Wednesday, 9 October 2013


I know for sure when working as a temp/hired gun in any office, people – men especially - love to gossip. I find being the fill-in worker gives people the freedom to vent their spleen about what they hate, who they hate, what’s going wrong in the company, which manager sucks, who’s sleeping with who and "did you ever wonder what’s going on behind that locked door with the warning sign, Amarinda? Well, I’ll tell you but tell no one.” Sure, tell me. Sure, I’ll probably tell no one about the locked door, the people screwing around or  whose fiddling with the system, the accounts, the lady who comes in and looks snotty at everyone but ‘we all now she’s screwing X and Y and just wait until W finds out she lifts her legs in the air for anyone.' Nope, I probably won’t use any of it unless I can use it to my advantage of course. I’m not silly. Know where the dirt is and stow that goss for ‘ron. Even as a temp power is knowledge.

It’s not just being the hired agency gun that makes people feel they can spill their guts. It’s me personally. I attract gossipers just by saying ‘hello and how are you?’ Call it a gift. A calling. An inner light that shines from me inciting gossipers to let go and tell all. Today, let’s call him, er – Barry – came into the office. I never saw him before but I said hello and it was on. He told me so much dirt. Barry, is somewhat of a troublemaker and flouter of rules. Barry also makes sure that the ‘system’ doesn’t screw him over or he’ll go on sick leave, claim discrimination, declare legal action, sit with his legs up on the desk or just go into go-slow mode to make sure nothing gets done and everyone knows he 'knows his rights'. I like the Barry’s of the world. They’re useful. I’ve used information from

Yes, it’s wrong to listen to gossip to store information. Yes, very wrong. Thankfully, wrong works for me.