In the early part of this century a particular television show aired by the BBC went hugely global. This show depended largely on the comedy behind its realism, which was that of a setting in the office of a paper company located in England. The shows leading actors became global successes and can now be found permeating into the highest roles available in the movie industry. To the foreign audience it was surprisingly successful despite its boundaries; such as a heavy reliance on irony and satire that a lot of audiences sometimes fail to make sense of. To us at home, it became an achingly real counterpart to the many people within this country that work in the environment of an office.

The English office is a feral beast, one that I have recently just come to know. Inside it lurks a wealth and variety of strange and wonderful creatures. There is the office geek, completely unable to say anything of any interest. There is the office psycho, who looks as if they have broken free from the shackles of a straight jacket and spends the remainder of their days twitching nervously and growling. There is the office predator, the leering male who offers to complete the work of any female coworker and constantly hovers and flits in between each one. There is the office wide boy, who thinks he’s everyone’s best friend and constantly boasts of his own productivity. There is the office grafter, constantly stressed and moaning, who takes their work home and agonizes over every last detail. Then there are the ambivalent ones, the unhygienic ones, the comedians and those that are always sick. Almost always accompanying this host of wild characters is a strangely eerie managerial type who one often wonders how it came to be that they ever showed promise for such seniority.