The Ex Factor

Not too long ago, I met up with the ex, whom I hadn't seen in quite a while.

She's still the same person I remember her as -- apart from longer hair, she still looks the same. She's still talking way too rapidly and gossips too much for her own good.

I had the best four years with her and I realise that day just how much I miss this witty and endearingly bitchy woman.

Yet, one thing is very certain: Though I miss the ex-boss, I'm never ever going to work for her again.

Sure, she's never once raised her hand to ketok my head and berate me in the office, while a concerned colleague is filming away.

In fact, she's never raised her voice -- or even an eyebrow -- at me when I was her subordinate.

The only thing that was ever raised, in my four years with her, was my pathetic salary.

But I'm sure I will never want to go back and work for her, though ironically, it was the workplace that had built this very love, respect, and friendship with her.

Not that the ex had asked me to join her again, but if she had, I would turn her down in one minute, the way I would say no to earnest salesmen on the street asking me for "just one minute".

I firmly believe that colleagues can become friends and I don't think friends can become colleagues -- which is the direction the ex-boss and I have taken.

The next few days, I started thinking about all my other ex-es.

I've had my fair share of working with, and for various ex-bosses, given that I had an early taste of working life, selling bed sheets and pillow cases at Takashimaya when I was 15.

These ex-es come in all shapes and sizes and hail from all over the place -- some of them, I believe to this day, had either come from the wilderness or had managed to smuggle their way out of hell.

While I'm thankful I hadn't worked for bosses who made me feel like I was a slave -- oh, wait, I take that back. I almost forgot about Alvin Bong (surnames have been changed just for the heck of it).

I mean, while I haven't had abusive bosses, I have encountered very nasty ones.

Yet, I'm thankful for such ex-es.

Every time I leave one nasty boss, I take along with me what little goodness they have left in them.

One particular egoistic boss reminded me how vital it was to be humble.

Another nasty bitch brought out patience previously unknown to me, through her mean, manipulative management style.

And then there was that one particular fella who thought he was so damn funny and made me a joke target at meetings, only to realise he was training me to be sharper and quicker with repartees.

And so on, and so forth.

And the miraculous thing is, when I think back of these nasty ex-bosses, I no longer detest them, though I once had.

I tend to forget just how mean they once were.

Instead, I feel a sense of zen triumph that I had survived their nasty antics.

I guess this is an in-built Defence System in male species - we can easily let go.

As I pen this, I hope that those who are still suffering under nasty bosses, will learn to manage their situations.

Find a way that can turn your plight into something that works for you.

And hopefully, when it's time to leave that nasty boss of yours, you will take with you whatever goodness that's left in that idiot, and leave him to be consumed by his own negative energy.

My. Look who's the nasty one.

Our jobs are at stake

God damn it, but it's true - our jobs are at stake.

But no, it's not because hordes of foreigners are arriving by bus, being handed out new IDs, and taking over our jobs.

On the contrary, it's a select group of our countrymen who might jeopardise our jobs. Yes. Your job. My job.

You see, some of us tend to have an I-can-do-better mentality when it comes to commenting on other people's jobs.

For instance, everyone has something to say about teachers.

Aiyoh. How come the teacher never make time for remedial lesson? 
Aiyoh. How come the teacher make you go for remedial lesson when you're already so loaded with homework? 
Aiyoh. How come the teacher never discipline my kid?
What sort of teacher are you? I should really ask the school to transfer my kid to another class.

Fair enough, teaching is a profession that affects our children. So stakeholders - be they parents, guardians, aunties and uncles sitting idly at HDB void decks or the fella who sells kachang putih at Cathay -- have a right to comment and criticise teachers.

So, maybe let's move on to chefs.

Aiyoh. How come the soup is cold one?
Aiyoh. You call this medium rare?
Aiyoh. The food like that also you dare to sell? I can cook better lor.

Fair enough, F&B is a profession that affects our health. So stakeholders, well, you get the idea.

And so on, and so forth.


Not surprisingly, I've read a fair share of attacks on my profession.

I'm not getting defensive -- yet.

But I am getting on the offensive.

Very often, it's easy for us to exist in our comfort zone and make comments about other people's jobs -- without thinking how difficult it is for those who're slogging away.

Aiyoh. So slow lah this news company. 
Aiyoh. How come their studio guests talk so much rubbish one?
Aiyoh. Why that presenter's hair looks like chewed carpet? 

It's not nice to hear disparaging things about our profession. Or the profession of anyone, for that matter.

Just because waiters, teachers, reporters, chefs, drivers, hairstylists make their job seem easy doesn't always mean it really is.

And even if you really can do a better job, so what? Go and do their job lah, why don't you?

We don't expect pats on the back when the job's well done.

But if something -- anything -- crops up while we're on the job, we get a pat -- on the cheek.

And it stings. 

I'm definitely happy with justifiable comments especially if they are constructive and come with suggestions on how we can improve.

But if it's plain criticism stemmed from a sense of superiority, then I think it's not nice.

Perhaps, the next time we are on the verge of criticising other people's work, we should really ask ourselves if we are THAT good at our own job first.