At work there is a free coffee machine for staff, access to toaster (free bread, butter and jam) and microwave incinerator and enough free food that, had I time to eat it, would save me buying any ever again. Especially since I’m there six days a week, lately seven.
Machine coffee is, of course, horrible. Most staff use the hot water function and the free tea bags. It produces something it calls espresso but isn’t. The best option I’ve found is the hot chocolate. But hell, it’s free. So is the chilled-water machine.
Some places have a kettle and a jar of coffee and you’d think that’s okay. At least they aren’t smoking, right? Smokers cost companies millions of imaginary money by taking five minute smoking breaks while real people take half-hour coffee breaks. That’s what I used to hear every damn day, over seven years ago, when I last worked for someone else. I don’t hear it in the new job. Not at all. Too many smokers, and not many breaks. Besides, it’s a shop. The staff can’t decamp en masse to the coffee room like scientists do. You take a break when there’s nothing to do and what you do in that break, nobody cares.
Well, it seems those places with kettles are now thinking ‘Hey, these buggers use our electricity to make cups of tea. They aren’t working while they do it and they’re costing us money!’
The precise made-up figure is 32 million fine British pounds.
Note the use of ‘selfish’. Remember that, antismoking coffee break people? It’s your favourite word to describe smokers, isn’t it? Well, it’s your turn now.
Coming soon – taking breaks from work hurts the economy, causes business failures, and by some tortured version of logic will no doubt cost the NHS money and be responsible for the recession. No breaks, Keep working, drone, work until you die. Oh, but if you live your life according to the British Standard Human blueprint you will never die. You will work without break forever but you’ll be fit and healthy and you will be happy because it will be illegal not to be.
Then when you are old you will be sent on the Pathway to Liverpool, a place of wonder and light where puppies and little lambs gambol and play.
Shit, I’m giving away a big chunk of Panoptica there.
Oh, what the hell. It’s all coming true anyway.