19 December 2014


There are a few instances when you feel like you want to punch every other person in your immediate vicinity. That feeling that you get when every word escaping from the mouth of a person, or few persons, annoyed the hell out of you and that the atmosphere built from their toxic words is stuffed with negative vibes. 
That’s how the meetings in my workplace went. There are shouts, there are real life confrontations, there are emotional outbursts, and even mourning. It’s just like a battlefield, except that you don’t get real bullets to shoot back. And there’s no escape until you take every single bullet left. 
Now let’s look into the characters of the war story. There’s my manager, who would present our works to our client. A 6-ft tall man of only 32 but looks a few years younger with a well composed; no-nonsense attitude. And then there’s the chairperson, who serves as the buffer between us and our clients, whom most of the time magnifies the attacks from the clients and hurls them back at us and more often than not, making situation looks worse than it is. Then our clients, which were made up from 7 different agencies. And then there are us behind our manager’s back, a team of service providers, timidly hiding figuratively behind the desk. 
The attacks began once the meetings started. You would be very surprised to see how much hatred can be emitted from a person, like there’s an infinity amount of negative energy can be released from a relatively small source. 
Once the attacks begun, the chairperson would direct the bullets to us, after conveniently amplifying the magnitude of the attacks. Hurtful words after hurtful words – I even begin to wonder either they are looking for solutions or they’re simply looking for an outlet to vent their anger. 
Being the youngest in the meeting, every single word they uttered make me lose bit by bit of respect to them. The attacks were sharp, senseless; borderline insane that they’d make the Predator looks like My Little Pony in comparison. What’s even worse, the attacks were based on untrue allegations and hearsays, which made it harder for us to counter. Metaphorically, it’s like wrestling with a ghost. You can choose to fight a non-existing entity, and you can choose to remain silent, close your ears and say that ghosts are not real. But both ways, being in a such ridiculous circumstance, you’re the stupid anyway, so why bother? 
Worst of it all, you feel trapped by those clowns. There is no way you could save your ass and run away and now with the time passing, you’re pretty sure your IQ is dropping by 1 score per minute just by hearing their stupidity. You kept staring straight into their eyes, for now you are angry yourself. Nobody was seeking for solutions or assurance, they were just looking for somebody to blame and ultimately, the punching bag they can collectively kick and punish. 
You were expecting divine intervention. A meteor shower attacking this particular building, a Red Wedding style mass murder, and you had mentally slit the people’s throat a thousand times, run a knife through their hearts millions more, again and again. That’s the only way you could make this whole commotion enjoyable, if not tolerable. 
After 3 hours straight of torture and there are no things left to be mad at, they’ll remind us that there are food. Waaaaa! So now everybody can forgive and forget and feed, and take another month hiatus to accumulate their stress so they could lash it out on next month’s meeting. At this point, I began to think that the food was reminder that we should not talk shit too much. Just imagine what would happen if there was no food at all. Perhaps they would spew more shit until there is nothing else but shit to the ceiling. 
I wonder how come a sane man doesn’t go insane after attending a few sessions of these meetings. Then again, like they say, either you die a hero, or you’ll live long enough to be the villain. I suspect after a certain amount of such sessions attended, they’ll end up being the bad guy altogether. It’s a win-win situation by the way. Now everybody’s a villain, so yeah!  
This whole idiocy reminds me of those meetings in university which would last till the wee hours in the morning. Come to think of it, the meetings were downright pointless. And even if it isn’t, the length of the meetings is simply crazy. I suspect some of the meetings committee enjoyed to torture us in the meetings so much they refuse to end them early. 
There were talk, nag, talk, nag. Then the classic blame game. Who’s at fault for doing this? Who should we blame for that mistake? There were no real solutions, only people talking nonsense, prolonging and delaying the time until we could not have enough sleep for tomorrow’s classes.
In my mind, I’ve killed them million times already. With bombs, with knives to the belly, throat, eyes, with arrows straight to the center of their forehead. 

With every hour passing, my imagination grew more brutal and gruesome and gory, and it is the only way I know to make the meetings tolerable. 
I thought the meetings at work would be handled with professional manners. Turns out the people in the meetings were the same people in university, only now they have graduated to a higher level of douchebaggery. They have wider range of vocabulary now though. ‘Work order’, ‘permit to work’, ‘non conformance report’ yada yada yada. Maybe they thought it makes the meeting professional by using the bombastic words, but they were nothing more than sparrows masquerading as eagles. It does not make them classy or professional just by sounding so. 
I do not imply that meetings should be stress free. It should not, because then only people know that we’re serious. But attempting a full blast attacks which are based on lies are pathetic and despicable, and none of us ending up happy after the torturous session except you ugly mad men (and women, of course). 
The problems can be solved without having us to sit to talk about it for hours. We can be productive and efficient, 30 minutes meeting is enough if you appreciate your time as much as I appreciate mine.
With that, I think I’ll watch more torture videos on the internet for my therapy. And while that drill is puncturing the skull of the poor guy in the video, I’ll just imagine its yours instead.

No comments:
Write curses

Hey, we've just launched a new custom color Blogger template. You'll like it - https://t.co/quGl87I2PZ
Join Our Newsletter