Eish, the Guy…by Hagen Engler / Illustration by Jason Bronkhorst / 29.04.2011
Yussis, but the oke was a poes! He had, like, no people skills to begin with, but his email attitude was even worse! He tunes Gavin in this one mail, “Listen here, you fuck. If we don’t get that material by the close of business today, you can forget the whole event. I expect the PDFs by 5pm. Thanks. Mark”
But luckily Gavin doesn’t take shit. ‘Specially not from a fucken poes like Mark. And… and! Gavin is the owner of the media agency and Mark is some kind of designer. It’s temerity like you can’t even believe. It’s like a shop assistant at Musica tuning Jay-Z to move his arse on the new album.
Gavin doesn’t a fuck take shit. He knows Mark’s office is just two office parks down the road from him. The minute he reads that email, he stands up, sprints down the stairs, gets in his car and fucks off there to Mark’s work.
He pulls into the parking lot fi’minutes later, just as Mark is sneaking out, the fuckin’ weasel. Tunes him, “Oh, you think I’m a fuck, do you?”
And then just wails all over the oke, lank eloquently, and without swearing too much, which is always the worst way to get kakked on. Yisses, boet. Tunes, “I’ll have you know that I am the chairman of the media oversight board, which lobbied government to release SABC funds to contractors last year, your little company among them, thus ensuring that you have a job, sir.”
Sommer drops in the formalities, which makes it even worse!
“And even though you seem to have misunderstood the process, in that the material doesn’t come from me, but from my supplier, and that I am in fact your client and not the other way round, I am prepared to forgive that as the mistakes of an inexperienced industry novice.”
“What I am not prepared to forgive, though,” he tunes Mark, “What I am not prepared to forgive, is a lack of respect. I believe that is the foundation of many of our country’s problems. I’m sure you’ll agree that respect is what makes a man, as indeed does integrity, not so?”
And there’s this oke, with his laptop bag under his arm, his keys in his hand, blatantly not having the courage of his convictions, running away, his bottom lip starting to quiver… Eish, the guy.
Mark, his name was. What a doos. Tuning the biggest oke in the industry poes. And, like, you know all he was really trying to do was get his material, which he would’ve done if he’d been at least civil with old Gavin. Instead he comes on all strong, fronting up in a situation where he clearly doesn’t know the big picture.
I still scheme you should operate from a humility default, you know what I mean? You never know who you going to be dealing with.
He’s still grafting there, Mark, to this day. Still a designer.