Friday, 11 December 2009

Silence Is Golden

Ever had one of those moments in life when you walk into a room and just know in your gut that something is just not right?


Such a moment greeted me this morning.

In a sauntered from the mist and drizzle, not exactly full of the joys but certainly in pretty reasonable form, with that "hey it's Friday!" thing going on. I smiled at The Boss and chirped "Morning!", but even as I said it I knew something was amiss.

No greeting was returned, merely an icy stare.

Ohhhh-kaaaaay then.

I stare back. I've got this general-purpose stare that I use in such circumstances, it's more or less a completely blank look, I think. The Boss cracks first :

"You haven't booked Statesville."

Minimalism works for me in these situations.


The Boss : "WHY NOT?"

Here's me : "Because I knew nothing about it."

The Boss : "I told you before I left here on Wednesday morning to book it!"

Here's me : "Firstly, that was yesterday. Thursday morning. Secondly, you said something about 'Lakeville', which is in Minnesota, and mentioned nothing about 'Statesville', which is in North Carolina. I did provisionally book Lakeville."

The Boss is enraged.


Here's me : "Respectfully. Sometimes what you think you're saying and what is actually coming out of your mouth bear very little relation. Sometimes in fact.."

The Boss is now livid and screams at me to interrupt me : "GERRY!"

I must at this juncture advise you, the reader, that my name is not, in fact, Gerry. I remain silent and stare at the mentalist while waiting for her ears and brain to process what has just happened.

Not to be derailed, she storms over to me.

"I saw you write this down as I was saying it! GIVE ME YOUR DIARY!"

It's true. I write in a large A4 desk diary key details from pretty much every conversation I have either in the office or on the phone. It's a handy habit I got into many years ago. She seizes up my diary and flicks to yesterday, where indeed I have written what she actually said, pretty much verbatim. There is an edifying moment when her eyes widen, presumably taking in not only my attention to detail but also just how insane the instructions I have apparently failed to act on were.

So now she is sulking and refusing to talk to me. Which, if I can get past the fact that you could cut the atmosphere in here with a knife, sort of works for me.


  1. Wow. A few more such peeks in your diary and she's going to have a Sixth Sense moment, when she realizes not only do you speak to mentalists . . . but she's one them.

  2. Loving the blog.

    She had the training phone call yet?

  3. "i see mental people"...

    16.00 (GMT) today, the conference call is scheduled for. Be Afraid.

  4. can't wait for the report back on the training call

  5. finally, she's seen proof of her own insanity... but will she believe it? Will her own maladjusted perception of reality buckle under the pressure just enough to admit she was wrong?

    From what I've read so far, I doubt it.
    "UPR. Unique Perception of Reality".

  6. Bloody hell mate, yet again you have my sympathies!

    However, I am reminded of that old saying - Never, ever argue with an idiot, they'll only drag you down to their level, then beat you with experience.

    Anyway - Tis nearly the weekend - time for a beer or two and well deserved unwind.

  7. An ill wind blows old friend, the bell tolls for thee. 16:00 GMT Bring it on


  8. Loving the blog Koala. Your troubles make may day seem that little bit less insane!

    Best of luck with the conf. call.

  9. Good Lawdy! You have the patience of a saint, as soon as she yelled "GERRY!" I'd have been doing the happy dance and asking her to repeat what she had JUST said!

    Ahhh, the patience won in the end though...

  10. Brilliant. To coin a new phrase in honour of your Boss: "saved by your own petard..."

  11. Loving this blog. For Monday you should order one of those "Hello, My name is [insert Gerry]" just to see if she either remembers she called you Gerry or to think its odd and maybe get a laugh out of her.

  12. Genuinely loving your work.


  13. When did 'I love your work' become 'I'm loving your work'? I blame McDonalds.

    What's next... 'I am wanting Silent Koala to punch The Boss in the tits.'

    (yes, I'm a grumpy fuck, but still...)

  14. a possible light bulb moment? one lives in hope...well, not really, because then this blog will become a thing of the past. sorry koala, you have to suffer for yor art...

  15. If you didn't have this blog, you'd probably be in a loony bin.
    If you or the nutcase ever quits, you should forward this to her. (or maybe print it out and hand it to her) God, you are amazing.

  16. Cheers folks! Report will follow shortly :-)

  17. Phew - thought she'd got you for a moment there, I was visualizing little furry marsupial bites all round that bloody bin... ;)

  18. Does anyone else have Koala open in a separate browser window for ease of borderline obsessive refreshing?

    Just me, then. Righto.

  19. @ Anonymous: I do that too.

    My order of checking things when I get to work:
    1) mail, 2) koala, 3) actual work.

  20. This silence is torture - I need a Koala fix!!