Reuben
There was a management position in one company i worked at that was repeatedly filled by a series of incompentent fuckwits. From the one guy who made 6 discplinary claims against his own staff of 10 in one week, to the guy who actually said to us "you know, if you'd seen my CV, you'd never have given me this job" and to the guy who on his first day said "I want you to know that I take this job seriously, and will give it my full attention 24/7 with the exception of one thing - nothing will take priority in my life over my first love - my love for our lord and saviour, Jesus Christ".

That last bit was jaw dropping. Trying not laugh in that meeting was so difficult. One guy snorted so loudly stuff came out of his nose.

Then they hired Reuben. We fucking loved Reuben, not because he did the job well or even slightly compentently but because he was the single worst person to ever be in any kind of job. But he did it with a child-like innocence that we couldnt help but love. Reuben was obsessed with food and could sniff out a free snack a mile off. He wasnt a fatty, just loved a nice sandwich.

The job was service delivery manager, and he didnt really know what it meant. But for his first assignment, he was due to join our sales director for our annual begging meeting at Barclays. With the board.

The Sales manager is in full flow, presenting to the old boys in Barclaycard's boardroom in Northampton somewhere. Even some of the US board have joined in. Its serious shit, these guys mostly know their banking. Reuben is late. He strolls in unannounced to the boardroom causing everyone to stop and stare. He is wearing chinos, loafers and an untucked polo shirt, carrying no briefcase, phone or anything.

The sales manager is mortified but makes a big show of introducing our new, but brilliant (hinting at eccentric to cover up Reubens astonishing business faux-pas) SDM. Reuben takes his time shaking the hands of everyone at the table, all 16 of them and making everything just awkward. He sits down and the Sales guy gets on with the presentation.

About 11.45, 2 of the admin girls sneak in and arrange some clingfilm covered platters of sandwiches at the back of the room, you know the sort of thing, usually includes some bowls of crisps, little sausage rolls and some cans of drink. Only one person in the room has noticed this.

Reubens eyes havent left the food arrangement in 15 minutes, and he's fidgetting, putting off our sales manager who is becoming increasingly maddened.

Suddenly, in the middle of the talking, Reuben stands, coughing slightly to 'cover' his intrusion, and he walks over to the food. Sales man is gobsmacked, as is everyone else who now are utterly transfixed on Reuben,

Oblivious, Reuben starts peeling off the clingfilm from all the food, and picking at some of the sandwiches. seemingly not finding a filling to his liking, he dismantles a few sandwiches, flicking bits of lettuce around and freeing up some little bread triangles. Now having about 6 or 8 of the bits, he grabs a huge handful of crisps and assembles 3 or 4 little crisp sandwiches.

He returns to the table and looks confused as its all gone quiet. Sits down, eyeing up his little plate, (think Mr Bean eyes), picks up a sandwich and CRUNCH.

The salesman telling this story usually peels off about now, having not the words to describe the reaction. Somehow we renewed with Barclays and life went on. Reuben lasted a couple of weeks after that. He even did something better later on which i might type up later.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 12:19, 8 replies)

Fantastic!
I've always had the urge to do that when food arrives in a meeting.

Have a click.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 12:25, closed)

That story
raised a laugh in the office, please can we have the Reuben part 2?
( Trollman, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 12:59, closed)

I would describe that story as.......
.......'Braw'

Please may we have a sequel?
(JasperSinister is offering two tickets to the gun show, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 13:05, closed)

.
No typey, no clicky. So there. Ahh, go on then.
(misanthrope is so adjective he's verbing nouns!, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 13:28, closed)

as they say on chan boards
MOAR!

That did make me give a fair hearty laugh from my bed of illness.

b3ta makes illness not so bad ^__^
(Multi-Coloured Pop Shop "twat with a ukulele", Thu 24 Jan 2008, 13:33, closed)

Full-on, Hearty...
Office lol!

I must must must know Reuben Part II!

*click*
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 24 Jan 2008, 14:22, closed)

I don't work for Barclaycard...
...but quite clearly you are talking about the site at 1234 Pavilion Drive on Brackmills.

The girl who brought in your food wasn't one of the admin girls, and it wasn't one of the (Aramark) contracted catering staff. The only girl who would have brought you food in the (was then) executive suite on the 3rd floor is Stephanie. She's an absolute darling and still looks after Barclaycard's lost souls. Or so I am told. *Cough*
(Guizmeaux, Fri 25 Jan 2008, 20:38, closed)

I roffled.
*click*
(Sir Harrington Titsmith disgraced himself on, Tue 29 Jan 2008, 16:47, closed)