Angela: The Assertiveness of...

THE ASSERTIVENESS OF ANGELA

"&;#8230;and we do have a dress code that must be observed at all
times."

For her first day, Angela wasn't doing too well: major hold-ups on the
underground, no bus at the end of the line, and now her new boss was
bleating about her clothing.

"I'm sorry Mr Haskins, I really thought that smart casuals would be
all right. I'll wear something more formal tomorrow." There, assertive
yet polite: just the way she had learned in classes.

"Let's get today over and done with, shall we? Look, smart casuals
would be okay, but don't you have something a little less revealing
that you can wear over that top? None of the men will get any work done
if you're wandering around like that."

Angela looked down at herself. The flimsy black blouse shimmered in
the artificial glow of the florescent tubes. Her slim torso was clearly
visible through the material, but the even blacker bra covered anything
that might have been construed as obscene. Except for her nipples: she
was proud of them. They weren't exactly on display - not really, but
they did have a tendency to point at people, especially when she was
flustered (and the bra was, after all, only made of fine silk).

"I could always stick some Elastoplast on them, if that's what's
worrying you, Mr Haskins." She meant it to be a joke rather than a
flippant remark. Too late, she realised her mistake.

"This is your first day, and we did have fifty-odd applicants. Just
remember that." Haskins stood and handed her the leather jacket in
which she had arrived. "This is better than nothing, I suppose. But
you'll be feeling the heat by the end of the morning. Come on, I'll
introduce you to the crew."

She followed him out of the cubbyhole of an office and into the large
open plan workspace of D &; G Associates, City Traders. The general
buzz of dealers doing business came to an instant halt when Haskins
called out: "Recess, new staff to introduce."

All that could be heard was one lone voice, stage whispering: "Buy the
bloody lot. Worry about it later." And then, when the phone clanked
down in its cradle: "Jeeze: look at those legs!"

Haskins continued. "This is our new admin. assistant, Angela Browning.
I'm sure you'll all get to know her soon enough, but I thought a quick
introduction would put her at ease. Angela will be here to assist you
with your expense claims, payroll queries, stationery
requirements&;#8230;" and so he went on for some time. The man was a
complete and utter bore.

Ten minutes later, Angela found herself seated at a small desk in a
tiny office; only another two passed before the office had become a
meeting point for a number of the younger traders. Ten or more milled
around the doorway, all acting as if this was their regular caffeine
spot. She knew the type from reading magazines and the tabloids: Essex
man wearing Paco Rabanne, dripping sovereign rings and
medallions.

"So, Angela," said one young man, holding out his hand to her. "I'm
Craig. Where did Haskins find you?"

Angela ignored the hand. "Speedy Recruiting," she replied. The
collective smell of aftershave was overwhelming. She yearned for the
natural essence of pheromone.

"He's never really gone for the 'biker chick' look. Mind you, the
studded jacket is a nice touch." He grinned; his expression nauseated
her.

"It's covering my nipples. He didn't like them standing up."

"Ah! Very witty."
She could feel her sarcasm quotient rising, but she really didn't want
to lose her grip. Remember the mantra, she told herself: 'assertiveness
does not equal belligerence'.

"Oi, Craig. Don't hog the office. Let someone else in on the show."
This one was even worse. The odour was just too much. He barged in.
"Hi, I'm Bob."

"Well perhaps the pair of you can just bob out of my office and let me
get some work done."

Craig glanced at Bob. "Oh, well, if it's like that we'll just
er-"

"Yeah, we'll just get back to work. Sorry."

Suddenly there was peace - inner and outer.

Belligerence: sometimes it worked very well. Angela remembered what
the tutor on the assertiveness course had told her: 'The best way to
avoid confrontation, but to still win, is to confidently reason with
the other party without resorting to overtly aggressive means'. But
then the tutor was a man; what the hell did he know?

She inwardly sneered: inferior, every one of them!