Does Anyone Use Their Brain Anymore? (or, How HR Locked Me in a Stairwell)

I seriously wonder if the only qualification for working here isn’t simply having once been a BIBIC out-patient.

I needed a new pass, or rather I need a picture (of yours truly) on my pass, but my current pass is an ‘old’ pass because it doesn’t have my picture on it. Does anyone else see the endless possibilities of cyclic redundancy here? “I’ve arranged for you to pick up a new one from reception, I’ll need to change the pass number on your record” … note distinct use of the future tense (I know, it’s subtle; but concentrate – it’ll come to you).

On my way to pick up my new pass from reception, I went via the back stairwell (a common practice, if a little ‘frowned’ upon, which requires a pass in order to exit), only to find that I couldn’t exit said stairwell at the reception level, because my ‘old’ pass had already been deactivated. Now I’m embarrassed, because I’m in a stairwell I’m not supposed to use with no picture on a pass that doesn’t work. I started to feel like a terrorist (because if I was a terrorist, I’d almost certainly never put my picture on a pass – it’s erm, how I’d live my life in the shadows?). Needless to say, hails of derisive laughter (well, not quite – more like a disgruntled office worker tut or two) followed my non-terrorist tapping on the glass in the door of the stairwell I’m not supposed to use as I wafted my picture-less pass that doesn’t work.

So now I have a ‘new’ pass, only it looks just like my ‘old’ pass because it doesn’t have my picture on it! I’m just waiting for the next call in my continued spiral to hell that says I need a new pass because my old pass doesn’t have my picture on it…

… I now of course have two pass cards – the new one for the access, but not the time-recording machine (or should that be “…dung machine”?), and the old one for the time recording but not the access. Seriously, there simply aren’t enough beds at BIBIC to adequately express my disappointment…

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