Alan wrote “QQ sidesteps sack?” in his notebook.
“If there are no more questions…?” said Miserable.
There were none.
“Good. The other matter I wanted to speak to you about concerns redundancies, more generally.”
Alan readied himself for more notes.
“We know from past experience that there will be some staff members who, to press their claims for retrenchment, will now behave in peculiar ways.”
Alan thought about previous redundancy rounds and the strategies employed by individuals to create the impression of mental instability, so as to secure places on the list of departing officers. A few nudists were always to be expected, as were figures from popular culture, history and literature – all appropriately costumed, except for the naturists – as well as persons entitled to wear uniforms of various sorts, including members of the constabulary and the military. His personal favourites, though, were always colleagues who pretended to be less exuberant members of the animal kingdom. He recalled a Clerk Class 11 who’d assumed the persona of a wombat, spending the day (excluding the lunch-time grocery-shopping opportunity) silent and under his desk. He recalled, too, a Clerical Assistant Grade 9 mountain goat who’d wandered amiably around the office, chewing on pot plants and unattended shoes, and, finally, a Murray Cod Typist Supervisor who’d forsaken conversation for occasional open-mouthed tongue-clicking noises intended to approximate the sound of bubbles either leaving the fish-mouth or reaching the water’s surface.
“We will doubtless have the usual range of the unclothed, of exotic indigenes, of historical figures and so forth: people from the branch who are determined to be made redundant if it transpires that we are not to be completely abolished. There may also be officers from the broader department who want to be at the top of the list, if all of our positions are to go and the usual job-swap arrangements are in place.”
While Miserable took a big gulp from his mug, Alan started to assemble a list of assistant directors who might be keen to swap with him.
“There will always be officers who want to be certain of a golden handshake,” said Miserable, before taking an even bigger swig of coffee. “But I want you to know – and I want your people to know – that I will not be rewarding bad behaviour this time around. Indeed, I refuse to entertain expressions of interest in redundancy from anyone acting strangely, unless of course they happen to have been ‘a screw loose’ for quite some time.”
In Alan’s experience, such principled statements of intention rarely resulted in a happy outcome. He wrote “no farewell funds for phonies” in his workbook, before crossing the text out in favour of “no pecuniary prizes for pretenders”.
“And anyone who is at any point naked in the workplace – even if they are disrobing at their desk and getting dressed, again, before moving about the office – will not be considered for redundancy in any circumstances. Indeed, they can expect to be referred to the Commonwealth Medical Officer for the most exhaustive psychological testing, with disciplinary action to follow, if found not to be loopy.”
Alan wrote “nude to Dr and disciplined if not deranged” in his notebook, while a few of the directors sighed and the remainder sniggered.
“How likely is it that anyone working here would be found to be normal?” scoffed the chicken nuggets director.
Alan thought himself to be almost abnormally normal but decided not to cavil with the proposition. Miserable, too, seemed to think it undeserving of attention.
“I have nothing against nudity at the right time and place – when bathing or at the doctor’s, or perhaps on the occasion of a same-sex sauna with Finnish familiars – but the appropriate time is not now or any time soon, and the appropriate place is certainly not here or – now I think about it – anywhere remotely near here.”
Alan wrote “no undress except ablutions, medical or Scandinavia” in his workbook.
“And I refuse – yes, refuse – to spend my days responding to complaints from the clothed about the unclothed, as I was required to do during previous redundancy rounds. That said, though, I don’t want you remonstrating with anyone who is naked. I think we’ve had quite enough workplace violence in recent times, don’t you?”
Alan wrote “no admonish unclad” in his workbook and thought guiltily about the violence visited upon Ernest Hemingway by Quentin Quist. Miserable refilled his mug.
“What I require of you until further notice is a weekly list of staff in your sections who are behaving strangely.”
“That will be all of them,” said the chicken nuggets director.
“The same for me,” said his whole turkey counterpart.
Miserable ignored the murmurs of agreement around the table.
“And a daily update on the birthday suit brigade – who, what where and when – so that I can keep Brian fully apprised of developments.”
“As if we haven’t got enough to do,” said one of the other directors.
“But I want you to otherwise pay as little attention as you can to naked individuals.”
Alan wrote “report nude daily but ignore” in his workbook.
“We all know that attention only encourages them,” said the special projects director, to everyone’s surprise.
“Quite so,” said Miserable. “Otherwise, in the current circumstances, our mantra needs to be ‘business as usual’. Well, actually, ‘business as usual plus a lot more filing.’”
“Filing,” exclaimed a number of the directors as Alan wrote “b as u” in his notebook.
“Yes,” said Miserable, “filing, in case we don’t have January to get all of the paper off people’s desks and out of their trays.”
“Some of my people will need assistance with this,” said a director to Miserable’s right.
“Because of the volume of unfiled material?” asked the Business Unit Manager.
“Because they don’t understand the fundamentals.”
“How hard is it,” asked Miserable, “to whip a hole into a piece of paper and then bung it onto a file?”
Alan wanted to pipe up and say, in a respectful but firm tone, that he believed there to be a good deal more to filing than hole ‘whipping’ and file ‘bunging’, but the Business Unit Manager had issues of her own to raise.
“How can public servants not know about filing?” she asked.
“We were journalists before we were public servants,” said another of the directors.
“And the rest of us didn’t have other lives?” said the Business Unit Manager.
Alan certainly didn’t think of himself as having a previous life – at least not one of any substance – but, again, kept his own counsel.
“We’ll sort this out later,” said Miserable. “Perhaps Alan, who is reputed to have expertise in this area, could deliver some lightning filing workshops to get your people up to speed.”
Alan liked to think of himself as the filer nonpareil and, for the second time that day, felt a rush of pride at being selected for an ‘out of the ordinary’ assignment. He wrote “Einreichung Blitzkriegs” in his notebook.
“In the meantime, though,” said Miserable, “is everybody clear on my requirements as regards the redundancy try-ons?”
The directors all nodded reluctant agreement.
“Peaches will distribute forms for your reports.”