Chit chat - CD & Suit

CD and Senior Suit are sitting around shooting the shit until it’s an acceptable hour to leave and head for the pub (11am). The big presentation is over, a three week lead up of late nights is now in the past and they are enjoying a well-deserved respite...at least until the client comes back in a day or so and inevitably shit-cans the work.

CD – Sometimes I think our industry should be unionised.

Suit – I don't.

CD – That’s because you’re a suit.

Suit – Fuck off, over-rated colouring-in boy. Why should we be? Give me an example.

CD – Ok. We’ve worked our asses off for three weeks, way beyond our contract hours, and what do we get? No overtime, nothing, not a fucking single cent more.

Suit – Well, last year you got a trip to Hawaii to say thanks. I seem to remember I got fuck all.

CD (ignoring the hole exposed) – Exactly, you got fuck all. You should be pissed.

Suit – I tell you what I got. I got to keep a six figure salary mate. I got to stay within the top 5% of the highest-income earners in this country. What I didn’t get was some fucked award overtime-rate to accompany an even more fucked standard hourly-rate…what you seem to be arguing for.

CD – You’re missing the point.

Suit – Am I?

CD – You are.

Suit – OK, so you’re deluded and still seem to think you’re right. Hit me with another example.

CD – Sure thing, bagman. If we worked in retail, for example, and were forced to do horrendous overtime without being remunerated, we’d have the right to strike.

Suit – You’re clutching at straws.

CD – Bullshit. I’m saying we’d have a legal right to strike, and still keep our jobs.

Suit – Let me remind you of your behaviour over the last few weeks. I can count on two hands the number of times you refused to accept anyone else’s opinion, typically proceeded to then abuse someone and finish by walking out of the office.

CD – Yeah, but…

Suit – Hold on, let me finish. You’d then return 3 hours later, drunk and even more obnoxious. You also ended up getting you way. I’d say that counts as going on ‘strike’, just an immature version…like the little boy who picked up his ball and went home because he didn’t want to play anymore.

CD – Can you fucking blame me? I’ve got you’re fucking team of poodles suggesting harder retail, a junior writer who’s quite frankly illiterate, a coked-up Art Director and no other resources I could pull onto this job.

Suit – I didn’t say I blame you. I just said you striked.

CD – Which should be a legal option under those circumstances.

Suit – Maybe, but certainly not arriving back pissed and operating heavy-software. You wouldn’t get away with that in the factory.

CD – See you agree.

Suit – Agree with what?

CD – You just agreed I should have the right. Proves my point.

Suit – No I didn’t.

CD – I win. Thanks. We should be unionised.

Suit – You’re full of shit. You always fucking twist people’s words to support your argument, then refuse to discuss it further.

CD – That’s why I’m CD.