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Juicy is using the old shots for her media marketing because, guess what, her clients want Christmas pictures to be Christmassy. The web design guys are using the whiteshots (we always do them too) because the images look crisper. Who the fuck is going to use the unChristmassy Beige shots? Answer � nobody. Another fucking great big waste of time and money which could have been used to bolster my meager salary for something more worthwhile.
I did a training course on Friday. I fucking hate training courses. This one was something to do with managing difficult clients (something I do every sodding day) so I was expecting some kind of moronic buzzwords and instruction on how to smile while talking on the phone. Actually, it was quite useful as it was more about recognizing personality traits in others and creating strategies to deal with those types. I tried it out this afternoon on one particularly irritating fucker from�..oooh�hang on�I�d better not say which particular hedgehog-eating shithole he comes from, in case any of you know him. Lets just say �I Love White� (say it fast, you dolts!). Anyway, instead of my usual �have enough of a sarcastic edge to my voice to amuse my listening-in co-workers but not enough to completely piss the client off�, I tried the stuff they�d told us about on the course and ended up with the client saying �Yeh. Well. Anyway. Thanks. Bye.� Which is a definite improvement on the last time I had (the same) conversation with him, which ended with him threatening to go to the papers. I scoured the headlines for weeks after, but never managed to find �Mental Old Codger Talks Out of His Arse�. Maybe it was in a newspaper that I don�t read. Like the Misinformed Wanker Gazette.
Afterwards, one of the girls in the office who�d done the same course complimented me on how Id handled it, especially as they had all been taking bets on how long it would take me to tell him to fuck off. So. Yay me and my fabulous self control in the face of high-knobheadishness.
Funnily enough, I had a meeting with Toast this afternoon where he asked my opinion, took notice of what I said and ran a few ideas by me to see if I could envisage any problems. He told me that somebody had leaked some information from last weeks retail advisory meeting and that �there will be deaths� when he finds out the source of the leak (it wasn�t me!). He also told me he was about to roast one of our clients who isn�t toeing the party line. I asked him to just hold fire for a while. Within five minutes I was back in his office, on the comfy chairs (comfy, yes. But they make a sound like a huffffffffy fart when you sit down. Puts me in mind of CJs office in Reggie Perrin) with some reports I had run, showing the client to be a total twat and giving Toast just the ammunition he needed to rip into him in that way that only really short men in positions of power can do.
Toast said �Hmmm� and rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. I mimed stroking a white cat on my lap. He laughed. He laughed because he didn�t know I was taking the piss.
Later
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