Last night, spurred on by the four vodkas and three glasses of pink champagne she had enjoyed at a work leaving-party, Aoife let me know what she thought of my job. Not much, as it happens. Apparently though, grousing about your job is pretty much like calling your sister a whore or your father a stingy bastard: it's something you don't like other people joining in with.
Just because I am not a high-powered, overworked and undercompensated trainee accountant who has to get up at 6.30am and doesn't get home till after seven at the latest, I have a cushy job. Ha! Has she not been listening to me? Did she just forget the co-workers who hate me, the ignorant students, the long hours on your feet, the (moderately) heavy lifting, the days of relentless tedium? This snobbery must desist!
I see this latest quarrel as a class struggle, with me representing the diligent, uncomplaining service industry and Aoife as the self-involved corporate accountant. Us librarians must rise together to prevent our place in society from being demeaned, diminished and degraded! To prevent the awful advance of self-aggrandising accountants! [I foresee much alliteration in my future campaign speeches] I must warn you now, it shall not be an easy battle. Those accountants have sharp teeth and can add huge rows of figures at high speed. There will be much blood shed in the name of justice and truth. But with champions such as these, who will back out? Who's with me?!
PS: There will be no joining up after we have the battle won. If you are not with us, you are considered an accountant and after the final battle will be doomed to spend eternity trying to understand a balance sheet incapable of balancing, with only an broken abacus and Derek Mooney to assist you. The broken abacus is self-explanatory; Derek Mooney because I can't stand the bugger and by then there will have been enough bloodshed.