Work/Mates(CPlatt) WORK/MATES.
BY CHRIS PLATT.


Mick waved his empty pint glass at his friend. They were both rather drunk and it was nearly time for home. It was getting late and they had work at the office the next morning.
‘One for the road?’ Mick asked.
‘I don’t think we should. We’ve got work in the morning.’ Tom said.
‘It’s my round.’
‘In that case, we’ll have one last drink.’ Tom laughed.

The two friends had met at work, almost five years ago. They started at the office on the same day, and had hit it off immediately. They had the same sense of humour, love of beer, music and films, and quickly developed the same distain for the red-tape and corporate waffle they encountered at work.
The next morning Mick arrived at the office wearing his usual polo shirt. Stifling a yawn, he mumbled alright, everyone? and took his seat at his desk. Tim plonked a mug of tea down next to him, before taking his own brew to his own desk. Tom and Mick sipped their tea with almost as much gusto as they’d downed their beers last night. A few beers was a good night out, but they couldn’t survive the day without a several strong cups of tea.
A couple of hours into the day, Jason, one of the sales managers stopped by their desk. Wearing an expensive suit and carrying a briefcase, he sighed dramatically.
‘Hey, guys, how’s things? I’m rushed off my feet. I’ve got meetings all morning, a presentation this afternoon, and then dinner with a client at El Perro Negro, that tapas place in town. If the evening goes well, it could bring in a lot of business.’
Tom noticed that Jason always asked how they were but never paused for them to reply. It was like the work emails he received that stated hope you are well. Tom always thought, they didn’t actually ask how you were doing, but just rather vaguely hoped you were well.
‘Nice one, mate.’ Mick said.
As Jason sauntered away across the office, Mick and Tom rolled their eyes.
‘He wants to try doing a proper day’s work.’ Mick said.
‘Sitting in meetings all day, eating free sandwiches, that’s not a proper job.’ Tom agreed.
‘Not forgetting dining out with clients.’
‘Yeah, while we do all the work.’ Tom replied.

Early that afternoon, as Mick got back to his desk from making a cup of tea, an email went round. A hush descended on the office, as everyone read the email that had been sent to all the employees. Mick read the email message from the managing director. As part of the new restructuring, there was vacancies for team leaders on each department. Any staff that were interested in applying for the new positions were to submit their C.V. by the end of the week. Tom shook his head. There was no way he’d be applying for that. From the chatter he over-heard, most of his colleagues felt like him. They didn’t want the extra responsibility, the added pressure, for, no doubt, the bare minimum of pay increase.
Tom turned to Mick.
‘Have you read that? Why on earth would you want-’ Tom started.
‘I’m thinking of applying for it.’ Mick said.
‘Really?’
‘Yes, I think it’s a good opportunity.’
Not quite knowing what to say to his friend’s sudden ambition, Tom said, fair enough, and carried on with his work.

That evening, when they were settled at their usual table in their local pub, Tom asked his friend.
‘Do you really want the promotion?’
‘I really do. I think it’s a chance to better myself, to make something of my career.’ Mick said.
‘Mate, if you want to better yourself then fair play, but sucking up to that lot isn’t the answer. That place isn’t a career, it’s a job. If you want to step up, then I’d go to college, get some decent qualifications, then make your mark at a proper company, in a decent industry.’
‘At least I’ve got some ambition.’ Mick said.
Tom was tempted to explain that he wasn’t have a go, wasn’t mocking his ambition or aspirations, but said nothing, not wanting to make the situation worse. He was about to change the subject, and discuss the weekend’s football fixtures, when Mick got to his feet and shrugged into his coat.
‘I’m getting off now.’ Mick said.
‘I was gonna get another round in, mate.’
‘I’ll see you in the morning.’ Mick replied.

The next morning, Mick arrived to the office wearing a smart shirt, instead of the polo shirts most of the clerks wore. As he sat down at his desk, Tom spoke, unable to help himself.
‘What are you wearing?’ Tom asked.
‘It’s just a shirt.’ Mick said.
Tom was tempted to comment that it was a shirt with cuff-links. The last time Tom had worn cuff-links was at his nephew’s christening.

From that point on, there was a change in Mick. Tom found him more aloof and distant than before. Where they used to confide in each other about everything, Tom sensed that his friend was suddenly playing his cards very close to his chest. Where they used to sit and chat, putting the world to rights, debating what was on their minds, now Tom would rant and Mick would simply nod, feigning agreement. When Tom or his other colleagues grumbled about the company, Mick would clam up, wanting no part of the conversation.
Early the following week, following a short interview, Mick was granted the job of team leader for their section. Mick approached what was now his department, hand on hips, grinning.
‘Well, guys, I got the job. I’m now the team leader.’
Tom joined the others in congratulating his friend, but he couldn’t help thinking that he had gained a team leader, but may have lost a friend.

The next morning, Mick reported for work wearing a shirt and tie, and carrying a briefcase. Without thinking, Tom and his colleagues, ribbed him, asking if he was going to a wedding after work. Tom couldn’t help himself. He pointed to Mick’s briefcase.
‘What’s in the case? Your sandwiches and your mobile phone?’ Tom laughed.
Mick shook his head, and pointed to the door out to the corridor, asking if he could have a word. When they were alone, in the corridor, Mick spoke.
‘Can you not speak to me like that in front of the staff, please?’ Mick said.
‘Sure, yeah, sorry, mate.’ Tom replied, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
Something about the way his friend said the staff really didn’t sit well with him at all.

The following morning, Mick arrived to work looking like a city-centre executive, carrying his briefcase in one hand and a cup of take-out coffee.
‘Good morning, guys.’ He said. ‘I’ve got meetings all day but if you need me, call me on my mobile, okay?’
Tom wondered quite what they would need to speak to him for. Despite the creation of the team leader position, nobody seemed to have much of a clue as to what these leaders were supposed to be doing, apart from sitting in meetings all day.
As midday approached, Mick came out of the boardroom and back to his desk.
‘We’re going to try that new burger place at lunch-time. You fancy it?’ Tom asked.
‘I’ve got meetings all day, so won’t be able to join you.’ Mick replied.
‘Ah, right. Want us to bring you something back? We could get you a burger or some fries.’
‘No, it’s fine. These high-powered executive meetings usually have a buffet lunch provided.’ Mick said.
Tom said nothing, turning back to his computer, and busied himself with his work.

Early the following week, Tom decided to offer the olive-branch, and see if Mick fancied going for a drink. As their finish-time neared, and Mick returned to his desk after a meeting, Tom decided to ask the question.
‘Do you fancy going for a pint tonight, Mick? We’ve not had a mid-week drink for a while.’
‘Yeah go on then. Why not?’ Mick said. ‘See you in the pub at the usual time.’
Tom was surprised that Mick remembered the actual time they used to meet at. It felt like ages since they’d got together for a few beers. It would be good for them to catch up, even if it would be rather strained at first. He was sure that the conversation would be fine, once the beer was flowing.

As Tom waiting for Mick to arrive in the pub, his mobile phone pinged. One new message, from Mick.
Sorry, not gonna be able to make it. I’ve got work stuff to do. I’ll be on the laptop until gone midnight.
Tom took a long swig of his pint, before replying telling him not to work too hard. He was tempted to reply suggesting they meet up another time, but told himself to take the hint. He had a feeling Mick was hardly devastated to be missing their planned get-together. Tom finished his pint and headed to the bar for another beer. He would have a pint and watch the start of the football on the big screen, and try and forget about the distance that was growing between him and his friend.

The next morning, Tom asked how he got on with the work.
‘Yeah, I got a lot done, thanks.’ Mick replied.
At that moment, Jason, the sales guy crossed the office. He patted Mick on the back warmly.
‘Good to see you last night. I told you the tapas restaurant was good, didn’t I? The ablondigas are just divine.’ Jason said.
‘It was wonderful. Thanks for the invite.’ Mick said.
‘No worries, sorry it was short-notice.’
As Jason swaggered away across the office, Tom stared at his work-mate in disbelief. Mick seemed oblivious, engrossed in catching up with his emails.

Over the next few weeks, Mick and Tom grew more and more distant. Mick would talk down to Tom and his colleagues, using phrases that made it clear that he had a high opinion of himself and a low opinion of them. When one of his work-mates made a mistake, Mick waved a hand and spoke in a patronising way.
‘You got it wrong. You made the wrong call. I don’t enjoy saying that. No manager likes telling the staff they got it wrong.’

A week later, when Tom make a mistake with a delivery to one of their customers, it was his turn to be chastised. When Mick got off the phone with the client, he marched over to Tom’s desk.
‘I’ve just had the managing director from Cartwright’s on the phone about the wrong pallets being delivered. He was going crazy.’
‘I’m sorry, it was my mistake. I got the orders mixed up. The wrong pallets will be collected and the right cargo will be delivered by the end of the day.’ Tom said.
‘Just think about what you are doing, will you? Just think!’ Mick yelled.
‘I’m sorry.’ Tom said, quietly.
‘Maybe if you weren’t out on the beer every night you’d be able to concentrate. You should try staying in on a week night.’ Mick snapped.
Tom reeled as though he’d been struck. He would pop for a few drinks during the week, but nothing that would affect his work. And, until recently, Mick would have been with him.

One morning a few weeks later, Mick was called in to the director’s office. Revelling in the attention from the management, he dashed into the office and closed the door behind him. One of his colleagues called out to Tom.
‘Have you heard what’s going down?’ She asked.
Tom shook his head. She pointed to the director’s office, where Mick was in talks with the top brass.
‘They are demoting Mick. He’s back to being a pleb, like us.’
‘Really? How do you know?’ Tom asked.
‘It’s an office. There are no secrets in an office.’ She smiled.
Half an hour later, Mick came over to the department, tugging his tie loose.
‘Just to let you guys know, I’m no longer team leader. I never wanted that job anyway.’ Mick said.
Nobody spoke. The only sound was the tapping of the computer keys. Mick sat down at his desk, and carried on with his work.
‘Fancy going for a pint tonight?’ Mick asked.
Tom looked at him for a long moment before speaking.
‘I think I’ll leave it. I try to stay in during the week these days.’

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