The Crossdresser's Workplace Phrasebook.

Part 4

I'd just got in from a heavy night out with the boys from the water utility company, where we'd talked at length about the local dykes. I should explain, my agency looks after the accounts of the water utility, and their marketing team are quite social. Needless to say they account for considerable proportion of my expense claims every month, but being a large and lucrative account this is rarely questioned.

There's a prodigious mining sector in the west of Canada, and many of the companies have their head office in Vancouver. As a result we have several clients in that sector, and I look after the public relations for one of the major players. I entered my office to find a printout of one of their latest draft press releases on my desk. It was something about the new mining operations in the deep levels of one of the gold mines. I scanned it quickly and then buzzed Julie, my executive assistant. I'm not allowed to call her my secretary, I'm told.

"Julie," I said into the intercom. "Can you just reword the quote in the second paragraph. "I was so impressed by the shaft that I went down four times," might be open to misinterpretation."

I paused for a moment, then said, "On second thoughts leave it in."

These deep level mines are a lot less fun than they sound. It's good to throw the investors a bone now and then, I suppose.

I turned my attention to the job of annoying Brenda, the human resources manager. I was about to draft a short memo explaining that she'd be expected to provide a police security check before completion of her probationary period. Sure to take a week or two, it would likely push her a step or two closer to the cliff edge.

I do feel that on one's way up the corporate ladder, one is rather obliged to stand on the shoulders of those that came before. And while doing so to give them a good kick in the ear. I'm sort of old fashioned that way.

Unfortunately I do sometimes feel that at this advertising agency someone kicked over the corporate ladder and we're all a bit disorientated. The corporate vision appears to be something the senior staff dreamed up after a long weekend on magic mushrooms during one of their many retreats.

Some of you who have followed me for a while will know that one of my close friends is our photographer, Bernard. He's very devoted and has had many sessions with me. I know what you're thinking, and you are completely wrong. As much as Bernard would like it to be otherwise, I don't think his heart would hold out. After that I don't think he needs the additional stress. Besides, he's not really my type.

I only say this because at that moment who should stop by my new office. It was none other than the photographer in question, staring at a handful of papers with a confused look on his face.

"What brings you to the posh side of the office," I asked.

"What the hell does this mean?" asked Bernard.

He held out the letter, and I scanned it quickly. I could see it was a reference for someone who'd applied for a vacancy in Bernards' department.

"Well, it seems obvious to me. It's a letter telling you not to touch this person with a barge pole."

"How do you get that," he asked innocently.

"You see here," I said, indicating the third paragraph. "Where it says he 'completed all tasks assigned to him'. It obviously means the man's an idiot."

"What do you mean? It seems OK to me," said Bernard.

"No, its's not OK. It doesn't say he completed all the tasks 'well', or to anyone's satisfaction. It says he completed them. Probably badly. It's the way they discredit him without saying anything negative. It's code."

"But why?" said Bernard.

"For the simple reason that they don't want to be sued if he doesn't get the job. An employer can't say anything negative that might prevent the person getting hired. That sort of thing can land them in court. Whether or not the employee knows that or not doesn't really matter. They just want to get him out of their office. So they say things like 'he completed all the tasks assigned to him.'"

"I guess you're right," said Bernard thoughtfully. Still looking thoughtful he took a seat and flipped over the page to another applicant's reference letter, then said "And this?"

"Why don't you make yourself at home," I said as I took the letter and quickly read it.

"Ah. Yes, this is a good one. This is a great reference. In fact it's so good this one must have done something really terrible. They want to get rid of him as fast as possible — preferably to go and screw up their competition. They want him to be someone else's problem. You probably want to be careful here.

"Jesus, Fiona! It's like I need a bloody translator," said Bernard in frustration.

"Which is why I'm in this lovely office and you should be running along to your dark room or whatever it is they put you in. And by the way, you smell of fixer."

Bernard looked a little non-plussed, sniffed his hands and then slunk out. I should mention that Bernard hasn't used fixer in about 30 years. Hardly any photographers have. All the photosystems in the company are digital. Still, it was fun to tease him.