The Office of Fear Trading (854 hits)
Category: Business & FinancialLabels: officestuff
Rating: 1.65 on 34 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Flash Harry (View user info) at 2008-06-25 06:43:15 EDT
There is a staple shortage at work.
It's been brewing for a while, and has finally become critical. Whenever I have ventured to the stationery cupboard in recent weeks the shelf that holds the staples has grown noticeably empty. Others have noticed this too; it has been quite the topic of conversation at the coffee machine.
"Seen how many staples are left?" asks one employee worriedly.
"Don't worry," replies the other, in a clandestine manner. "I've got a stash in my drawer. I'll see you straight."
Except now, even the secret stashes have been exhausted. The office manager, a bullish tyrant called Moira, went round everybody's desks this morning, emptying our staplers of their ammunition. "I'm going to collect all the staples, and ration them out accordingly," she informed us. A special email group has been set up for staple requests. We have to provide our business reason for wanting the staples and suggest how many we might need.
Nobody really knows why the staples have run out. I suspect it might have something to do with the credit crunch, or oil prices, or Mugabe. Maybe staples, en masse, are so weighty that it is no longer viable to transport them in lorries. Are the staple-lorry-drivers on strike? I might have seen that on GMTV, but I'm not sure. I keep hearing about the increased price of petrol, but I never thought it would affect me, not really. Certainly not in this way.
Perhaps it's an underground terrorist faction of fanatical Stationers. They know, above all other people, the importance of staples. Documents become muddled. Agendas are rendered incomplete. Loose paper wreaks havoc across the business world. They could end the world as we know it, these lunatics. I wonder what their demands are? They would be met in a moment, I am sure. We have been without staples for only a few hours, but already cracks are appearing in the machine.
Moira plods around, dispensing boxes of paper-clips. The staples might be gone, but there are thousands of paper-clips left, and for good reason: they are rubbish. You think you have secured pages together, slip them into a filing cabinet or envelope, and think nothing more of it. It is only later, when you find one rogue paper-clip on the floor, by your feet, that you understand the uselessness of these things. What one has come loose? Are the pages still in order? Have I sent a confirm to London sans signature? Has it fallen into rebel hands? Is Neil from IT looking at my funny? Do I have ketchup on my face?
I haven't eaten anything with ketchup today, but paranoia sinks in quickly in this desperate time.
Staples allay all of these fears. They remain in their holster until you torpedo them out with a sharp squeeze, pierce the desired sheets and effortlessly curl round, gripping them, sealing them. There is something relaxing in the finality of a stapled document. It is done, it is safe. Executed. The many become the one.
Now that I think about it, I don't even know where we get our staples from. They just appear in the stationery cupboard, from time to time, along with post-its, biros, binders and pencil sharpeners. Although I've never seen anyone use a pencil here, never mind sharpen one. A lot of the girls wear eye-liner, I suppose, so perhaps it's for them. But who fills this cupboard up anyway? I like to imagine some kind of stationery fairy, hovering about when everyone has gone home, filling up the shelves and whistling a bewitching melody. Perhaps someone leaves pennies out in exchange. Maybe someone forgot to leave pennies out, and that is why the staple supply has dried up.
I feel sorry for the girl next to me, which is strange since I usually harbour a particular distaste for her. She wears ridiculously coloured pashminas and talks incessantly about Big Brother in a solemn tone, as though it were some kind of ceasefire conference. "Did you hear what she said last night?" she'll ask the girl opposite her, whose face glows orange with fake-bake. "I really worry about what'll happen when she leaves the house, I really do." Tango-face nods in agreement.
But today I pity her. Her request for an extra run of staples has been rejected by Moira, whose power-crazed rampage grows more severe by the minute. She has been reduced to trying alternative remedies. Sellotape is too fidgety, and prone to ripping the paper; blu tack is pleasantly malleable, but lacks the cohesive potency to be a success. So she is stuck with the paperclips. I watch her peel the lips open, insert the papers and squeeze the clip shut, as tight as her little fingers will allow, praying that they will hold. I say a silent prayer, too.
But I can't dwell on her at the moment. I have my own problems to worry about. You see, last week, when it became clear that the staple shortage would soon become a staple drought, I stocked up. Big time. Hidden in my drawer, beneath the Subway menu and the dead one from Monty Python's biography, lies the last full box of staples in the entire office. I didn't say anything at first, because I wanted them all for myself, but now too long has passed to admit that I have them. Moira would be displeased.
My secret staples are clean, cold and shiny, but I daren't use them. The very sound of a stapler clamping shut would draw perplexed glares from the sweaty brows that surround me - but my nerves are beginning to grow. What if someone finds them? What if they perform a random drawer search when I am out at lunch? What if I forget they are there, go in to get my book and someone sees them? Oh, I could claim ignorance - "what are they doing there?!" - but that horse bolted when we were asked, specifically, to check our drawers for staples at the start of the day, and I confirmed that I had none.
So I have staples in a building where they are all but extinct, guarded by the management and coveted by the workforce. I feel like Robin Hood, or the main character from 1984. It is terrifying.
I could give them away. I could sell them! It would have to be very discreet though. The muttered curses that float across the office tell me that everyone is sick to death of paperclips already. Were my betrayal to be discovered, it would cause a riot. It would be like Lord of the Flies. I would be crucified.
I could give them to Nikos, the Greek guy. He's street-wise. He'd know what to do. But can I trust him? He's bald. Can I trust a bald Greek man with this?
I could give them to Jessica, the tall, buxom brunette who lets me smell her hair when we stand in the queue for the vending machine. Well, she never notices it, anyway, and if she does then she is too aroused to say anything. It would be a romantic gesture, offered on one knee, a sacrificial gift of betrothal. "Jessica, I noticed your nail varnish was getting chipped by those awful paperclips..." It might work.
On the other hand, perhaps I would be better giving them to Katy, the new mother who is incredibly conscious of her still-huge bottom. They would make her feel better about herself. And it would make me feel better about staring at her massive rump when she struts past, squeezed into inadequate trousers and shaking boldly from side to side. She might think her full cheeks unattractive, but I, for some reason, love that ass. It is delightful.
No, no, I cannot give them away. Nor can I use them. Nor can I leave them idling my drawer - my nerves could not handle it. Perhaps I'll slip them into my pocket and put them in the bin when I go out for lunch. Maybe I could throw them out the window? I know - I'll hide them in my shoe.
Fear envelopes me. My hand shakes uncontrollably. I am going to give myself away, unless I get a grip. But everything is falling apart.
User Reviews
Submitted by loveinbrevity (user info) at 2008-07-09 05:44:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by woolfe (user info) at 2008-07-08 05:05:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2008-06-29 12:40:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I don't know how you lazy fucks can sit around in an office all day pushing paper.
I'd fucking off myself.
Submitted by Banjo (user info) at 2008-06-26 21:00:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
2ssssssssssssssssssss away!
Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-06-25 18:26:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I can't think of anything I'd rather read less about than staples. Flan, perhaps.
Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-06-25 18:16:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
See, that was my idea, I would have just said I bought my own dam staples.
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2008-06-25 17:32:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
this was sorta boring.
Submitted by comicbookguy (user info) at 2008-06-25 14:26:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
great read
Submitted by Director (user info) at 2008-06-25 14:10:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by X54 (user info) at 2008-06-25 11:41:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hoarding is human nature. It's a form of speculation, like buying oil futures. You aren't the only one to have a secret stash of staples. In fact, everyone in your office probably has a bunch of them hidden away. If this didn't cause the shortage in the first place, it certainly exacerbated it in the same way that speculators have helped drive up the price of oil. Moira probably set the whole crisis in motion with her rationing scheme. Intentionally. "To each according to his need," she said. In reality, however, it was just another mechanism of control designed to leverage her own powerbase. She who controls the staples controls the office. The time is ripe for an office mutiny. You could lead it. Rise up and kill your oppressor! Staple her to her office chair with your illicit staples, then roll her down the stairs.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-25 10:05:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Huzzah!
Fat Kenny just went to the newsagents on his lunch-break and bought all their staples. The relief is palpable.
Submitted by cordelia (user info) at 2008-06-25 09:51:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Funny!
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-06-25 09:50:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Incidentally, one of the bosses cut his finger open on a twisted staple, and walked all the way back to my little hallway, still bleeding, to tell me that I needed to be more careful with my use of normal/large/supersized staples.
Also, I broke the BIG stapler... It wasn't on purpose, if that's what you were thinking.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-06-25 09:47:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Stay away from my staple stash.
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2008-06-25 09:45:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-06-25 09:13:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Maybe someone forgot to leave pennies out, and that is why the staple supply has dried up.
Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:53:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
An amusing read, to be sure.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:52:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Brilliant.
B@W
Lets just put everything on B@W.
Submitted by Doodles (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:44:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I enjoy reading you.
Submitted by Mr_Trollope (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:26:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thirded.
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:25:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Agreed
B@W
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:24:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
B@W
Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2008-06-25 08:21:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Maybe a dingo ate your brother!
Submitted by Replen (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:46:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
A quality read. Although personally if I sat next to a girl who talked incessantly about Big Brother then I'd probably be thinking about using that last box to staple her mouth shut.
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:41:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.geekalerts.com/u/handi-stapler.jpg
No photo on this post :(
Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:33:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Bravo! This was great!
There has been some good stuff on uber today, but this was the best I had read.
Submitted by tloshjohnson (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:25:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Something decent! woohoo!
Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:18:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good job Harry. This was a lot of fun to read.
I'm off to make a hidden cache of staples.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:04:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-25 12:00:43 BST (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes it should have been 'envelops'.
Must've been a Freudian typo. Bit of a stationery joke.
-----------------------------
If it was intended, it wasn't needed, that is all.
I went to a chinese restaurant last night were the menus were bound together with a boot lace (unused).
The shortage must be nationwide.
despite the restaurant being situated to a disused petrol station, and the boot lace menus, the food was AWESOME.
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:00:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes it should have been 'envelops'.
Must've been a Freudian typo. Bit of a stationery joke.
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2008-06-25 07:00:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
The yellow ribbon fell out my diary but thanks to staples I can go straight to the correct day once more!
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-25 06:54:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Also, did you mean 'Fear envelops me'?
Because if you intended to put 'envelopes' it was totally unnecessary.
I have no idea how to spell that word.
Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-25 06:49:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You see, you *can* be funny!
Maybe it is because you didn't try so hard?
Although, from the way you describe 'Moira', I doubt very much she would 'plod'.
Wrong choice of words.
Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-06-25 06:47:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Its amazing how such trivial things as staples make major office talk.
Thing is, staples matter.
As do ring binders, marker pens, notebooks and rulers
I even have a calculator heh