Back in the early-mid 80s, I was looking for a job. I had just worked 10 years for Bell Canada, and 3 1/2 years for IBM, both in downtown Montreal, both multicultural-bilingual workplaces.
A job agency had found me a temporary part-time job at a Quebec-based very well known company as a receptionnist-mail-clerk, again in downtown Montreal. A few employees there were from English speaking descent, most were bilingual, but a few were French-speaking only Quebecers, in all about 70 employees in a sky-rise office that would be my co-workers.
It was Fall, and I had a collection of tweed, wool and cord skirt and jacket ensembles to wear with tailored blouses, vests, matching wool kneesocks and leather penny loafers, a very British-European look for Autumn.
A few weeks after being told that they would keep me as a permanent employee, my immediate boss, the head Accountant, called me in his office early one morning. His own boss, a very English speaking Controller, was out of town on business, so I wondered what my own boss wanted.
After making me sit in his office and closing the door behing me, he explained that the way I dressed was not acceptable. I would have to buy some dresses and hose and high-heels, and had 2 weeks to do so or I would be fired.
I was so stunned, I could barely believe what he was saying. He made me repeat what he just said, and sent me back to my post. I had to assume he was serious.
Still in shock, I felt I had to talk about this with somebody, and the person I could most relate with and considered a friend was the President`s secretary (personal assistant), so when she came to pick up her mail, I asked her if I could talk to her some time during the day. Seeing how upset I was, she made me come to her desk during my coffee break.
At her desk, I told her what just happened, and was still in shock and I cried. She asked me if it was true that I had laughed at my boss. I said that I may have had a frozen smile on my face only because I could barely believe what he was saying. I told her that even if I wanted to, there was no way I had the money to spend on a whole new wardrobe in 2 weeks, and could not walk with high-heels, not being used to them. She told me not to worry and to go back at my desk.
When the Controller came back, he came to see me and told me not to mind what my boss had told me a few days earlier and assured me that I told the right person about it.
Soon, my boss was transferred to a plant in Ontario, where I was told the worst of working conditions of our company were to be found there. I could hardly see my boss there as he could barely say hello in English even if he wanted to.
A few years later, somebody quietly told me that my ex-boss who did not like my knee-socks and flat-heeled shoes had commited suicide. I did not have it in my heart to rejoice at the news.
No comments:
Post a Comment