Sunday, 11 March 2007

Dreadlocks and hemp suits, or the lack thereof

Here we go: following Rotten's advice. As I recall, I mentioned the possibility of reporting back on last week's job interview at the Ministry for the .... This reportage comes at some risk, as I never know just how much monitoring of my Internet usage is going on in our IT unit at work, but given that the team is tiny and that it's actually that I'm logged onto for the entire day every working day at the moment while the cricket world cup is on, I guess the risk is minimal. I was only momentarily rattled the other day during an 'efficiency and productivity' meeting of all national managers when the IT general manager suggested that unproductive work time could be nipped in the bud by policing staff Internet usage. My loud guffaw at that proposal blew my cover a bit, but I've been camouflaging my trail since then with what could be interpreted as work-related Internet viewing.

Right, back to the story. You'd think, wouldn't you, that government employees working for an environment agency would be the deepest green dreadlock, hemp suit and biodegradeable loincloth-wearing types. But no, when I showed up for my chat with the Senior Manager, .... Reporting, I was met by three rather severe-looking middle-aged dames, who, while not exactly power dressers, were nonetheless notable for their boutique clothes-horse look that only a $150,000+ salary and merchant banking husband/'partner' could afford. Just as well then that I'd dusted off the only raggedy tie that I had buried at the back of one of my drawers.

At the very least, they didn't hit me with any of the usual half-wit HR questions, like 'Tell us what your strongest and weakest attributes are' or 'How would your colleagues describe you?' It's at moments like that that I wish I'd introduced myself along the lines of: 'I'm interested in chess, masturbation and strangling small furry animals, except I don't have so much time for chess these days.' So, the interview went quite well and I remembered not to look down each time I told an outright lie, which apparently is a dead giveaway. Fluttered my eyelashes a bit too much though, as I forgot that I'm now just about the same age as middle-aged people. Tried not to be too irreverent also, which can lead to the impression that I never take anything seriously, which is actually not far off the mark. Truth be told, I'd really like to get this job, as the environment is about the only thing that sparks any interest in me work-wise. This may not have been overly appreciated in that efficiency meeting the other day when my solitary contribution to the debate was the suggestion that each staff member be issued with a chamber pot for defecating into to ensure not only that people stay at their work stations longer and don't skiv off, but also so that we can compost that valuable human waste (albeit only if all employees are encouraged by the CEO to become vegetarian).

Anyhow, I'll find out how I got on sometime mid-week. Will be ostensibly working in Whangarei and Auckland on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday though, so I this could potentially be the last post for a few days.


Rotten said...

Good one, Kivak. Next time one of these government types asks you about what gets you excited about public service be sure to tell them: "I was greatly inspired when I first came across George Orwell's horrifying vision of the future as a jackboot stomping on a human face forever...I want to be wearing that jackboot."

As for my alleged Tourette's syndrome, motherfucker: the word that got my e-mail locked down in the Gray Bar Hotel by the Mail Marshall? "Wank." Not exactly premiership profanity. And don't give me that shit about how you're supposed to be all clever and sly and shit and substitute something like "VVank." VVank... A$$hole...phanny...dooshbagg...real professional...sure to conserve LOTS of time at the office, boost those productivity better use of time than highly educated professionals burning billable hours thinking up homophones for their favorite barnyard expressions...kivak I want you to find whoever installed that brownshirt program and you tell that cum-guzzling queen that his facination with dirty words is disconcerting in the extreme, and don't forget to remind him that I got his mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm...

Other than that, good luck with the interview.


Kivak said...

Cum-guzzling queen, mmmmmm...I'll be sure to use that one next time I'm chatting with our Indian IT supremo. I anticipate a bit of a cultural language barrier there though, so I might have to use a bit of body language to make myself fully understood.

Rotten said...

"Cum-guzzling queen, mmmmmm..."

Is that supposed to be the Homer Simpson/donuts noise?

Kivak said...

Doh! You nailed my ass, Inspector Rotten. Don't tell a soul.