When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get a White Chocolate Chip Cookie

A long time ago, when I was young, strong willed and, if I'm honest, a bit of a dick, I would take to the moral high ground in my bid to do the right thing.  I paid scant regard for the threat of violence, tact or diplomacy as I crusaded for what I felt was the right reasons.  As my peers and superiors seethed at my exposure of their weaknesses and incompetence, I blundered on until silenced by the sight of my colleagues falling asleep or the unreasonable command of my superiors to 'take it offline'.

In my early days, of course, taking things offline would have made no sense at all, I grew up in the age of rented TVs, fixed landlines and using my imagination when playing games (quite a bit of fun too).  It used to be 'we shall discuss this later', which was their way of saying 'you twat, stand by for a shoeing'.  How I managed to avoid beatings in my youth I do not know.

Age has mellowed me somewhat and now when I come across people who are unwilling to listen to reason, be they peers or superiors, I calmly set out my case and take an objective look at the issues when finding a solution.  When I am subsequently browbeaten into submission, as is often the case, I then have to resort to alternative action.  It is often not helpful to express what is inevitably swirling around in your mind and the strong desire to go back to the schoolyard and shout 'don't come running to me when it all ends in tears!', or other words to that effect, will not ease the frustration.  It is at this point that I have learned that it is better to walk away, away to the nearest purveyor of white chocolate chip cookies and gain solace in those. 

Often grumbling unintelligibly as you pass by innocent colleagues on your way to the coffee shop.  It is an unfortunate error of judgement that one of them, especially the older ones, will ask politely and unsuspectingly, 'hi, everything good?' 

Oh dear,  as their smile vanishes when you answer truthfully that no, things are not good.  They desperately look for cover and hope someone calls them on their mobile, passing staff get rolled in as the original colleague begs them (it's in their eyes) to rescue them.  Before you know it you have a rebellion as sympathisers come out on your side and readily acknowledge the shortfalls of the offending person.  I tend to ask if people would like the truth when I am in cookie mode, that way they have the choice of not listening to Eeyore and then trying to slash their wrists later on.

There are times when a cookie is not enough and I have two other levels of food sulk, bag of liquorish allsorts and packet of wagon wheels.  Often though one must make do with what is available and it is like being in the Sahara without water when the shops are closed and you have no change for the vending machine.  If you are like me the vending machine eats your money anyway and give you nothing in return, technically a breach of contract, but in reality it is an extension of the offending person rubbing in your being placed firmly and securely in your box.

I don't like being in boxes, not because I am claustrophobic, but because my best thinking is done outside the box (did you like that?).  I am an optimist at heart and I often recover by putting myself in the shoes of others, quite tricky if they are deep sea diving boots or stilettos for that matter.  Still I try to understand and accept that I cannot control or influence everything that goes on.  Persistent twats are another story, but then that is why we have Mr Kipling.

One of the things I have become quite adept at is recognising when my colleagues and peers are facing the same tensions.  Recognition, coffee and listening is often the best way of bringing them back down, being careful to keep them away from bottles, staplers or any other potential weapons that might be lying around.  It is critical to avoid sarcasm at the early stages when approaching your colleague on the ceiling, they might well strike out in reflex and it is difficult to explain a split lip to the wife when you get home.

If it all gets too much then a large creamy trifle is probably best, this is not for you, but for the offending person.  The idea being to locate the said trifle centred on the face and delivered with insane laughter and a twitching eye.  Unfortunately and probably for the best, trifles are rare items indeed in these environments unless of course there is a staff party going on nearby.  In the absence of trifle I recommend comedy from a range of well known stand up comedians or indeed a spot of writing.