Buying the Toilets

On the first day of my assignment, my WRSC manager, Mr. Bakshi*, greeted me at the reception of a big building near London Bridge. He took me to a meeting room to brief me about the assignment.

'How long do you think you would be required onsite?' Mr Bakshi asked.
'Sorry, I have no clue. I guess 6 months, probably?' I blinked.
'No. It might be less than 3 months. Is that OK with you?'
'Yeah! Not a problem. That's fine.' I smiled.
'I don't give a damn about it even if you're not OK with it.'

Briefing was over. I was left with a group of non-WRSC vendors to contribute to the project.

On the third day, I found myself in a meeting room with my WRSC colleagues, a set of well dressed gentlemen in dark suits with tie as advised by Bakshi because that's the way he wanted his team to be. The ties didn't match the shirts and some guys looked so odd because in their part of the world a suit was tailored only for a stationmaster at the railway station.

The client manager who was addressing the meeting was unhappy because somebody was using the toilets improperly. It was obvious that someone was too lazy to lift the toilet seat before he pulled his dick out and was urinating all over it. The client manager didn't say that somebody from WRSC did it but he was giving a heads up.

'Thanks Rob! Do you mind? I need to talk to these guys for a minute.' Bakshi ushered the client manager out of the room. He locked the door behind him and turned back to us. 'What the fuck is wrong with you bloody assholes?' He was addressing a group of 30 associates. 'Don't act like monkeys or animals. I can't tolerate this.' He screamed as if the "criminal" had urinated on his head. 'If you don't know how to pee, don't pee. Go to the London bridge tube station, pay 20 pence and pee. I don't want any of you to use the toilets in this office.' He sounded like he had bought the toilets for himself. There were quite a few senior programmers, Business Analysts, Test Managers, Technical Leads and other associates. Everyone blinked at each other. Nobody even moved a finger. Pin drop silence. 'Bloody idiots!!!' He concluded.

I wanted to grab him by his blue tie and pull him on to the table, crash my fist into his jaw and screw the red white board marker up his asshole. By the time I was prepared to do so, the meeting was over and I saw everyone including Bakshi walking out to his respective desks. They looked as if they had just finished discussing the documentation for the next iteration.

And that was just the beginning...

*Bakshi - a name that I stole from the book "One Night @ the Call Center" written by Chetan Bhagat. I am a great fan of Mr. Bhagat. His character Bakshi was probably the most suitable match to describe my WRSC manager. If anyone by any chance has any discomfort with me using this name 'Bakshi', you know whom to blame.