Office politics

TODAY, they had me down in the dungeon sifting through financial publications looking to see which ones contained profiles of business people.

This, on top of a project that had been kicking around for months, passed from exec to exec, and now given to me to compile in two weeks.

"Urgent! Urgent! Make this the priority," barked Arabella / Tamara / Georgina / Gabriella / Henrietta. This is PR, darling.

I have temped for more than a year since leaving my job in advertising. When I realised advertising wasn't for me, I thought I would try TV or film, which is where my interests lie.

I trained as an actress but couldn't handle the lifestyle: the unemployment, the luck of the less talented. I am shy and find it hard to be myself in front of people I don't know. So I am searching for something to give my life meaning.

Before my current PR hell, I worked for a week as PA to the CEO of a digital TV channel for kids. Every day, he'd spend two hours at the gym while I prepared his lunch.

On his return, he would stand in the doorway and bellow "bring the food" before sweeping into his office, whereupon I followed him like a servant, carrying the platters.

I have finally finished at the PR company, but not without making my mark.

On my last Friday, a twist of fate occurred when an assistant tried to put a call through to my extension from the Head of Corporate Marketing of their major client.

I barely had time to recognise the name before the assistant realised I was "just the temp" and far too unimportant to take the call. The name of this Head of Corporate Marketing rang a bell. It was my cousin, a high-flyer in the world of corporate finance.

I sent her an email and she replied. I then emailed the PR executive team with some relevant information, being careful to add a postscript note mentioning that the major client contact was a relative.

Within seconds of hitting the send button, someone was at my desk. "I can't believe it! Are you very close?" "Oh yes," I said. "Very close." (A lie, of course.) Word spread. A couple of other account execs came round, buttering me up and laughing too loudly. Panic had set in among them. "Oh my God.

Perhaps she actually is someone!" was the thought ticking over in their collective brain.

It got even better. It turned out that my uncle was a close personal friend of the owner of the PR company. I happened to bump into the owner on my way back from lunch and had a full conversation with her in front of the entire client team, who were almost exploding with rage.

Those who had barely looked at me for two weeks began including me in conversations - and even went out of their way to talk to me. They spent the rest of the afternoon continuing to suck up to me, extravagant with praise for the quality of my work.

I went home feeling good about myself, but realising I had learned a lesson about the way the world works. It is not just the acting business that functions in an unfair way. It happens in every walk of life. You only get on because of who you know, regardless of talent.

I hope too that the PR team learned a valuable lesson. That it is always best to treat everyone with respect, because you never know who they are, or who they know - even if they are "just the temp".

National Temporary Worker's Week runs 1-5 October and is organised by the Recruitment and Employment Confederation. It aims to raise the profile of the one million temps who work in the UK every week.

For more information visit www.tempweek.uk.com

Copyright 2001
Provided by ProQuest Information and Learning Company. All rights Reserved.