Every workplace has its villain. Ours was Janet.
Janet wasn’t just unpopular; she was a full-time dispenser of misery. She strutted around with this pig-headed arrogance, convinced she was management material when in reality she was just management’s headache. If something went wrong — and it usually did — it was never her fault. She’d just turn on the waterworks, mutter something about “pressure,” and somehow make herself the victim. Classic Janet.
Then came the masterstroke: she got her husband, Dave, a job with us.
Now, Dave was a wagon driver — but not just any wagon driver. He was a connoisseur of lay-bys. To him, the open road wasn’t about destinations or deadlines. No, it was about spotting that perfect patch of tarmac where he could pull over, recline the seat, and lose three hours in blissful slumber. If you were looking for Dave, you wouldn’t find him at the depot, you wouldn’t find him on schedule — you’d find him halfway up the A55, parked in a lay-by, surrounded by crisp packets and the faint hum of Radio 2.
Janet and Dave together were a double-act of dysfunction. She’d storm about the office, belittling anyone within range, while he perfected the art of doing bugger-all in scenic roadside locations. Bonnie and Clyde, if Bonnie wore cheap perfume and Clyde was welded to a cab seat.
The rest of us could only watch in disbelief. She thrived on creating chaos, he thrived on avoiding work, and somehow the pair of them managed to make life harder for everyone else. She’d stir things up inside the building, he’d grind operations to a halt outside it. A real tag team of torment.
Still, in a way, they were unforgettable. If you’ve ever seen a wagon parked smugly in a lay-by for the fifth time that week, you’ve seen Dave’s true genius. And if you’ve ever had your day ruined by someone pretending to be your superior while actually knowing less than you do, you’ve met your own Janet.
We carried on, grumbling, laughing bitterly, and praying for retirement. Because, in the end, the one thing Janet and Dave gave us — apart from ulcers — was a shared enemy. And in an office like ours, that was almost worth it.
