Sometimes life gives us incidents that are so random that you know not even the most talented of talented writers would have been able to conjure that kinda shit. Those few moments when the likes of Stephen King sits up and exclaims: “WTF?”
Our company has it’s financial year-end in December. For those non-business types out there, it is not a given fact that the financial year-end coincide with the calendar year-end. Some companies choose to have their financial year-end on a different month. The main reason for doing this? Sheer spite.
A financial year-end implies the compilation of financial statements, which in turn, will be audited by financial auditors, who has to make sure that the financial managers complied to audit principles when they were compiling the financial statements. This needs to be done in order for the sharehol…ZZZZZZZZ….Please wake me when I’m done.
Getting back to the fun.
One of the auditors who is earning his salary by having the most boring career on earth, is a smoker. And who can blame him, wouldn’t you want to kill yourself if you had to work in finance? Seeing that it is illegal to smoke in any public place in South Africa, he is required to leave the building every time his lungs yearn for nicotine. He probably would have liked a drink to escape his existence, but alcohol is strictly prohibited during working hours.
So he goes out and light it up, every so often. Like he did yesterday. At the same time, I left my office to get coffee as I needed an excuse to stop working. I saw another auditor walking around the hallway, with her mobile phone stuck to the ear, looking for something or someone. Normally I wouldn’t enquire about their daily routine but this lady had that oops-it-wasn’t-just-a-fart look on her face.
“What’s wrong,” I asked.
“I’m looking for C.” C us our accountant. A short little man with super human intellect, unfortunately taking up some of the space in his brain where his personality was suppose to be.
“I’m not sure where he is, can I help with anything?” I am after all the Commercial Manager, and a Dad, and someone who’s always looking to help a pretty lady. Even if she is an accountant.
“Well, M can’t get into the building.” M is the smoking auditor. No, I wouldn’t consider him attractive, I’m referring to the other type of smoking.
“Why not?” I asked again.
“There is a snake in front of the door.” You see what I mean, a WTF moment.
“A snake. In front of the door,” she remarked in a wise-ass tone, which immediately caused her downgrade from a 7 to a 4.
“What do you mean there is a snake in front of the door? Which door?”
“The outside entrance. M left the building, and as he stepped out, he almost stepped on it. Now he can’t get back in.”
I obviously had to see this for myself and I rushed through a different exit. As I work here, I know all the secret passages for getting home. I found M, which was easy as he was releasing smoke signals. He would have looked more like a puffing dragon if he wasn’t busy recovering from an anxiety attack.
Upon seeing me turn the corner, he didn’t even bother removing the cancer-stick from his mouth, he just pointed at this little fellow which was lying right in front of the door.
And now you know how to keep an auditor out of your office building.