On the way home from work today, I contemplated about whether or not I should be blogging this. Blogging about one’s work is always a tricky proposition. You’d jeapordise not only your current job but also any future employment opportunities. But I feel that what happened to me today was so surreal and bizarre that I can’t really be faulted for it.
So here goes …
Me: Hi, this is Marcus. How can I help you? Customer: Yes, I want to query about an invoice. Me: Ok, what’s the invoice number? Customer: 123456. Me: Ok let’s see. Yup, that’s an invoice from April and it has been paid for. Customer: I know it’s been paid for. What I want to know is why did I pay for something that I didn’t use? Me: I’m sorry. I don’t quite understand your question. Customer: I didn’t use it so why was I invoiced? Me: I’m sorry but it doesn’t work like that. When you create an account with us, you are paying for it up front. It doesn’t matter if you choose to use it or not. Customer: Who created this account for me? Me: I’m assuming that it would be yourself or someone on your behalf. We don’t manually create accounts unless instructed. Customer: Well I didn’t create this and I didn’t use it. Me: *getting more and more exasperated* Let me check our records. It appears that this account was created 2 years ago and you have been paying for it until now. Customer: *getting agitated now* But I haven’t been using it! Why did I get an invoice?! Me: The system is automatic. It invoices everyone who has an account with us. Customer: This is not right. Me: Unfortunately because it has been more than 30 days since the invoice date, we can’t offer you a refund. Was there a reason why you paid for something that you didn’t intend to use? You could have chosen to let it lapse. Customer: *ignoring my question* This is ridiculous. I want to speak to someone else. Me: There’s only me at the moment. I can leave a message for one of our accounts person to call you back tomorrow? Customer: Yes, that would be good. Me: ok-thanks-bye-click!
Why anyone would automatically pay an invoice, and for something that they don’t intend on using, and THEN complain about it 3 months later is quite bewildering. But now that I got that off my chest, I feel better. And tomorrow I’d have to repeat the story to our accounts person. Oh what fun it would be.
I happily woke up early and showed up at the office around 10am this morning. I sat down, checked my emails, looked through my notes from last week about things to do this week and fired off a couple of instant messages and emails.
As I logged into the phone system, my colleague Phil looked up from his computer nonchalantly and asked,
What are you doing at work today, Marcus?
Then it hit me. It’s my FREAKING DAY OFF! ARGH!
And I blame the alcohol on Saturday night.
Let me count the ways:
3 bottles of Tooheys Extra Dry
1 bottle of Corona
3 tequila shots
1 Slippery Nipple
1 Jack and Coke
That will do, pig. That will do.
And whilst feeling restless waiting for the bus and train back home today (again with the kids!), I thought it would be much more bearable if I can kill the time by surfing the Internet with an iPhone. I’m so tempted to get one now.
Alcohol impairs your judgement, oh yes it does. It made me go to work on my day off, and then because I suddenly had nothing to do all day, it also convinced me that my life is empty and that I needed the Jesus phone.
Due to the generosity of my boss in Melbourne, my colleague and I will have 10am starts every day for the rest of this month. It means I get to take the later train and avoid the morning rush. And that’s sweet. Or it would have been if it wasn’t also school holidays right now.
I never realise how annoying teenagers speak these days. Every sentence ends and sounds like a question, and the word “like” is used like, a little too much? And man, the swearing. Did we use to swear so much? “Fucken” is used by teenagers as the universal adjective more and more. The language is so coarse that it hurts your ears if you listen to it too much. Fucken this, and fucken that. “Aw yeah, it was fucken good mate. You should have seen his fucken face. It was fucken awesome.” It’s like the word has lost, like it’s shock value?
Mind you, there are some interesting sights though. Like for example, the bogan moms with their mullet-haired babies; the prissy girls in their tartan coats holding handphones fancier than mine, being watched over by their equally prissy and high-maintenance looking of a mother; emo punk goths scaring the little old ladies sitting across of them; and tweens dressed as their favourite Bratz dolls making grown men squirm uncomfortably in their seats.
And since I love people watching, all of this is like just fucken rocks?! If only it wasn’t like so fucken noisy? That would have been even better, yeah?
In the news today was a story about the 2005 suicide of a female ambulance officer who’d endured 6 years of workplace bullying. She was 38, and married with a 3 year old daughter.
She could not even leave her car at work because the tyres were let down, her toilet at work was urinated “all over” and she was constantly ridiculed by fellow officers in front of patients, her mother-in-law, Carolynn Hodder, has told the inquiry in a written submission. She believed her death was the culmination of sustained victimisation by colleagues since she started at Cowra in 1999. She said the bullying went up the line to management and was ignored.
Christine Hodder had lodged two formal complaints, one in 2001 and another a few months before she died, about bullying and harassment by several officers and had twice been on stress leave.
The bullying was despicable. But what intrigued me more was why had she stayed on in such a vile and toxic workplace for six whole years? Was there really no other choices of employment? Being the husband, wouldn’t it have broken his heart to see his wife in such pain and stress on a daily basis? Why didn’t he encourage her to leave? Or maybe he had tried but she wouldn’t budge? Did she want to make a stand against the bullies? But surely he could have tried even harder then?
If I was placed in such a situation, there’s a limit to my making a stand. I’d first tolerate and then I’d endure. Then I’d make formal complaints. I’d tolerate some more, and maybe suffer retaliation for making a formal complaint. After that, if no actions were taken I’d leave. This is not war, you don’t get a medal for being brave or standing your ground against all odds. In fact, it’s stupid. Why would you want to continue working for a company which doesn’t value your morale?
Christine had made two complains to senior management, and had gone on stress leave twice. I wonder what it was that made her think it was going to be worthwhile to persist. And when she finally decided to leave, why leave in such a final fashion?
In this story, her co-workers are the worst offenders. That’s obvious. But what of the husband? Why didn’t he pull her away from such avoidable misery? And what about Christine herself who facilitated her own bullying by staying, and who thought in the end that there was only either the job or death?
As tragic as it was, Christine’s death was very much avoidable. And because it wasn’t, all parties are culpable including the victim herself.
Last night was an unusually lousy night out for me. The first stop for the night was at my favourite Saturday haunt, The Deen. We saw our favourite bartender Sam who waved and blew kisses at us when she saw us. That put us on a good start. But somehow, the music didn’t do it for me and neither did the pretty girls.
Next up was Metro City, a predominantly Asian club and a place that plays R&B - two things that I’ve since moved away from. Unless I’m in an Asian city, I don’t like walking into a place that makes you forget that you are in Australia and where the sprinkling of white folks makes them look like expats or tourists. Which I guess is a little bit ironic to feel since most of the friends that I go out clubbing with are Asian. Hmm, I’m kinda conflicted that way.
Still some friends were going and I had fun seeing them, and bumping into and saying hello to other people whom I know from around places. But no amount of alcohol and not even a little something recreational on the side was gonna lift me into the mood that I wanted to be in. My mind was already made up about the night, and the power of the mind was going to be stronger than those of chemicals this time round. If you can imagine being drunk and high but bored, and surrounded by other people who seem to be having more fun than you are, that was me last night. And it was teh sux.
To cap off the night very well I thought was the long lonely walk to the carpark in the freezing cold (3°C last night!) at 3am while my friends were still happily partying inside.
But today is another day and I can’t complain. And, waking up to the comfort food that is my mother’s porridge didn’t hurt.
It’s my FREAKING DAY OFF! ARGH!
