5.01.04 | The Workplace

Since the beginning of the year, I've been doing some full-time freelance work at a small media company called Pipsqueak. There are about 15 people in the office and the atmosphere is very relaxed. For the past two months, I've been having quite a bit of fun writing for a project involving the television show, Stargate SG-1. Five of us produce a magazine that accompanies a special DVD series that will be sold in the U.K. and France (think Time Life - sign up and get one book, or in this case, a DVD, every two weeks). If you want to know anything about Stargate or that delightful Richard Dean Anderson, I'm your man.

Anyway, it's been interesting to work in a different country. Following are a few observations.

This hasn't been very hard to adjust to. As long as I pay attention to context, I can usually figure out any strange words. Here are a few that come to mind: bung (to toss), full stop (a period), fortnight (every two weeks) and "oh, for fuck's sake!" (golly, this sure isn't going well (loosely translated)).

No surprise, but the Brits love to drink tea. I'd say four or five rounds of tea are made each day from the "kettle." Of the 15 people in the office, only three don't partake -- me, Justine the Aussie and Kirsty the S. African.

About a month after working at Pipsqueak, the crew asked me if I wanted to go to the Mayflower for lunch. It seemed like a good idea, so I agreed. Little did I know that the Mayflower was, in fact, a proper British pub.

This was the first time I had ever gone to a bar during work hours. In modern corporate America, one would never do this. Just try to imagine telling your American boss that you're going to a bar for lunch, you will be drinking beer and you'll be gone for an hour, maybe two. It would never happen. (Well, it might, but it'd probably be your last day at the company.)

But this is Britain/Europe, and occasionally going to the pub on a Friday afternoon is still acceptable. So I happily joined my co-workers in a round (or two) of near-room-temperature Carling. That night, I told Claudine all about the pub lunch and how she's missing out by working at an American company with her 10-hour work days.

Being the only American in the office, I seem to have become the magnet for all questions even remotely related to the United States. And much to my chagrin, I am not a very effective knowledge base.

Who made up the Jackson Five? Will Bush win the election? Where's Lexington? How old is Dick Clark, really? These are but a sample of questions I haven't been able to answer.

Of further note, Justine, my co-worker, is from Australia. No one ever asks her any questions about the land Down Under. She never hears, "Are window washers called window washers in Australia?" or "How does the Australian electoral system work?"

Then again, when was the last time you were ever concerned about something Australia besides Fosters, kangaroos or Steve Irwin? << REWIND