Office chat

Colleague B: I don't have a career. A job, yes, I have one of those, but no career here that I can see (looks under laptop, under desk, generally around the office).

Colleague B: Trajectory schmectory. There are only jobs, soul-destroying ones. Careers are a myth, the sole purpose of which is to mollify and subvert your innermost doubts about the capitalist system.

Colleague A: Fuck you Colleague B, and your mother. Fuck your entire family in fact and all of your ancestors.

Later, maybe inevitably, the two colleagues fornicate in a cheap hotel opposite the office, after which they do a couple of bongs and debate whether Marx misappropriated Hegelian dialectics (Colleague A thinks he did, Colleague B isn't so sure).

***

Subordinate: here, this is the work I have done.

Boss: why are you giving me this?

Subordinate: because your job is to review my work.

Boss: my job, the purpose thereof, is not for you to define, thank you very much. Having said that, I will review your work presently.

The boss reviews the subordinate’s work with a frown that gets more and more complicated. Finally, she says: this is not the work I asked you to do.

Subordinate: no, it is something I decided to do myself without seeking your permission to do so.

Boss: hmm, you do realise that this contravenes a fundamental, if not sacred, protocol?

Subordinate: I am aware of that, yes. However, I thought it was worth taking the risk.

Boss: oh did you now! Well, I shall have to report you to HR, of course. That’s a given. But as it happens, this work was good, not great, but certainly a notch or two above mediocre. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to do any more of it, not unless I ask you to, which I probably won’t.

Later, the boss reports the subordinate to HR for what she describes as ‘an egregious infraction’. After hardly any due process whatsoever, the Head of HR rules that this is a clear-cut case of gross insubordination. The subordinate is escorted from the premises. He spends the rest of his life embittered and destitute.

***

Colleague A (fake smile): I’m sorry, but I am not at liberty to divulge that information.

Colleague B: But I need that information to do my job.

Colleague A: That’s unfortunate, but I’m afraid my hands are tied.

Colleague B (barely concealed annoyance): Is that so?

Colleague A (frowning): Actually, I’m not sure I like your tone. Now, if that’s all, I need to get back to my work.

Colleague B looks like he is about to say something, but then he gestures with a barely discernible nod that that is all. At which point, Colleague A picks up her phone and resumes scrolling on TikTok or whatever.

Colleague B returns to his cubicle and ponders what to do next. The way he sees things he can either suck it up or he can take matters into his own hands. After assessing various probabilistically weighted counterfactual scenarios, he figures it would be best to suck it up, but for some reason he decides instead to up the ante vis-a-vis Colleague A, which is just like him (he has a long history of doing precisely the opposite of what he thinks he ought to do, like taking this job, for instance, which he had been convinced was beneath him, quite rightly as it turned out).

Colleague B marches over to Colleague A’s cubicle and demands she hand over the information immediately. Colleague A refuses, threatens to get HR involved. Colleague B says be my guest. But Colleague A does not get HR involved, instead she invites Colleague B to step into her cubicle. And close the door behind you, she adds. For a moment, Colleague B hesitates, but then he thinks: why the fuck not. And thus begins the most frenzied sexual encounter of his entire life, which, he later reflects, is more than adequate recompense for Colleague A’s mule-like refusal to hand over the information he needs to do his job.