What a Way to Make a Living

The weekend is here. It’s a chance to forget about the drudgery of 9-5, or whichever hours you work, assuming that only Dolly Parton still adheres to that particular employment regime.

Perhaps you want to banish thoughts of all forms of work from your mind? I know I do.

Without going into too much detail about my boss - let’s call him “Toby” - I bet he’s a bigger bastard than your boss.

For instance, has your boss ever criticised you in any of the following ways?

-         “Do you know anything at all?”

-         “You don’t do it like that. Are you simple?”

-         “Stevie Wonder could do that better than you”

And the all-time winner:

-         “You’re doing it like a gay”

I hope you could answer “no” to all of the above.

This is the kind of thing I’m regularly subjected to. It’s apparently “banter” though, so it’s ok. Even though it’s not. Far from it.

My response of “you’re lucky I’ve never punched you in the face, you offensive prick” was probably not as close to being politically correct as I might have liked.

The put-downs aren’t the worst part of it though.

Toby regularly likes to have political discussions. This involves him telling me his opinion - usually a far-right one - and then shooting down everything I say in return.

Things I’ve learned from him as being supposed fact are:

-         Labour are actually communists and were funded in the 1980s by the KGB

-         UKIP are the only party who speak for the people

-         Success in this country is frowned upon by the left and the Conservatives are doing the right thing in rewarding the rich and persecuting the poor

-         All immigrants are scum, but the British can go and live in any country they choose

This is just a snapshot of the kind of nonsense I’m forced to listen to each day.

It’s not all bad though. Toby regularly puts music on for my entertainment while I work. He has quite an eclectic taste.

Everything from hip-hop to punk to house to ska has been played at a volume that would make a NASA launch site sound quiet.

One day he thought he’d surprise me and make himself look sophisticated by playing some classical music.

It was being played at the usual high volume, when suddenly it was faded out.

Toby yelled at the top of his voice before turning the music right back up again: “I FUCKING LOVE MOZART, ME.”

Very sophisticated.