To ensure that he maintains a firm and unwavering hand on the tiller of his good ship Titanic, he conducts a Daily Catch Up, which sees the various area heads pay homage to him each and every benighted morning.
I say homage – it’s more a case of they sit in a little huddle around his desk like toads kettling the big, chubby fecund female.
Basically, what they discuss each day is: who is rubbish, which area is doing badly, and being told that they are also rubbish.
Helpful hints are proffered, but they are more along the lines of: you’re a bit useless, try this.
Then it moves onto who is off sick, are they a malingerer or do they have any ‘personal problems’, which are then categorised as terminal, a long-term issue or complete garbage.
Following this appraisal, it’s the turn of the staff who are facing disciplinary action, whether verbal warnings or improvement programs are needed, or just plain how do we sack them?
Considering the level of sniping and Romanesque intrigue, it has always amused me that these little sessions are conducted around my boss’ desk, which sits at the front of our area in full view of everyone.
You can see the panic and sewage-streaked fear in the eyes of the minions should they mistake a head nod in their direction as the signal of disapproval.
My boss will normally instigate the mob bashing of some scapegoat and then, like Nero at the climax will lean forward, his half-moon spectacles almost blood red in the sunlight, and with yellowing canines ask: ‘What does everyone think?’
This is inevitably followed by some drudge, stuttering and struggling for a new angle to take.
Now I no longer have to partake in the daily catch up, I can sit at my desk, emailing Bob about the latest footie transfer news and smile ruefully from a distance, as yet another colleague has their crushed ashen face stomped on.
