I was reading an article recently about how the younger generation are not having the opportunity to immerse themselves in the social side of working life, owing to the culture of home working. I found myself nodding enthusiastically and agreeing wholeheartedly.
I also found myself reminiscing about my youthful and carefree days, working in a high street branch of a building society in Greenock, West Scotland. Easily the best days of my working life, or should that be, the best days of my social life.
Not having a care in the world, it didn’t really matter what day of the week it was. If the team decided it had been a hard day, come 5pm the doors shut, we would efficiently balance the books of the branch. Then, ideally by 5.15pm, we would be sitting in the pub across the road in full building society uniforms, sipping our drink of choice and laughing about our day.
My work teammate (shall we call him Calum, for that was his name) was my partner in crime. He would always say he was ‘just coming out for two pints’. But you see, I knew if I could entice refreshment number three his way, there was no going back and we were ‘out, out’!
Now, back in those days, trench coats were very much the look. We are talking late 80’s, early 90’s. This attire, alongside a blue, pinstripe branch uniform, did not really align itself to the dress sense of revellers in the local nightclubs. Desperate to continue our evening, but also very self-conscious of our coats, we had the brainwave to remove them and post the coats through the letterbox of the branch we worked at. Absolute genius, we thought!
You can imagine the surprise on the branch manager’s face when, on opening the post box the following morning (ordinarily a Saturday), to find a few items of post…and two trench coats! Not the kind of find he would have been expecting. We tried to explain: “Ah, Mr McGarvey, yes those. You see, they are ours. We can explain”. He looked at us, shook his head and proceeded to open the mail.
If we decided the next watering hole required a taxi, as ever in full uniform and trendy trench coat, we would make our way to the nearest taxi and make ourselves comfortable in the back seat. Each time, the taxi driver would spot our uniforms and enquire where we worked. Of course, we would tell him. Every, single time we could almost hear the cogs of his mind moving, delayed for about five seconds then the questions would follow: “Listen boys, I have a question about my mortgage”. Or, “Boys, i have this savings account”.
One weekday evening, the bold Calum and I sang karaoke (in our uniforms) to the likes of the Walker Brothers ‘The Sun ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore’; rhythmically slapping our pinstripe thighs, just like Top of the Pops wannabies. By day we were banking experts, and by night the world was our oyster. Magnificent days and for the younger generation who think it’s marvellous working from home, you don’t know what you are missing!
PS, For Calum’s 21st birthday, the branch team organised a sing-a-gram ‘police officer’ to serenade him in the customer area during working hours, wearing very little (the sing-a-gram, not Calum. He was wearing his uniform, of course. But no trench coat). Not quite sure we would get away with it these days, and that’s probably for the best.
