A Work Pizza Lunch

And then there was the pizza. It was on the table, next to the soft drink. No-one ever supplies beer at these things, he thought. But he said nothing. He waited. They all waited. There were several types of pizza, all mocking the original intention of the pizza inventors from Napoli, and the culture that infused their creation, and the fishermen who encouraged its creation, and ate it. No, pizza isn’t often some cheese, some oregano, some tomato, and maybe – if you’re like some of us, and it’s your unlucky day – an anchovy. Instead it’s all meat and more meat and different meat and meat sauce, and crusts filled with molten, very poor quality cheese, and it’s shiny and thick rather being a little bit dull, having come out of an oven, with burnt bits, a few of them, and a bit limp. That’s at the pizza chains anyway. You need to go to those independent pizzerias for proper pizza. Now you do, anyway. Maybe you have always had to go to them, all along. He thought all this as colleagues set out plastic cups and paper towels on the table, and the slightly rotund bloke from England who was wearing boat shoes positioned himself at the end of the room, ready to deliver his spiel, fidgeting and consulting with IT professionals who could barely connect one cord to another and get a mouse working.

Slouching employees jostled for position, in order to claim a couple of triangles of disgrace to Neapolitan culture, and some filled a plastic receptacle with brightly fizzing sugar water – they knew the talking was about to begin. The Australian manager had signalled as much by saying something like: “OK guys, we’re going to have a powwow now, grab a slice and we’ll listen to what Todd has to say.” That wasn’t what he said. Well, not exactly. He found it difficult to listen to vacuous people saying vacuous things, so he chose not to. He had a feel for it though.

Smiles were too big, too forced, as worn by the management team, and resigned expressions dominated the rest of the employees. They knew. He knew.

The English bloke started talking. He used words like synergies, and leverage, and, and efficiency.

It was over. Those who would keep their jobs would be those who would beg for them. That wouldn’t happen in his case, He wouldn’t be begging. But he wouldn’t be eating proper pizza any time soon either.

Published in: on March 8, 2011 at 7:31 pm  Leave a Comment  

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