The Daily Hassle

Laughs on the go.

office space



Working for your parents is not a joy. It doesn't even come close. In fact, chances are, that if your parents own a business, you will end up working for them the younger part of your life. If you’re Asian or Indian, this age range increases from 8 – 80 years old – and you will also come to hate that small part of your life.

 

At times, it becomes equivalent to working for Satan, Hitler or any previous dictator. You get yelled at (in front of people) while standing at attention and sometimes your parent give you orders on how to deal with said people.  You would think however, that there are perks in this business of working for your family and there is. You get three square meals, you are ridiculed (builds mental toughness) and be blamed for anything that goes wrong (taught responsibility). That's pretty much an Indian mentality. If anything is less than perfect, it's always your child's fault. 

 

There is no child protection services involved at any sage of raising an Indian child. Even though it closely resembles child labour. My dad once told me it’s different to child labour because I get a roof over my head and clothes to wear (which ironically get made by child labour hands since they are all made in china).

 

Parents somehow tell themselves that they are excellent at criticising you. Maybe they even tell themselves that their child needs constant criticism in order to raise your level of excellence. It doesn’t. It gives us god damn crippling anxiety and depression. This is why we don’t movie out of home until we’re deep into our 30’s.

 

I used to think my parents will go out of their way to constantly embarrass or humiliate

me when I'm are trying to deal with a client or customer. They would suddenly interject with:



"What the hell are you doing, son?"

" I'm.... helping out this customer?"

(but do you ever notice somehow, they never exactly tell you what you did wrong)

"You call that helping boy?" , they say.

"Yes?” I say.

"Really?” they say.

"I don't know anymore." I say.

It's at this end point where I get confused by my parent's tort and try to make sense of this disastrous yet phantom situation I've inevitably placed myself in. I look down expecting blood or shrapnel, but the only thing I see in your hand is an innocent pen - which gets snatched away from you as if it's a live grenade, and then I get pushed to the side as if I myself, is the said grenade waiting to explode.

 

This is where I began to become unsure about anything anymore for the rest of my life.


" It's at this end point where I get confused by my parent's tort and try to make sense of this disastrous yet phantom situation I've inevitably placed myself in. I look down expecting blood or shrapnel, but the only thing I see in your hand is an innocent pen - which gets snatched away from you as if it's a live grenade, and then I get pushed to the side as if I myself, is the said grenade waiting to explode."
 

To me, working in an office closely resembles the front deck of the Starship Enterprise of Star Trek.

There's the Boss  – The melodramatic conversation jumper that frequently goes off on tangent and the one person you wonder how they got to be Boss in the first place.

(Captain Kirk)

The first assistant manager also the guy who looks like he is not from this earth. Or country in this case. Usually a brown-noser.

(Mr. Spock).

IT support who secretly knows that without him, the business would sink (Uhura).

The First Aid Box which doesn't help since no one in the office knows first aid to begin with - or just call an ambulance if you’re working in the government.

(Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy).

The Asian guy who gets everybody's ass out of trouble also known as the competent worker who you still can't comprehend due to a cultural clash and everything you say being lost in translation.

(Sulu). 

The foreign white guy who coincidentally is the new guy who's trying to impress everybody but hitting them on the back hard and offering sausages.

(Chekov).

The go-to-guy you call when everything goes to high hell but he still manages to add to the problem and can't do anything about it regardless of how much power he has - coincidentally also the fall guy when things blow up

(Scotty)


The office tramp whom no one really knows what she's doing there in the first place but they all know who’s she’s doing a.k.a. everyone in this list

(Nurse Chapel).
 

Finally the guy that gets killed the first week of his job but no one really cares much because no one got to know him, what his name was and what exactly he did for the business.
(Ensign number 9).