In any job, the morning meeting is usually a waste of time. The typical routine is as follows: the team leader leads the way and chants “Hello, dear colleagues of Department X! Hello! Hello!” Three rounds of rapid, loud applause follow. Some managers go so far as to sing along.
One of Zhang Wei’s jobs was selling guihua jiunianga kind of rice pudding flavored with osmanthus flowers, in a supermarket specializing in fresh produce. Every day, his superior took advantage of the morning meeting to display his contempt for the inhabitants of the neighboring province of Henan (regarded as crude and backward, very stigmatized in China, editor’s note.). He prided himself on selling quality rice, noodles and oils, which you certainly wouldn’t find there. Zhang Wei was not from Henan, but he hated his leader for that.
Dream of a civil servant
The 12345 Public Call Center where Zhang Wei worked was housed in a public administration building, and the cafeteria holds a special place in his heart to this day.
At lunchtime, you could choose between two starters, a meat dish, two meat dishes with vegetables, two vegetable dishes, rice, noodles, two desserts, two soups, two types of fruit. In the snack section, there were always three daily specials. We could help ourselves as much as we wanted. The opposite of one of the subcontracting companies where he had cracked down, where there was a sign reminding us that we were not entitled to more than one portion of the meat dish.
The operators of 12345 and the civil servants ate in the same cafeteria, except that the former paid 10 yuan for their meal, compared to 4 yuan for the cream of the administration. There were two separate queues, and the operator queue only moved forward when there were no more civil servants. Who had the right to see their bowls filled to the brim, while private sector employees had to make do with a thin layer of rice sprinkled with vegetables.
In the stress room of the 12345 offices, there were two treadmills. No one used them, nor the punching bag. On the other hand, the three massage chairs, two in good condition and one out of service, were under attack. The call center operators didn’t care about massages: they just wanted to sleep. They hated weekends, when civil servants didn’t work because the cafeteria was closed.
Toilet my love
Zhang Mei had a passionate love affair with the toilet. In some jobs he was only entitled to one day off per week, and as the cleaning ladies always had their full weekend, on Friday evening they left high piles of toilet paper which acted as a barrier. The best toilets were scented and had seats (rather than squat toilets, common in China, editor’s note.) where one could doze off and sleep. Every time he wanted to escape his reality, he went to the bathroom. There he was scrolling through Bilibili videos (a kind of YouTube that is very popular among young people, editor’s note.) one after the other.
-He spent more and more time in the toilet. Three of his resignations were on the throne.
This is the case of the latest, the 19th of the name, when Zhang Wei left his position in an online sales company. One evening as he took off his headset, he told himself it was time to leave. The last failed sales had given him a surplus of courage, he had to take advantage of them.
“The hours, from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m., had taken their toll on my hard-won professional stamina. To avoid the embarrassment of having to announce my resignation to his face, I slipped away to the bathroom. There, I found a free cubicle, I locked the door, and I started chatting with my manager via messages. After some pleasantries and polite thanks, I managed to tell him frankly that I wanted to leave. She asked me why, I explained politely. She told me to do what was necessary.
“As I was still on probation, I had no notice to give. I turned off my computer, returned the equipment, filled out two digital forms and left as I came, without even saying goodbye to my colleagues.”
Who can get involved?
“Life seems like endless torture,” comments Zhang Wei. It never stops, there is no relief in sight. When I’m at the office, I often think: this life will last another 30 years or more. Why go to work every day? I can’t make sense of it all. But 5 or 10 minutes later, here I am again fighting. Like a zombie, I put on my clothes, I squeeze into a crowded subway, and my day begins.”
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