I love training sessions. I’m not important enough to get the real deal or fancy weekend away, getting fluffed and fawned over by flunkies type of junket. But I do get to go on pointless courses which normally use up two or three days and would otherwise get eaten up printing documents and looking at accounts with a hangover, pretending I don’t have a hangover and that I am just looking at what documents to print. And so on.
I love the training rituals of introducing yourself. Weighing up whether to give your full name, the specific job title you have and the departmental sliver you live in: ‘My name is Carson Crapp, I’m currently the assistant leader for marketing, directives, facilities and underwriting. And I’ve worked here 39 years. Something interesting about myself? I collect unstuffed animals.’ That sort of thing.
It’s only amusing as long as it stays in your head, and certainly should never be risqué enough that you irritate the trainer and become a marked man.
One thing I do love throwing myself into though is role plays. I’ve learnt through bitter experience the horror of being a reluctant participant. Far better to bite the bullet and be willing to pretend to be an aggressive co-worker with all the gusto of a Keith Chegwin’s Naked Jungle contestant.
I also love the constant cigarette breaks, the stupid work related quizzes (turn the page over for the answers) and the ego-fuelled windbags who think that they are making a successful career move by characterising themselves as the sort of person who lovingly talks to themselves whilst staring into a mirror.
Also, to be honest – I do like meeting people from other areas of the business. It’s reassuring. They have exactly the same gripes and moans as I do. It seems I am not alone (hurrah) – and its the realisation we’re all sheltering under a hole- punched umbrella staring out at the rain.
Occasionally though, training can be useful.
After going on a few management courses, I have come to recognise several of my boss’ tactics and have now learnt to counter them. Not all of them though of course. His array of about 30 different certificates and citations dotted about his desk attest to the fact he is an over-trained baboon – and therefore still very dangerous.
