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Turning into David Brent and why I'm scared of touching…

Turning into David Brent and why I'm scared of touching…

So it was the final part of work’s attempt to convert me into a David Brent today.

And we had the most annoying twat of a lecturer today, who beguiled us into believing that he would have the answer to the whole work/life balance. But he didn’t…

Instead he regailed into a long anecdote about how despite the fact he used to be a weightlifter, he couldn’t lift a particularly old Japanese guy who was into some form of martial art.

And then, HORROR OF HORRORS, he imitated said man using a Japanese accent. In front of me, and about 12 others.

Now, to be fair, imitating a Japanese men is in theory no worse than imitating someone with a Birmingham accent. Except he even used “Ahhh so!” – which just sends me hurtling back into the playground, cringing in the corner. Damn shame.

So when he asked us all to do a physical exercise that involved bending the arm of a colleague, I just recoiled at the idea of having to actually touch another human being I didn’t really know that well in a vaguely silly manner, and left the room. The over-riding odour of BO probably didn’t help.

So the rest of the morning passed with the entire group taking potshots at the guy – who also denied that there was any spirituality to do with karate. At one point, he said “I’ve been doing this for THIRTY years and never have I been asked that question”. Well, he must have been doing presentations to dead people.

The afternoon faired slightly better – the only trouble with going on all these work courses is that I have to come back to tackle the mountain of work. STill, at least I get net access that way.

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