Dole, anyone?

Dear [office junior],

Thank you for sharing with me your interpretation of your position description. It’s often refreshing to be exposed to another’s perspective. Unfortunately, this was not one of those occasions.

This may come as a surprise to you, and perhaps I am being naive, but when I asked you to fax a document for me, I truly expected you to smile, nod and do it. (Throwing in a ‘yes’, a ‘right away’ or a ‘no problem’ would have added a certain je ne sais quoi but one can’t expect too much for $40k a year – or whatever the hell we pay you).

So, I must admit, I was a smidge taken aback when you said, ‘I didn’t realise sending your faxes was part of my job description.’ In fact I was so surprised by your words and, more especially, by your tone – which, if I am brutally honest, I would have to conservatively call ‘narky’ – that I felt my hands curling in to white knuckled fists and my cheeks flushing with a hue akin to the colour of beetroot. Obviously, we were experiencing a wee glitch in our interchange.

Our teensy miscommunication escalated when I then said ‘excuse me?’ I am sorry. I can see how you might have misinterpreted my words. But, just to clarify, this was not, in fact, an invitation to repeat your previous assertion. Conversely, it was, my attempt to graciously present you with an opportunity to amend your earlier (unintentional, I’m sure) faux pas and reply with a smile, a nod and an appropriate action (faxing my document, for instance). (I think we’ve already covered off the lack of additional je ne sais quoi and the reason for this.)

You certainly can’t have meant to insert your ballet flat so firmly into your pastel-Australis-ed mouth. After all, it wasn’t as if I asked you to fetch me coffee, pick up my dry cleaning or floss my teeth, for heaven’s sake.

In any case, I sincerely apologise if you considered my rapid retrieval of the document from your hand as ‘snatching’ and I certainly didn’t mean for you to overhear any words of displeasure I may have muttered as I walked briskly and purposefully away (did I mention my genetic predisposition towards Tourette’s? Poor me! But we all have our crosses to bear...).

As an understanding and tolerant mentor to younger, less erudite staff, I would have been satisfied to leave matters be once you apologised, albeit succinctly (though you might work on the delivery of your smile, dear – it bore an alarming resemblance to a corpse’s rictus – or possibly a snarling bear’s maw.)

However, I was dreadfully embarrassed to discover that our senior manager somehow, miraculously and completely inadvertantly got wind of our exchange. I simply can’t imagine how that happened!

It’s a terrible shame that she didn’t seem overly refreshed by your perspective on your position description either. Perhaps this sad lack of understanding shared by myself and our learned management is a generational anomaly. (Although I noticed the other office girls of your approximate vintage are giving you a wide berth in the tea room, as though knuckle-raps from senior management may be contagious. Silly, superstitious girls!)

In any case, I wanted to express my commiserations that your probation period may now be truncated and, should this be the case, I do wish you well in your search for more suitable employment (perhaps something more solitary, such as night cleaning or stacking supermarket shelves would be appropriate).

Yours, ever so sincerely,

The Monstress

PS One wonders if it might have been easier just to simply send the damn fax, really, doesn’t one?