S Tiga

I have officially concluded. Me and the men who rise to the S Tiga appointments just cannot get along. All along, I was of the misguided notion that the Tigas [henceforth I will use this term, lest women understand] were like the supreme beings around in operations. I.e. when you are stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea, the commanding Tiga steps in to save your ass and collect a Letter of Commendation in the process. Still, your ass is saved and for that you are thankful.

But I've been informed by a trusted source that the role of a Tiga is not to be the Ops Champion aka Numero Uno aka Top Dawg, but it's more of an administrative role to assist the Big Boss to run the joint. This may encroach into discipline, regimentation, operations, training etc., but isn't any one of these roles specifically.

Everyday we learn something new. More educational when it's from a colleague whose future wife and current fuck buddy are in the same night class as him. Restecp. [typo intended. you oughta watch more Ali G]

My first Tiga and me were the proverbial cobra-mongoose colleagues. There was no right and left turn to exit a messy looking situation, it was always head-on head butt. My headset has flew off a few times but I take it under the big umbrella of "tough training".

Quotable quote:

"Sir, relax I know what I'm doing." [on my cat cx no less]
"YOU DON'T TELL ME TO RELAX MOTHERFUCKER! I TELL YOU TO RELAX!" [this is where the headset gets plugged out and flung with reckless abandon. Sorry mate, I know it nearly took off your head. Too late to apologize.]

My Tiga now is for lack of a better word, undependable. More importantly, there is no kan jue that he has your back. After yesterday, I need to add the word "childish" to the already broad list that encompasses this being. Since, I love to make lists, here goes:

1. Apparently, to everyone else in the wide world, if you cannot strike a balance between your numerous meetings, briefings etc and your operational manning requirements, you are labelled as "Bad at Time Management". In fact, some go further to lecture you that this is the 3G way and you haven't the right to complain cos the next man can do it. Doesn't apply to my Tiga. He's got a meeting, "take me off manning". Got a brief? "Take me off manning". So, your primary job no longer is your primary job. Your secondary job becomes your primary job.

2. When the Big Dog had to be away for an extended period of time, legend has it the Tiga runs the joint. However, here we saw the ultimate example of "how not to sign anything on behalf of the Big Dog such that I may be implicated or held responsibility for anything in future". This fear of responsibility really disgusts. Of course I always have a personal anecdote.

"Here sign this, Section 2."
"Hang on a sec while I read it. Sir ah, I actually need to sign Section 1 and there is a way out of this for me if Big Dog puts his mind to it. He needs to sign Section 3 and this issue is smoke in the wind"
"Urm. Really? I haven't read it. **** asked me to ask you to sign Section 1 and return it to her"

WTF! You're implicating me in something when you seated in your bloody high and mighty appointment can't even bother to read a document you're asking your subordinate to sign off on?

3. I have been on a 3 week break from the computer system at work. Again, Murphy has it in for me and I have been granted a reprieve from painful eyes and OpenOffice for a good 20 odd days. But it also means since I have no platform to do work, my work is encrypted within my account [which is locked out], I can't meet certain deadlines. Last week:

"Shanker, where is the report? It's already April"
"Urm, you do realize my computer is locked out right. I can't even give you any figures or statistics because without the previous month's figures I am none the wiser"
"You mean you can't use someone else's computer to do it?"
"What have I been saying? It is encrypted under my name, I can't do shit with someone's account. Ok ok, tell you what, send me last month's report, let me expertly doctor it and send it back to you"

Deed is done within the next 15 mins. The smart dude sends a mail out to me [wtf? how will i read it when my account is locked?] and my direct superior stating that my attitude is quite apalling and I didn't put any effort into this whole thing. Particularly Para 38.

Amazing thing? Para 38 aint even my purview. I rest my case.

4. Childish. After bullet no. 3, the fresh week is born. Thank god I haven't been paired with the Tiga when telling 400 km/h jets to not knock into 100 km/h transport craft, or I'd have dropped dead at the indecision, the incompetence and the general shaky atmosphere that permeates thru the environment when the Tiga's on seat [so much for operational numero uno urban myths]. Yesterday however the chain was broken and with only one chopper and one more slow mofo coming in to land, I was stirring the piping hot char siew rice darlin Raymond Tang got for me. Expertly mixing gravy, chilli, egg yolk and barbecued pork bits is a talent, especially when you're 8 stories high and watching the red sunset disappear off the western coast. I had just put spoon to rice, scooped and it was headed to my mouth when some squeaky rat phuck went:

"Can you eat after the charlie has landed?"

Stunned a bit. But cos I don't show irritation or annoyance to those specifically egging me to it, I popped the styrofoam box and just waited for the damn fella to land off. The rest of the blokes weren't too adept at hiding their emotions though. I swore Nachos would have questioned the Tiga even before I had. And Poison had a lot to say about it in the still of the night. Me with my beef noodles, she with her coffee and biscuits.

More importantly, even excusing the obvious childish "I'm marking you" behaviour that is the Tiga towards me now, exudes the absolute lack of thinking about the aftermath.

What if I had turned around and gone "Why?". Just that simple question would have jammed him, thrown the situation to mayhem and got the Tiga looking like a fool in front of 2 other subordinates. But I didn't. Cos I understand the concept of face. You obviously don't. I've done you this favour you turd, it won't happen again though.

Ok, that was too fast a factual descriptive passage suddenly turned into furious rage. Oooooooooh saaaaaaaaaaaaah. Ooooooooooooh saaaaaaaaaaaah.

If you call me or pick up a call from me this week, be prepared for the wazzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzup a la classic Budweiser ad.


No comments: