The Curvy Girls Club. Michele Gorman
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Lazy people. Would you use this product?
Me: Yes.
Her: Then you’re one of the ones I’m talking about. Why would I buy from you? Clearly your company is only interested in shortcuts. Maintaining health is a lifelong process, not a quick fix.
At which point the conversation would veer off into a philosophical debate about the psychology of our culture today. That’s the part I rather enjoyed, and the reason I wouldn’t give her up when Cressida asked if I wanted to take her off my list.
‘Jenny aside,’ Cressida said. ‘You’ve done very well with your prospects, though you haven’t quite met your client meeting target, have you?’
‘But I’m never allowed out to see clients. Clive doesn’t give me the new clients and you never approve travel expenses.’
‘It’s tough right now. Finance checks every expense.’ She looked sad to have to tell me this. ‘You know we have to look at each request based on the cost-benefit of the meeting. If one salesperson can see several clients in the same area, we have to do that. It’s a cost-efficiency decision.’
It wasn’t, but I needed to stay on-point. ‘Then why am I being penalised for not meeting that target?’
‘You’re not penalised. Not at all. I’ve still given you Adequate on your client meetings, even though you haven’t hit the target.’
‘But it counts as a negative when I point out where I’ve exceeded the target.’
Cressida sighed. ‘Katie. Your overall grade is based on your aggregate performance.’ She spoke as if to a dim-witted child. ‘In order to exceed expectations you mustn’t be behind in any of your goals. I’ve really given you a very good review, considering …’ She shifted in her chair. The mood changed suddenly. ‘There is just one thing we need to discuss.’
I got the feeling I was about to find out why I’d been the lucky winner of another day off.
‘Our records show that you’ve been using company resources for your own personal use.’
I racked my brains for something to say. ‘I, I might have taken a pen home, accidentally.’
‘I’m not talking about pens.’ She fished in her folder. ‘Your telephone records show a lot of personal calls.’ Dozens of phone numbers were circled in purple pen. They never used red pen these days, since the consultants came in last year and declared it to be a shouty colour. ‘These aren’t clients, and they’re not on the cold-call lists. Are you making personal calls from work? I don’t mean the odd call home to check your messages. This looks like much more. ’
It was a rhetorical question. The evidence sat on the table between us. Is ignorance a valid self-defence? Your honour, it never occurred to me that these were crimes. Everyone made personal calls on company time. Like everyone took pens home (I had a stationery cupboard in my handbag).
‘I’m really sorry, Cressida, and I’m very embarrassed about this. I didn’t think it was a problem. And I didn’t realise I’d made quite so many calls. Of course I won’t do it again.’ Though I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep that promise. I’d have to find someone else to make the club calls on the days I worked. Maybe Pixie could do it. She was at home, though with her children and husband there, it wasn’t a very conducive work environment. Maybe Rob.
Cressida smiled. ‘It’s fine. I just had to mention it, as your boss, that’s all. Really, don’t worry about it. It’s definitely not a big deal.’
‘Did it factor into your decision to cut my hours?’
‘No, not at all!’
I exhaled with relief. ‘I feel really foolish.’
‘Please don’t. You’re right, everybody does it. It just got flagged up because there was a pattern. You know how the company likes its exception reports. Seriously, don’t think any more about it. Have you got any more questions about your review before we set your goals for the next six months?’
I shook my head, feeling stupid for trying to argue my way out of the Adequate box. She took my final review from her folder and slid it over the table.
Needs Improvement. My face burned. ‘But I thought you said it was no big deal?’ I whispered.
‘Oh, it’s not, believe me. We just had to put you there since the reports were flagged up. HR policy. But in reality it’s not an issue as long as you don’t turn up on any more reports. Your performance has been fine. Now, shall we talk about your goals?’
She talked through the rest of the review, but I wasn’t paying much attention. I Needed Improvement.
Alex’s email was waiting for me when I returned to my desk.
You okay?
Did you know about the cut in hours?
Yes, I’m sorry. I couldn’t say anything until everyone was told. It’s a companywide decision. Hopefully it won’t mean a big cut in income as long as you keep up with your commissions. Seriously though, are you okay?
I guess so, thanks. I’m trying to see it as a positive – I get an extra day off!
That’s my girl. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.
As I typed smiley faces in response, something occurred to me. Were those sympathetic symphony tickets he gave me, to cushion the blow?
Whether they were pity tickets or not, Ellie and I enjoyed the symphony tremendously. By the time the last note faded away I wasn’t thinking about my change in circumstances at all.
But of course, being told you’ve been singled out for partial redundancy does prey on the mind, so after the concert I obsessed about it all weekend. Dress it up any way you like, it hurt to know I’d been singled out. Cressida had said it wasn’t because I Needed Improvement, but if not that, then why?
Alex was at my desk when I got into work on Monday. He whisked me away to the coffee shop, his face creased with concern as we sipped our steaming drinks.
‘Will you fight it?’ he asked.
I shook my head. I’d spent the weekend figuring out what I wanted, and how I might get it. When I told Alex, he smiled.
‘You’re a very sharp woman,’ he said, touching my hand as my tummy cartwheeled.
Back at the office I put on my game face and told Cressida that if they insisted on taking work away from me, then I wanted my days off to be Thursday and Friday. Given that I was the one being underemployed, I reasoned, she should accommodate my wishes. Plus, it would be easier to find part-time work when I didn’t have to split my days. At the mention of another job, Cressida flinched and easily acquiesced. I was glad she felt guilty. She bloody well should, having given me the Judas kiss.
Not that I had any plans to get a part-time job. Ellie worked through my budget with her Worst Case Scenario hat on and I’d still have just enough money with the pay cut. Besides, I had a better idea about what to do on those days. So I called our first official Curvy Girls Club meeting.
A smattering of the regulars sat at stools along the bar in our local, while most of the booths were colonised by the trendsters who’d moved into the area in the past few years. As a quasi-local (four years in the neighbourhood), of course I pretended to commiserate with the pub landlord’s rants about the Uniqlo-clad newbies ruining the character of the place. But given that the estate at the end of my road was raided weekly and the strip club on the corner had to install blue lights outside to keep the addicts from shooting up on the property, I welcomed the fact that our new neighbours raised my property value and didn’t usually carry concealed weapons. And if