Welcome to the seat of power. This is the command head quarters from which my work-based machinations take place. I do enjoy the work place. It is a play ground where I have access to all manner of different appliances to keep those important fuel levels topped up. Naturally when I am at work I am not with my primary source of fuel although I keep her plugged in by reason of text messages, e-mails and the telephone. This certainly helps get me through the day but I am not able to turn up, perform my job and then go home. If I did that I would be starved of fuel and consequently in trouble. I regard work as a place to acquire fuel first and secondly the place where I perform my role in the business. A number of our kind do not bother with work. These low level narcs occupy their days in a different way by obtaining fuel in the home environment. They do not know what they are missing but they are at the low end of functioning and therefore would not be as effective in a dynamic environment like me. Then there are the mid-level narcs who do work but they forgo the medium-term fuel gains for short-term acquisitions. These members of Narc Club will never climb high as they tend to move from job to job. Usually this is because when their fury is ignited they lack the discipline to withdraw or use it as a shield and instead go no the warpath. They are not as high up as someone like me and therefore they are at risk of being fired. It is a temporary set-back because they have the guile and manipulative charm to secure another position soon after but they disappoint me. Securing a new position of employment takes time and energy, time and energy which could be far better applied to securing fuel.
Now, with my kind and me in the upper echelons of Narc Club the workplace is a huge fuel refinery. Lots of different people. Lots of different clients and suppliers. Repeatedly changing and therefore it is like being sat with a conveyor belt of appliances drifting past ready for me to hook up to me when I see fit. Work is a marvellous environment for gathering fuel. There are so many opportunities to shine and gain admiration. Post great results – fuel. Win new work – fuel. Deliver a report on time and within budget – fuel. Close the deal – fuel. Make savings to maximise profit – fuel. Dangle a promotion in front an ambitious associate – fuel. It does not stop there. So many delicious ladies to flirt with and draw into my influence. They are elegant and smart, wearing pencil skirts and blouses, hair tied up and high heels worn. I shower the compliments around and they always respond – fuel. Praise someone for working long hours – fuel. Praise my secretary (who is in love with me) for her output – fuel. It is a wonder I do not explode. You would think this would be enough with all the opportunities to show off my success and so many different people to expose to my brilliance but it gets even better. I know, it is fantastic isn’t it? Supplier not come up to scratch? Time to let them know with a blast from the furnace of fury and harvest more fuel. Sub-ordinate slacking? Berate them and in flows the fuel. Set unachievable targets for the pool of associates and watch them tear their hair out in anguish – fuel. Make that secretary cry because she created too many typographical errors – fuel. Ignore that sexy junior who I took into the disabled toilet for some special attention and see her perplexed expression as I close the door in her face – fuel. Everywhere I go there are fuel lines it is a wonder I do not trip over them. I have my own personal fiefdom where I arrange the players as I see fit. The secretaries, the juniors and the associates are all organised to do as I please. I set them against one another and the fuel just flows. They fawn over me seeking my largesse and there is yet more fuel.
I am no fool however. The job must still be done and thanks to my manipulative charm, lack of remorse and mind set of the end always justifies the means my team always delivers. That is all the higher-ups care about. Anybody who is stupid enough and I mean they really are stupid if they try and cross me at work by running squealing to the higher-ups results in the end of their career. My boss Julia (who secretly fancies me) always backs me up because she knows I could do her job tomorrow and she is grateful that I have not plunged the knife into her back. I have not done so because I know she is blowing a board director and he has her back. She in turn has mine. So long as we deliver I can do whatever I want in my personal fiefdom. This means I can give the drudgery to others, make them toil whilst I focus on gathering my fuel and collecting the glory. I maintain a coterie within the workplace and they are so hungry for success they will turn on anyone I wish to character assassinate. Oh I do enjoy work, the wheels within wheels. What is it that I actually do you might wonder ? Well I will leave you to work it out.