Source of the Bile
Things aren’t the same in the Call Centre. I think it was that great man of English letters, John Prescott, who said that when the tectonic plates start to shift, everyone moves into their position.
Steadily, over the past few months, Bernard has been moulding the office into his own image, and his vision of a pre-cog Call Centre that’s dynamic, proactive and all those other things he reams off at away days, is slowly coming to pass and everyone is running for cover.
Ian and Brenda used to rule the roost around here but the introduction of Martin and his innovations: “in my last place we used to…. (Fill in the blank)” has knocked them off top spot. I’m sure that Bernard thinks he jogs across the river to work.
I’m sure that he’s has made up the concept of ‘insourcing’ to cover his tracks. We have exhausted the local job market and to avoid recycling the dregs of unemployed, Bernard has contacted Quandix to ‘insource’ staff.
It’s not clear how they manage to get the people that the Call Centre cannot reach, but it appears that they are willing to wallow deeper in the local gene pool for their staff than our lot will go.
Heads turned when their crew shuffled in behind Outspan and Johnny Knucklehead. It was as if a chain linked them as they snaked through the cubicles, gorping at my team, while they sneered back.
There’s been a turf war breaking out over the past week so I’ve been keeping my head down. It’s the most dramatic event since SMAGELL and her legion of undead started hot-desking with my team in the evening.
I’ve put a label on my calculator … just in case.