Breaking the Mould

Charlie

Sometimes I fucking hate running my company – it’s all full of arse-licking employees who give me grief about the rate of my swearing, bar a few who seem to be as sane as I am. It’s not like I swear in front of important clients or even the less important clients come to that, yet they still find something to complain about! I built that company from scratch and started it out of my bedroom in my parents’ house. If I want to storm and swear when some idiot doesn’t do his job right, then I will.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some ogre of a boss who screams and has tantrums, the complete opposite actually. Just today I took my leading management team out for a slap up meal, at my own expense rather than the company’s. This company is my baby – I gave birth to it fifteen years ago when I was twenty one, when I discovered that I was more than just a computer geek. Not literal birth of course, that would be weird, just the birth of the idea for the company. I was a computer geek with a brain and a charm that could rival Johnny Depp. Since then I have built it from office to office finally ending up in the Chiswick Business Park alongside major names like Vue and Foxtons.

Today was the worst day in a while and it’s all down to the new head of marketing who is really getting on my tits. I should never have hired the vain, supercilious twit but my right hand man, Robert, suggested him for his mind not his attitude. I run a company that outsources artwork and graphics to major brands like Sainsburys and Tesco and I have a fantastic design team. We also have expanded into print management in recent years and the twit I’ve just hired is fronting one of our Sainsburys campaigns. Robert is head of the studio and is in charge of the contracts and new ones that come in whilst I am heading up all the teams. The marketing director has come to my desk with new campaign ideas for Sainsburys when we’ve just re-signed Jamie fucking Oliver for a third year in a row and he knows this. I pick up the phone and dial Roberts’ desk.

‘Rob, come in here for a sec.’

Robert swings into the room. We both know it’s coming to the end of the day and neither of us want to stay longer than necessary. Luckily, this isn’t about work!

‘I’m heading down to All Bar One after work,’ I say as he slumps into one of the chairs opposite my desk. ‘Do you want to come for a couple?’

Rob shakes his head and stretches out.

‘Nah, thanks mate. I’ve got to go up to Lisa’s tonight and then tomorrow I’m over at Rachel’s.’ I raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs, holding his hands up.

‘No, Rach has enforced a ‘strictly platonic’ ruling seeing as I’m with Lisa now. Until that’s over, she won’t give it up and I’m glad she’s not the type to.’

‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ I ask. Robert shrugs.

‘Rachel and I go back nearly 6 years, she’s my best friend. Yeah I still see her that way but its best we’re just friends for now. There’s no point ruining something good, even if I reckon Lisa and I won’t last out too long.’

I drum my pen on the desk. Robert might be one of my best mates, but he is seriously clueless about how to deal with the women in his life. Robert and Rachel were together a long time, break up, stay friends with benefits until he gets a girlfriend. I’ve never met Rachel, but from the way he talks about her, I’d love to meet this woman. He describes her as the ideal girl. She can cook, she likes rugby, she doesn't take any shit from anyone and she is apparently dynamite in bed. I can tell from the way he talks about Lisa that his heart really isn’t in trying for this relationship.

‘Be careful there. One of these days Rachel’s going to meet someone and you won’t know what fucking hit you.’

Rob laughs, as if to say that Rachel wouldn’t actually meet anyone. I really feel for this woman. She doesn't realise that he thinks he can just twitch the reins and he expects her to come running. I shake my head at him.