Once upon a time I had a job with a boss who I did not like very much, mainly because when I negotiated my pay with him he called me a ‘cheeky bitch’, something which he later told me was meant as a joke, but which I did not think was appropriate. You know, under the circumstances of pay negotiation. Or any circumstances, in fact: in fact, I do not think it is ever appropriate for any man to call me a bitch. But that’s another story.
Anyway, after three months of brittle co-working I had my probation review with the boss, in which he told me that I was doing very well and everyone was pleased with my work but that there had been some complaints that I did not make tea enough. I was unimpressed by this remark, because I do not drink tea as a habit, and because of this non-habit I do not really understand the ethos of the tea run: my lack of desire for tea meant that I never knew (nor cared much) about when tea should be made, or who it should be made for, or when it was my turn to make the tea that I never drank. Perhaps this was obtuse of me! Or just, you know, American.
Some weeks after this incident I was out of the office one Friday and I received frantic emails from two of my colleagues: the boss had made a tea chart. On a white board, in the middle of the office, with each of our names and a space by each one to tick off the number of times we made tea. Oh, how I fumed.
This will not stand, I said to my colleagues. I will not stand for this!
When I came in on Monday I saw the tea chart and my determination to overthrow the unreasonable tea chart regime was redoubled. I waited until someone got up to do a tea round.
Would anyone like tea? he said.
No, thank you, I declared. I am going to opt out of the tea round henceforth.
And then I got up and walked over to the tea chart and wiped my name off, with a show-offy flick of the wrist.
Wipe my name off, too! said another brave colleague.
I did. And then I returned to my desk, and smiled a tight smile, and felt like a very victorious, very petty person.
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I was reminded of this today when I made this tray of tea for some of my current colleagues. It was a pleasure. It made me feel happy, and British. And all because they are nice people, and there is no tea chart. And there’s a lesson in all this, somewhere, maybe. Probably quite a simple one.
