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If you look at any profession in any industry since the dawn of time, you’ll realize a constant, yet painstaking reality: we’re constantly forced to do things for work during our free time. Now, I’m not talking about putting in a few hours on a random Saturday because all of your attention during the week was directed to your new match on Bumble. I’m talking about being assigned the role of “birthday and retirement party organizer” for your entire office despite maintaining the lowest profile imaginable. Or participating in your company’s community service efforts with a lingering BAC of .32 from the night before. Things that are not necessarily mandatory but you’d look like a huge dick and/or weirdo if you skipped out.
For consultants, it’s team dinners.
Imagine working in a small, windowless conference room with the same team of people every day for 12 hours straight. The room can go hours without saying a word. The only sound is the ticking clock and occasional cough or depressing sigh. But mostly it’s just the disgusting synchronicity of your keyboards. You mentally check out of work around 6 o’clock, and plan out your evening in your head. You’ll drive back to the hotel, get undressed, scroll through social media for approximately 45 minutes, go to the gym, pray you don’t see any of your team members at the gym, order room service and fall asleep before it comes. But then someone breaks the silence, physically making you jump as they cut the air with their monotone voice. “Soooo, where are we going to dinner tonight?”
There’s a reason why the final four on the cast of Survivor inevitably go mentally insane. Or why the people on planes stuck on the tarmac freak out so hard. Or why the divorce rate is so high. It’s because we’re not meant to spend every waking hour of the day with the same people or person, doing the same thing, and providing the same value (read: none). So when Robert asks where we are all going to dinner tonight, here’s what’s going through my head:
There’s nothing more I would less rather do than go to dinner with you all tonight, this week, or pretty much ever. I know for a fact that Martin will recommend we go to The Steak Place over across the highway, which is literally called “The Steak Place.” You know I’m a vegetarian, right? I’ve told the team this about 25 times? But nooooo one listens to me, do they? (#analystlife). I know if I try and get out of this dinner, they’ll think I’m weird and not a team player. I’ll try and think of excuses, and fast. I don’t feel well? Used that one yesterday. I have more work to do at the hotel? I just told the team I’m done with my assignment and need more work to do. FUCK. There are only so many times I can use the excuse of video chatting with my boyfriend before they start thinking I’m a sex addict with a Skype fetish. We’ll go to The Steak Place because my recommendation to do dinner at a MYO Salad shop near the hotel will be met with blank stares into oblivion or no stares at all – just straight up ignored. As we pile into the same shitty rental car, Sandy will make a joke about us all being sardines and we’ll all awkwardly laugh as we pretend not to notice our bodies are touching each other. At the restaurant, Robert will order a double whatever-makes-me-look-like-a-DILF and promptly order another one five minutes later. We’ll talk about work for approximately 37 minutes, which is also how long it takes for Sandra to decide on what she wants. “APPS? APPS? Does anyone want APPS?” No, Sandra. Just order your fucking Chinese Chicken Salad with extra ranch so I can miserably lay alone in my hotel room in peace.
An hour and a half later, Robert is borderline drunk and talking about his divorce proceedings as we all look at him with the awkward-sympathy stare that can only happen at these sorts of gatherings. Martin will try and sad-story one-up Robert and start talking about his estranged daughter and how he thinks his son is a pan-sexual. This is about the point where I’m ready to kill myself. I’ll signal “garçon,” as Robert refers to him, for the check even though Sandra still doesn’t have her food yet – she’ll send it back at least four times during the meal.
It’ll be 10 o’clock by the time we leave the restaurant. I’ll keep thinking about how much I hate my team the entire 45-minute drive back to the hotel. My guilt of not going to the gym will annoy the fuck out of me. I won’t be able to vent to anyone because all of my friends are in different time zones, which makes things worse. I’ll find a bit of release screaming into my pillow about how much I hate my project, my team, my job, and my life at the current moment, as I slowly drop into a REM cycle without removing my makeup, clothes, or shoes.
So for the sake of what’s left of our sanity, can all of us consultants agree to eliminate team dinners from our vernacular all together? My nights alone are worth more to me than your acceptance + my per diem combined. We need to stop this trend before it drives us all into 9-5s. #SayNoToTeamDinners. .
Respond
I cannot fucking waittttt for Artificial Intelligence to mature. I want it to take my job. I’ll train the god damn thing myself. Give us the red pill. I want to be unplugged from this shitbag lifestyle. Get me the fuck outa here lol
Dude I agree so much with this. I can’t wait for the post work world to get here. This shit sucks.
I just got paid 9k bucks working off my laptop this month. And if you think that’s cool, my divorced friend has twin toddlers and made over 14k buck her first month. It feels so good making so much money when other people have to work for so much less. Read more this site…. www.Jobzon3.com
Joe Rogan? Is that you?
Yes, Happy? How Can I help you my son?
No one wants your shitty salad place, especially on an expense account. The Steak Place sounds alright tbh.
eating chop’t right now pgp
can’t forget to mention how fun it is when you’re the youngest person in the group by 15+ years and everyone thinks it’s necessary to tell you what they were doing at your age.
Hits real close to home.
Irish exit, every time.
After reading a few of your columns, I’m honestly surprised everyone didn’t just act like they weren’t going to dinner, then went without you.
The peace of ditching the team for dinner alone at the bar is oddly satisfying
Oh you get to go out for food rather than order seamless every night to your desk as you stare into a black hole of a model until 2am praying bonus season is near…
I usually just tell my team that I need to workout after work to relieve stress, and won’t be eating up much later. I offer them to join me working out and that’s usually enough to get them to leave me alone
I really think that it depends on the frequency of these team dinners. If they’re every night, then yeah sure you can and should excuse yourself from attending. No one is going to write you a bad review because you didn’t attend a team dinner.
But if they’re like once a week, what’s the harm in sucking it up, breaking your routine and just going with it? I’m sure you can find a $40 kale salad to bill your client for.
Completely agree with this. My time after work is sacred and the last thing I need is a coworker wanting to go rip shots on a Tuesday when we need to be on site at 7am the next day.