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Death by Paper Cut


Today I started my new job. I was merely one of forty eager recruits beginning the company’s 3 week induction course. First, we got our employee photo ID badges on lanyards which we need to wear at ALL TIMES least we forget how good looking we are or how to spell our names. This employee ID badge is pretty powerful. It not only gives me FREE bus rides in town but, if swiped correctly, it also gives me access into the building, the company elevator, the toilets, my office floor, and it enables me to moon walk. If I swipe it incorrectly it locks me out of the building/ my office/ the elevator/ all toilets for 3 minutes while simultaneously transporting me into an extra terrestrial space craft. Therefore I swipe it with utmost care.

Part of the induction course is to do extensive in-house training (and by ‘in house training’ I obviously mean that they 'try to break our spirit.') We spent the morning discovering the reasons why group ice breakers were originally invented; to make you feel socially awkward and cultivate your antisocial tendencies.

This afternoon’s hot topic was Health and Safety (insert vociferous communal groan and gnashing of teeth here). We watched a DVD in which an unnaturally enthusiastic narrator informed us that our new workplace is systematically attempting to snuff the very life out of us via a myriad of office techniques such as: electrocution, fire, mail bombs, repetitive strain injury, swine flu, cafeteria food, the existence of David Hasselhoff, and – possibly the most ominous of all – death by paper cut.

I wish I was kidding about the existence of David Hasselhoff, but sadly he is a genetic fact. I’m also not kidding about the paper cut death. The trainer told us in her most serious training tone that “the company is legally required to record EVERY injury that occurs on the premises for 3 running years, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. Even the most innocent-looking paper cut can get incredibly septic and life-threatening!”

She continued on and on about boring Health and Safety until every single person in the room had lost the will to live and was trying their utmost to induce ‘death by paper cut’ as the only means of escape from the torturous lecture. Then, when we thought things couldn’t get any worse, we had to write a Health and Safety test! Ironically, without even trying, I did get a paper cut on my thumb from the Health and Safety test paper. But when I tried to report it as per the legally required ridiculous law, the lecturer told me there was to be no speaking during the test. I fear the gangrene is already setting in...
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