Chained to a desk: stories about being employed

A call centre position

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Sitting behind a desk, tired and worn out. Imagine, every day some asshole calls me up with an entitlement mentality, trying to get something from me. They want their phone bill for free this month. They want the extra charges taken off because they never read the contract. Once a woman called up and started the conversation with the words "Hi, I'm a rape victim," in an attempt to get a free premium phone number, one with triples and doubles.

Or worse - a nice person calls up and makes a perfectly reasonable request - but nobody, not me, nor anybody in my support team, not my boss, knows how to fulfill that request, and my subject matter effort tells me to palm it off to another department so they can handle it.

That is the kind of toxic environment that makes people violent.

One day I saw one of the supervisors come out looking very distressed. Immediately i could smell something was up.

We're told to get off the phones and take the elevator up to floor twelve. They sit us all down on the floor and ask how we are.

Then... "We regret to inform you that ..."

The contract with the telco had ended, and I was ecstatic. I tried to hide my smile for the benefit of all the people there who were so dedicated to the project that they cried. Having that job end was among the top 5 happiest days of my life.

Of course, I could have quit at any time, but having a job like that can make you forget your ambition.

The boss

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The boss sits in his office on the 31st floor and looks out across the city. The clear blue sky stretches out towards the horizon. Up here, it feels like he is above the clouds. Down there, the poor souls toil away, little people moving around in their little lives.

"I built this," he says, forgetting all the people who helped him along the way. "I built this," he affirms, neglecting the protectionism which prevented others from building similar towers.

He feels the floor shake a little bit underneath him. "It's just the wind," he says. It shakes a little more, then stops. "Hm... I guess there was an earthquake." He is so high up, that he has no idea that far below him, there are dwarves sawing through the columns at the ground level. He will keep justifying until they saw right through, and his tower collapses.

Rae, and Byron Bay

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«Hey, I'm in Newcastle. Can I crash at your place tonight?»

"Sure."

She checked the timetable, and said she'd be in around midnight. She missed two trains, and arrived around 3. We walked back to my parents' place. We spooned for a while. She slept in the bottom bunk, and me in the top.

In the morning, she asked what I do with my days. I told her I was selling insurance, working about 8 hours a day.

«I just don't get how people can live like that. What happens if you wake up one morning and you just don't feel like going to work that day?»

"I guess you sort of... force yourself. Grit your teeth and bear it, because that's what you've said you're gonna do."

«I can't imagine anything worse.»

She took the train for Byron Bay that day. I saw her off at the train station. I lent her $100 to cover the train ticket, not entirely sure if I would ever see the money again. I told her to send it by money order.

«You should come,» she said. «I'll probably be there for a while.» I have to work, I thought.

I should have gone. Not that I loved her, not that it was ever going to be anything serious. But she was offering me a ticket to another world, where what's important looks very different. Can you imagine what a beach looks like after sitting in an office for so long? How it feels? As the water licks your feet, you can sit and wonder: What do the waves mean?

Three weeks later, I received a small package. It was a ratty second-hand book on botany. The note said that she had arrived at Byron Bay, with no place to stay, and no money, so naturally she slept on the beach. In the middle of the book was a fresh, green $100 note.

Shingles, or, making the best of a bad situation

It was a few days after David had returned from his sick leave. In his hand was a collection of papers. He calmly walked over to Melissa and said "Hey, I need to talk to you about something important, and rather private. Can I talk to you in your office about it?"

«Ah... yes. Just give me five minutes.»

"Not a problem."

Melissa walked in and Dave was sitting near her desk.

"How's it going," he said. She sat down.

«What's all this about, David?»

"Firstly, I'd like to say that I enjoy working here. It's a good work environment. The customers are great."

«I'm glad.»

"But there are a few concerns which I need to address.

"I've got something here that I wanted to show you. As you know, I had to take a week off because of illness."

«Yes.»

"The illness, more specifically, was shingles."

«I don't really see what this has to do -»

"Please, hear me out. This is important.

"Shingles is not a common disease for someone to get at this stage of life. In fact, the doctor said that it is very unusual for someone my age to get shingles, unless, of course, I was under intense psychological stress. You can see that the good doctor has taken the liberty of writing it down here."

«That would be... ah.» The penny dropped. An employer has a duty of care for their employees, so they're liable for what happens at work. If an employee became ill because of his work, that would make her... She was unable to speak.

"Now, as I said, I enjoy working here. My workmates are great - friendly and supportive. The customers are almost always polite. But of course, there is one problem.

"You never come over to us to say hello, or ask how we're going in the mornings. We know that, invariably, when you come to talk to us, it's because of bad news - and not bad news presented with a positive, motivational spin. Not something that would illustrate a simple plan on which we could initiate action immediately. It's more like the news is presented in a way to maximise fear and disorientation. Would you like to work in an environment like that?"

«I... uh...»

"It's tough to work in an environment where you constantly feel like you're being watched."

They finished the conversation. Later, Dave walked into the lunchroom.

«Something strange is going on,» said a colleague

"What do you mean?"

«We were standing there having our morning coffee. Melissa came up and asked us how we were going. We were so weirded out, we didn't know what to say.»

Dave smiled on the inside.

Epilogue

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They want you to believe that you need them, but you don't. Though the more competent you are, the freer you feel, the less weight on your soul, and the more aware that you don't need them, the harder certain bosses will try to make it for you.

They can't stand to see someone doing well, someone who has his own rhythm. They will harass you, attempt to intimidate you, and try to make you crack.

You can always walk away.

The future is bright for independent minds.

Be who you want to be.

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