Dear HR,
We’re all no doubt aware, after years of David Attenborough documentaries on the natural world, of the behaviour of predators in the wild. How often have we seen images of the ‘Big Cats’ hiding in the long grass, patiently waiting for their prey to drop their guard even for a minute only to strike.
I wish this was limited to the animal kingdom, but today the harsh reality of the corporate jungle once more reared its ugly head, exposing the sordid underbelly of the hyper sexualised harassing culture that pervades life in TechReCorp.
Now I can recognise that after my extensive travel over the summer to far flung climes that the air of mystique I normally exude has been dramatically magnified. Indeed my numerous conversations on my explorations of ground zero of ‘Ancient Alien’ theory has no doubt created a patina of academic depth that modesty prevents me from easily accepting. But despite all this, it is not licence for those of a lower moral grounding to reinitiate their programme of subtle, and not so subtle, harassment.
Let me explain today’s goings on. As I arrived into the office this morning – conveyed on my carbon neutral preferred mode of transport – I happened across Ms. Goodman. Now I’m not suggesting that she was in any way waiting for my arrival, but suspiciously she was investigating an empty shower area outside of the TechReCorp office area, holding open the normally secure door. ‘You should take this one’ she suggested – under normal circumstances innocent enough, but of course given her track record, I was immediately nervous. Then, and again you might think coincidence but I would argue to the contrary, the door to shower room with the compromised lock suddenly opened – ‘No’ she exclaimed, ‘use this one’.
Well you can imagine it was a suggestion dripping with venom, I had sudden images of the Child Catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang offering ‘lovely goodies’ to the children. Had I been less guarded, I could have found myself caught in the trap – honestly I was terrified, frozen to the spot. Thankfully at that very moment the final shower room door opened from where Ivan emerged, much to the delight of my nemesis.
‘I’ll take this one’ she said.
It was like a scene from ‘IT’.
I nearly rang home to settle my nerves, but since they’ve announced the Downton Abbey movie Delilah has been hitting the Sherry a little harder than one would like, and earlier in the day – by about lunch time she’s shouting abuse that ‘That Bitch Mary’ and making vague allusions to Hugh Bonneville – ‘He’sh come a long way since that failed restaurant’ – she often gets Notting Hill confused in that way, but I’ve learned to just let it go – I do make a point of hiding the opiates though, codeine and sherry doesn’t lead to good outcomes for her.
So once more I find myself cowering at my desk, jumping at the slightest thing.
When will this end?
Regards,
Alexander
Dear HR 