Jez & Maggsy – The Office Friend

They’ve had a major reorganisation at work and that means they’ve moved my desk, and I don’t like it.

Where I was before was really good. I was near a window, and although I could only see another business building from where I sat, if I leaned over the computer screen and kind of twisted my neck – I hurt myself doing this once – and looked back at an angle I could catch a glimpse of the park where I sometimes meet my boyfriend at lunchtime. You know, the park – the big one, with the fountain and the homeless men playing chess and the breezes on a warm day – that one. So, not much of a view then … not really. But you could look down at the street, if you stood up and leaned a bit, and you could see what was going on down there. The weaving couriers on bikes and the legal clerks wheeling trolleys and cars tooting at each other. It was good to think of a world outside and beyond what you were doing and to see the activity which would be happening whether you were working a spreadsheet for the finance department or not.

I hate finance. Those people are such dicks and the work is so boring.

Anyway, my old chair was next to Cressida, who has been at the company longer than anyone and I really got on well with her. Sometimes I would bring her a chocolate or she would bring me a piece of fruit or offer me a biscuit if she’d made some at home and brought a few in. Cressida told me about her husband Steve and her kids and you could always ask her advice about anything really. Work and relationships and all sorts of things. She gave me advice about my tax return once and all of her suggestions were good. I got a lot of money back that year. There’s this way she has where she doesn’t seem to be giving you advice even though she is. She’s gentle. But she’s got a filthy sense of humour too. Once she told me a joke about a plumber and a nun which I haven’t told anyone, despite knowing that my boyfriend would love it, as it seems a bit wrong somehow to have to explain that a woman in her mid-sixties who has just become a granny told it to me. Actually my boyfriend would probably want to meet her if I told him, and I didn’t feel good about that idea. It’s because Cressida is my friend, I suppose, and I didn’t want to share her. But now we’ve been separated, like a pair of naughty kids at school.

Now I sit in a group of younger women who gossip about silly things and listen to their crap music as they type up letters and things and it’s really hard to concentrate on my spreadsheets and proofread what I have to proofread. And there’s no view. And Cressida is on a different floor, or maybe she’s been transferred to the other building – it’s a split office – but I haven’t seen her for days and I miss her. I miss her long bright red nails and her nicotine stained fingers and the wise words which came out of her potty mouth.

Published in: on March 10, 2014 at 7:14 pm  Leave a Comment  

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