After lunchtime and when everybody was back at work I took out a Stella and poured myself a pint of beer on my desk. Up to that moment in Invesco there was a secret consensus that they can do as much sexual harassment and sexual degradation and innuendo to their heart's content against me. They wanted to vent out their sexual hate and the Human Resources were complicit to this because I had my doubts about getting hold of that scrawny and puny head of the Human Resources and give him a Reality Factor and therefore under his favour the obsessive-compulsive nuicance was persistent.
So, if they can cross well known boundaries about sexual harassment, I cross an equally well known boundary at work, not bringing alcohol in the premises.
Basically Invesco knew from high up that there is a scam going on behind my back, the rumour that I'm a secret hooker and enjoyed keeping the backstabbing active and hiding the source from me.
Anything else they can confront with sanity. So, the matter of alcohol in the premises was dealt with by the rules. I was given a caution in my files, a disciplinary penalty of no annual bonus and was asked if I want counselling. There wasn't any tongues wagging for long or any obsession.
What I know now is that Henley in particular is heavily Excalibured on the subject of sex. A lot of ugly blokes and frustrated women within Invesco were trying to survive on the subject of sex, that's to say reassure themselves that they are winning and that they are dangerous to the environment. So, they were venting out their backstabbing gossip because they want to reassure themselves that they are sexy and winning. Especially that super fat woman who was friends with the Mr potato head at the Groundfloor office.
It was so bizarre for the Head of Human Resources to backstab me like this just because i had binned Mark Rowberry. Well, if he worries about Mark Rowberry he should give him a blowjob himself.
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