Saturday, August 13, 2016

I'm Out at Work

...out of the broom closet, that is. I don't really need to come out of the other closet, although the wonder is that as one of the world's more obvious homosexuals, I am such a c!nt magnet. As the time comes ever closer when I will be away from Zippy my last manager permanently and transferred to the team I was forcibly moved to, I'm settling in and actually feeling a member of the team.
With that comes feeling more at home, and I read the admin manager's tarot cards actually on the premises. Hidden in a back office, of course: I'm never knowingly appropriate but can be discreet when it suits me.
I was joking to a friend that I might even come out as a witch at work. Then the other day found me completing the organisation's LGBT questionnaire with one of the directors breathing down my neck as I did it.
'Don't fill it in bitchily, ' she said, 'i don't want to end up with an action plan because of anything you've done. '
'I will fill it in honestly, ' said I.
The first snag was where it wanted to know my religion. I put Witchcraft.
'Will you stop taking the fucking piss,' said the aforementioned director of the organisation I work for.
'I'm not taking the fucking piss, ' I said.
Since the whole office was now involved in my LGBT satisfaction questionnaire, somebody suggested that I put Wicca. So I did.
It's just my luck. I go around dressed in deepest black, am continually surrounded by controversy, then when I actually come out of the broom closet, people don't believe me.
What else can I do?
Actually I love that director dearly. It does look as if I'm going to get a warning as a result of the complaints about me by my enemies, but that is something to relish. The opposition have scored one point only. I have exposed two of the most sociopathic colleagues, forced their cronies to show what they're about, shown up Zippy's lack of management, managed to move to a great team, which works closely with the police (I'll admit, he forced me to kiss him on the cheek, but obviously it didn’t take much force), am in line for a promotion, have obliged my erstwhile colleagues to do some work because of my absence. I reckon that's a score of eight to start off with. Plus I know for a fact that Zippy has been crying in her office, and that is priceless. And if my former colleagues think they've caused me any inconvenience, I now have online access to every team in the organisation and can see at a glance that their turnover is too small to sustain them, so it's only a matter of time before the plug is pulled on them.
As a friend put it, in an incredibly envious voice, 'You've fallen on your feet again. '


  1. "You've fallen on your feet again." - Perhaps that's why many of our number like cats?

    Well, it all sounds good. Especially the arduous task of kissing men in uniform!


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