The POETS Club
Jake LaMotta, in an interview, once explained why(to his mind anyway)boxers embrace after a bout. Part of it is a matter of sportsmanship of course, acknowledging that it is, after all, "just a game", but LaMotta said this is "because they're just so glad it's over".
Hmm. That's kinda how it is with the work-week, at least at the place where I work. People don't necessarily hug each other on Friday at 5--after all, we weren't fighting each other all week, at least not usually(though we do often 'spar' with our clients it seems, and not always get the best of it)--but they are all very glad it's over, all the same. Friday at 5 makes us a jubilant bunch, as we exit the back door and slide down that dinosaur(so to speak)to our cars- to our freedom(well, for 48 some-odd hours anyway). Yabba fucking dabba doo....
However I spend my Friday evening(well, within reason- barring some catastrophe or something)I consider it a celebration- even if it's just plopped in front of the TV with the remote in one hand and a bag of Cheetos(or, depending on what I was watching, maybe something else) in the other.. Another week of work bites the dust and another 48 hours of my-time awaits me. One guy I work with calls that The POETS Club. POETS is an acronym, for 'piss on everything, tomorrow's Saturday'. For that matter, POETS can be a 2-day celebration: piss on everything, tomorrow's Sunday works well too. Some weeks you need a double-header as far as that goes..
The POETS Club can also be expressed in the following poem:
Me and Mike, ve vork in mine.
Holy shit, ve haf good time.
Vonce a veek ve get our pay.
Holy shit, no vork next day!
(Not sure where that's from but it's pretty apropos here..)
So anyway, every Friday at work, some reference to POETS Club is made. Somehow it helps propel you to 5 o'clock. From there, you're on your own. I must say, even though the nature of the work I do is not exactly a barrel o' laughs(I work in a gov't relief office, thus we get the complaints)I do enjoy the various personalities I work with. After 37.5 hours with them though, it's nice to see them fading from memory for the time being as another POETS Club commences.
Man, I thought it'd never get here. But it always does.Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend..
Hmm. That's kinda how it is with the work-week, at least at the place where I work. People don't necessarily hug each other on Friday at 5--after all, we weren't fighting each other all week, at least not usually(though we do often 'spar' with our clients it seems, and not always get the best of it)--but they are all very glad it's over, all the same. Friday at 5 makes us a jubilant bunch, as we exit the back door and slide down that dinosaur(so to speak)to our cars- to our freedom(well, for 48 some-odd hours anyway). Yabba fucking dabba doo....
However I spend my Friday evening(well, within reason- barring some catastrophe or something)I consider it a celebration- even if it's just plopped in front of the TV with the remote in one hand and a bag of Cheetos(or, depending on what I was watching, maybe something else) in the other.. Another week of work bites the dust and another 48 hours of my-time awaits me. One guy I work with calls that The POETS Club. POETS is an acronym, for 'piss on everything, tomorrow's Saturday'. For that matter, POETS can be a 2-day celebration: piss on everything, tomorrow's Sunday works well too. Some weeks you need a double-header as far as that goes..
The POETS Club can also be expressed in the following poem:
Me and Mike, ve vork in mine.
Holy shit, ve haf good time.
Vonce a veek ve get our pay.
Holy shit, no vork next day!
(Not sure where that's from but it's pretty apropos here..)
So anyway, every Friday at work, some reference to POETS Club is made. Somehow it helps propel you to 5 o'clock. From there, you're on your own. I must say, even though the nature of the work I do is not exactly a barrel o' laughs(I work in a gov't relief office, thus we get the complaints)I do enjoy the various personalities I work with. After 37.5 hours with them though, it's nice to see them fading from memory for the time being as another POETS Club commences.
Man, I thought it'd never get here. But it always does.Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to attend..
posted by Roger U Roundly at 11:19 PM
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