Let’s face it, office life can be a bit dull. Times have changed and with a new more rigorous business culture you can’t even get pissed at lunchtime and photocopy your boobs anymore without some wet blanket reporting you for ink wastage.
So just imagine if a really hot guy worked in your office. Tall, strong, sexy and blatantly Scottish, he’ll make you want to feed him shortbread fingers while he sings to you about Braveheart.
Smart in his lovely suit, but with a hint of leather loincloth underneath, and who disappears every lunchtime for You Know What. (To kill a dragon! Honestly what did you think I meant.)
WHAT IF GERARD BUTLER WORKED IN YOUR OFFICE?
I don’t work in an office any more – yes, it turned out my greatest strengths were indeed my greatest weaknesses.
But if Gerard Butler was my team leader I know I’d want a daily thought-shower with the man himself before running an idea up his flagpole.
1. There’s No “I” In Team!
Because then it would be spelt Teami, or iTeam. Yes it’s appraisal time in the office. When you shouldn’t find out anything new, except that your boss thinks you’re shit and withholds your £3.42 bonus.
You’ll probably be given some tricky goals for the coming year and I really would suggest you re-read those, perhaps 5 minutes before your next appraisal.
Do they still do 360-degree appraisals? Where everyone in the team anonymously tells you you’re shit and they start a Change.org petition for you to lose your £3.42 bonus?
2. Let’s Go To The Lake District, Get Hypothermia And Die. I Mean Cry
Ah, teambuilding. Or as I like to call it, hell on earth (or filthy river water, or hot coals).
And I’m someone who likes the Lake District.
Just not while sitting on a homemade raft constructed from three mismatched barrels, a frayed rope and Glenda from Accounts. (Keep her face-upwards and she won’t drown.)
Teambuilding is very easy to do in a nice warm pub with a roaring fire, a bottle of red wine and a scampi sharing basket. No one actually needs to risk death, social or otherwise.
My old boss once arranged a team building exercise for six of us involving driving, despite the fact that one had never been behind the wheel before and one didn’t know left from right (actually both of those were me).
Luckily I’ve never been asked to walk over hot coals, though to be fair I’m a mum now and it can’t be any worse than stepping on Lego in bare feet.
3. That “Oh Fuck” Moment
We’ve all done it. Something really stupid at work that could mean big trouble.
Usually it involves a printer on the directors’ floor and on the other side of several locked doors. Or sending an email about the manager you were bitching about to the manager you were bitching about.
Or sabotaging the whole IT system / stealing everyone’s wages though those are too serious for this joke article so let’s stick to printers.
4. You’re Oppressing Me!
Sorry but as a woman I am oppressed so if you are a man it is actually IMPOSSIBLE for me to be sexist towards you.
Trust me, I’ve tried.
And if you will wear those tight suits and wiggle that cute ass Mr Butler, you only have yourself to blame.
Now, how’s that cup of coffee coming along Gerry, I’m gasping.
5. Coffee Cup Wars. I Mean Woes
You use my coffee cup, you die.
Either from the mould growing up the inside or because I will kill you.
Also don’t even think about rifling through all those weird teabag boxes in the kitchen cupboard. You WILL offend someone who left eight years ago when she comes to collect them, oh any day now.
Besides, they taste vile and are only good for scenting your knicker drawer (the fruity ones not PG Tips).
The season of goodwill except at the Daily Mail which is full of articles about how you can’t say Christmas so their readers spend the whole time talking about how they can’t say Christmas anymore while saying Christmas quite a lot.
Then there’s a Works Christmas meal where the Office Boring Person comes into their own because they are happy to work out everyone’s bill for dinner even though three people had starters, eight people had a pudding, the low-carber commandeered the bread basket and one person somehow didn’t pay at all (there is ALWAYS one and it’d never me. I am clearly missing a trick).
But best of all, it’s SECRET SANTA TIME! With a price limit of £10, or £5 if you’re the CEO and we all know you keep the receipt and claim it back later.
Where everyone picks a colleague’s name out of a hat and buys them a Christmas present which most accurately clarifies to the recipient that the giver doesn’t actually know anything about them even after 15 years at adjacent desks.
But someone always spends too much on the person they secretly love. A work friend and I once exchanged Christmas gifts and he got me a beautifully wrapped pearl necklace (NOT THAT KIND) and I got him a card game called Snog. I think he cried, especially when I refused to promote him.