo quivered with indignation. “Nice? Who said anything about nice? In sales we’re polite and courteous and even try to be humble – but never nice. Nice soon wears off after a couple of months. Being nice to a customer just doesn’t cut it in sales. ESP might help, though,” She snorted.

“ESP?”

“Extra … sensory … perception,” she enunciated the words slowly as though speaking to a dimwitted child. “Mind reading. In this business it helps if you’re clairvoyant. Our customers expect it. In fact, they demand it. Most of them have difficulty making their needs understood. They just assume that we’re able to read their minds.” She rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

“Er . . . speaking of difficult customers, I’ve often wondered . . . how do you deal with . . . angry customers?”

“Ah, angry customers.” Bertha sighed with satisfaction. “Dealing with irate customers is my speciality. Whenever there’s trouble on the sales floor my staff call me immediately. I have my set rules when dealing with belligerent customers.”

“Rules?”

She nodded curtly. ” Rule Number One: avoid making sudden, jerky movements. It sets them off and makes them downright hostile. You soon learn to recognize the danger signals of an agitated customer getting out of control.  Believe me, if you don’t nip it in the bud it soon escalates into something really nasty. It’s easy to spot the danger signals: red face, bulging eyes, flecks of spit around the lips, swollen veins appearing at the temples or neck, shrill voice, vulgar language, verbal insults and, inevitably,  physical threats.” She rattled the words off like a machine gun.

“Rule Number Two: When a customer starts getting aggressive, I humor them and agree with everything they say. This often calms them down. By the way, I tell my staff never to use foul language or rude hand signals in retaliation. It’s a futile exercise and will very likely get you fired.

Don't Show The finger

Also,  you gotta avoid  eye contact –  the customer takes this as being confrontational.”

I nodded.

“Rule Number Three: As a matter of policy, I always keep a safe bodily distance between me and an agitated customer. This stands you in good stead if things get really out of hand.” She snorted with derision.  ” Let me tell you, I’ve never allowed a customer to goad me to violence, though heaven knows I’ve had plenty of reason to strangle quite a few. But it simply won’t do. If one kills the customer, it is very definitely bad for business.” She chuckled.

“Any more rules?” I ventured.

“Final Rule: If you’re physically attacked by the customer, it’s best to lie down and play dead. It’s hard for them to fight with someone who’s not fighting back. If that doesn’t work,  I usually resort to Plan B.”

“What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B?” she said gravely. “You call security and run like hell.”

The Idiot’s Guide to Debt Collecting

Credit control is an ugly business. It is probably one of the worst jobs in any company (Yes, there are worse. Like Customer Complaints, for instance).

Doris, our credit controller, has been doing the job for almost 10 years now and it’s taken its toll. The woman is a wreck. She cries  every morning on her way to work, has a bottle of tranquilizers on her desk, and a bottle of scotch in her bottom drawer.  To help her through the day. I guess you could say she’s lost faith in humanity. “People are such liars,” she mutters sadly every time she puts the phone down on another  delinquent customer. “They promise to pay, and they never do.  I’m so tired of all the lies.”

Doris reported in sick on Monday. Actually, her therapist reported in on her behalf. Doris, he said, was not in a fit mental state to talk to anyone at present – let alone the company’s debtors. Her job had taken its toll, he said. Doris, he warned, was like someone fighting in the trenches for too long. She was shell shocked. She was battle weary. There is, after all, only so much stress a human being can take before cracking up, he added. And Doris, in his opinion, was dangerously close to that point. He implored the boss to transfer her to another department before she suffered a complete emotional breakdown. The boss slammed the phone down on him. “He should do my job for 5 minutes, then he’ll know what stress and warfare is all about!” he growled. “Goddamn pansy!” he snapped as an afterthought.

So while Doris was recuperating from battle fatigue, I was told to do her job. It took five phonecalls to wayward debtors to realize she was right: they were vague and evasive, made promises they had no intention of keeping, and lied through their teeth. (Why hasn’t this bill been paid? Sorry, I forgot. But we send you a reminder every month, and have made six follow up calls. I forgot -okay?) Trying to squeeze money out of these wily dodgers is like trying to catch a slippery fish in a scum pond with your bare hands.

Our company policy on collecting overdue bills is pretty straightforward. The training manual suggests making forceful, but courteous calls. Forceful, I agree with. Courteous I don’t.

So I gave it some thought. And it seemed to me that the company should rewrite it’s debtors policy, and hire a new breed of credit controller altogether to get better results. For example, I think that any company would do far better following the Mafia business model of debt collecting.

Gangster: I want full payment by next Tuesday, plus 100% interest for my inconvenience, got that, Joe?

Joe (sweating and swallowing hard): G-g-got that.

Gangster: If you ain’t got the dough by Tuesday, I’ll break your kneecaps, blow up your car and cook your rabbits. Got that?

A new breed of Credit Controller

You can bet your life Joe gets it. It’s a quick and forceful message that drives the point home immediately. No frills. No BS. Just pay – or else.

If companies adopt that kind of debt collection strategy they would see immediate and amazing results. Sure,  you might end up alienating a few people, but who cares? Who needs that kind of customer anyway?  Word will soon get round: Don’t F*** with that company or you’ll end up sleeping with the fishes. Now that’s forceful.

Office Safety Rules for Dummies

The office can be a dangerous work environment if you’re not careful, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I received a memo from our newly appointed safety officer just the other day:

General memo to staff: Please read the following safety suggestions and warnings carefully to avoid possible injury.

The Hidden Dangers of the Swivel Office Chair.

Anyone who uses an office chair with castor wheels (which is 98,5% of all staff, by the by) must be careful not to lean back too far as they’ve been known to tip over backwards. This may result in a rather nasty, and potentially embarrassing, spill – as was recently witnessed. Some of you may remember, last week Helga, the new Temp Girl (the one who wears the tall stiletto heels that are, in themselves, a serious safety risk) leaned back in her chair, lost her balance and fell over backwards, flailing her legs wildly in the air like a beetle on its back. It was not only dangerous – she might have been concussed or otherwise seriously injured – but also extremely undignified and embarrassing (especially for a woman wearing a mini skirt as she was).That is why it is essential to treat swivel chairs with utmost caution. (they have also been known to slip out from under you just as you are about to sit down).

Hissing and Spitting Coffee Machine.

Will everyone please take note that the office coffee machine has become a potential safety threat of late. The machine is malfunctioning at present and seems to have developed a mind of its own (yes, it is computerized, therefore it has artificial intelligence, so take this threat seriously). I have received reports that it tends to hiss and spit vicious puffs of scalding steam when attempting to place a cup or mug under its spout. Be warned, this may cause serious burns to the hands.

The Potential Danger of Toilet Stall No 2.

Attention all ladies: the door latch of stall number 2 (that’s the second stall on your right as you enter the ladies restroom) has been known to jam of late. The building janitor has been notified but the latch has yet to be replaced. As we all are aware, Mavis from HR was stuck in the ladies for a whole hour on Tuesday before summoning up the courage to scream for help. If Jones had’nt heard what he described as a ” horrible wailing sound” which, by the by, he at first assumed was an alley cat in season – Mavis may not have been rescued for hours. Her ordeal was bad enough as it was, she had to be administered a tranquilizer and was sent home for the rest of the day. So ladies, please avoid stall No 2 until further notice (even if you are desperate “to go”).

Dealing with Dangerous Customers.

After the nasty incident the other day when Smith from Sales was rather brutally attacked by an irate customer and beat badly about the head with her  handbag, I thought it prudent to issue the following safety precautions

Do not attempt to handle violent customers yourself!

when dealing with angry customers. Be sure to keep a safe bodily distance when dealing with aggressive customers. Angry customers have been known to be extremely unpredictable when aroused, and may pose a serious physical threat if the situation is not handled properly in the following ways: (1) Try to resolve the complaint or cause of irritation amicably (safest option).

(2) If that’s not possible, try to placate the customer in any way possible. For example, by offering a complete refund, or substantial discount, or a bunch of freebies.

(3) If that does not calm the customer down, call for a senior co-worker. supervisor or manager to take over and handle the situation.

(4) If no senior is available or, if you are the senior, and the situation is getting out of hand, call security.

(5) Step back at least 5 paces and allow security to deal with the situation from there. Do not, I repeat, do not involve yourself in any scuffle or physical violence that may ensue.

De-Motivated by Motivational Speakers

As a whole I don’t like motivational speakers. They’re just too good to be true. Like they have all the answers. Like they know it all and you know nothing. And they smile far too much. They’re not to be trusted.

Here’s a case in point: Hitler was probably the most persuasive and infamous motivational speaker of all time, and look what happened there. He

Greatest motivational speaker ever?

motivated a whole nation right down the toilet. He motivated them to hate and do evil deeds. He motivated them to do strange hand signals and march the ridiculous goose step. He motivated them to generally cock up the whole of Europe in just a few short years. That’s quite a feat. Motivating doesn’t come on a grander scale than that.

Business motivational speakers can only dream of being that persuasive. Imagine Hitler being in charge of a large corporation today. First of all, he’d fire all workers who were not blond, blue-eyed, or of pure ayrian descent. Then he’d change the company logo (” I’m thinking something with a red background. Perhaps a black circle, some stripes… oh, and yes, a kind of cross symbol with some foot thingies on the end”). Of course he’d beef up company security to spy on employees and keep them in check – and interrogate them at disciplinary hearings. And can you imagine his board of directors? Himmler, Goebbels, Goring and a whole bunch of other psycopaths. Then he would motivate his staff personally (no motivational speaker for him), whip them into a frenzy, and send them out to conquer and take over all the competition like it was their god-given right. Hostile take overs and raiding companies would be just up his alley. The man would be unstoppable. Come to think of it, it reminds me a little of Enron.

In our company, management loves motivational speakers – they may have even hired Hitler for a couple of gigs if he had been available. Our company squanders hundreds of thousands of dollars a year hiring motivational speakers periodically to come and “shove a cracker up our butts,” as the boss likes to put it. And then they arrive in their shiny German saloons (coincedence?), with their laptops and their state-of-the-art overhead projectors and mind boggling Powerpoint presentations.They’re all supremely confident, well groomed and . . . superior. They make you feel like a worthless shit by comparison. A dismal failure.Why don’t you have any clearcut goals? Why can’t you increase your productivity by 300% in 2 weeks? Why can’t you earn a 6-figure income? Why haven’t you made it into management yet? With your attitude, will you ever amount to anything in this company? What the hell is wrong with you, mister/sister? Get with the program! Catch a wake up! Pull that finger out your butt! Stop sitting on your hands! Time is money, don’t you know? And time is a wasting, you worthless git!