In one episode of The Simpsons, Sideshow Bob tries to get LOVE and HATE tattooed on his knuckles. It doesn’t work quite as well when you only have three fingers. Ha ha. In one of my customer-facing roles I had to serve someone who really did have the tattoos. The whole of the image that this chap presented was pretty unnerving. He wasn’t a particularly physically imposing bloke, but you got the impression that you would not want to end up in a tangle with him. That job seemed to bring me into contact with some interesting characters. Somehow I vaguely got to know the manager of the Carousel slots emporium* up the road from work. Having met him once, he was suddenly everywhere I went: on the tube platform, in the supermarket, across the street. I doubt it was anything more sinister than that he lived near me and worked near me, but it did cause me a little concern at the time. He was perfectly friendly to my face, but he carried himself and spoke in a way which implied a darker side. He silently proclaimed “DON’T MESS WITH ME”. This was all quite a new experience for a sheltered nineteen year-old.
I am terrible at working out whether people like me or not. I don’t often care one way or the other, so I don’t lose any sleep over it, but for better or worse my brain doesn’t have that function. I could have legions of secret admirers and be entirely unaware of them. There could be enemies around every corner plotting my undoing and I wouldn’t know any better.
One of the people I work for has absolutely shocking people skills. He is genuinely a thoughtful caring person, but because he does not know how to talk to others he gives the impression that he is a arrogant anti-social swine. When he tries to tell anyone anything he inadvertently sounds dismissive and patronising. He doesn’t mean to make everyone feel stupid, but he does. He raises his voice at inappropriate moments, he is abrupt and he even manages to make “never mind” sound like a death sentence. He once made a horrific comment about my shoes. It took me years to work out that he didn’t hate me.
The nice receptionist has started a lottery syndicate at work, inspired by the BT workers who won a share of £45m. There has been much discussion of what would constitute a decent amount to win. A few hundred pounds would be pretty life changing for me at the moment, but I reckon it would take quite a hefty sum to allow me to retire. During a ridiculous conversation between me and the receptionist about how much I would need to win before I handed in my notice, I caught the boss eavesdropping from his desk. He had a look of utter fear on his face.
* the only time I have ever actually been inside one of those places was on a Scout trip to Clacton…
I think I’ve retired but I,m not sure as my living and my hobby are pretty much the same.
The ‘love hate’ tattoos (or any tattoos on the knuckles) are usually prison tattoos. I tend to try not to annoy anyone with tattoos on their knuckles.
Interesting point you make about the Lottery Blues.
When I was in a ’syndicate ‘ years ago, the senior partner also paid in – twice, because he said that if we ever won, we’d all push off, leaving him with nobody to do the work!
People skills or natural friendliness? Perhaps a combination of both is the key. All I know is that I rate these attributes way above and way beyond qualifications. As for tattooed knuckles, unless it says `Jake` or `Elwood` be very careful.
Scrobs – it’s nice to know that they are worried that they would be left without any help!
H – I think one can learn people skills even if one is naturally unfriendly. I agree, friendliness and personability is much better coming “naturally”.