THE FORKIE PHILOSOPHER

I hope you noticed that the martyr is not working; a common characteristic of these pretenders. They spend just as much time telling everyone how hard they work as they do actually working. These are a very cunning species, common to almost all workplaces.

“I’ve been working here for, like, two years. It’s bullshit man. I work my ass off. Remember Hector, I was telling you how hard I work my ass off?”

“Extract” (2009)

In the wild there exist a plethora of devious animals, insects and marine life that mimic other species as a form of survival. Be that warding off predators or ambushing prey, these sneaky bastards are nature’s master illusionists! Each trickster adapts their camouflage to suit their required purpose.

Blending in with the environment could be used to avoid being lunch, or to make yourself a living booby trap; invisible to prey until it is too late. While these disappearing deceivers are part of most working environments, I am observing a slightly different fraudster.

These sneaky slackers aren’t content with mere camouflage, although vanishing is a signature move for them. Avoiding as much work as possible is only one aim of their ploy. They are more akin to the harmless critters who have cleverly disguised themselves to look like a much deadlier and thus less appealing quarry.

These guys/gals want the whole shebang; maximum commendation with minimal effort. An absurd desire for shirking while complaining about being overworked. If that isn’t paradoxical enough, there are at least two varieties of these pseudo company carriers:

• The deliberate con artist: these types know full well what they are doing. Perhaps they do it out of spite, or maybe they just enjoy the sport of it. The gratification comes from the successful cheat.
• The delusional workhorse: this intriguing variation genuinely believes their own bullshit! A bizarre self-delusion that they are underappreciated stalwarts. Any criticism is seen as senseless character assassination by nasty underperformers.

It can be very difficult to tell these two apart, and things get even more confusing when you stumble across a hybrid. This half-breed ends up behaving like a person with a split personality; which can be a whole other category all its own.

Split Personalities are those people who change their attitudes like the weather. One day they are carefree jokers wondering why you take the job so seriously. The next they are disgruntled and bitter, sowing dissent. At a different time, they are the diligent one, criticising other people’s low work ethic. I have worked alongside multiple persona people who can shift numerous times during the same fucking shift!

Every identity is played with conviction and only a small percentage can recognize the incongruency in themselves and have a laugh about it. Most will not appreciate being psychoanalysed by a smart-ass co-worker and will throw the diagnosis back at you with interest. Everyone has changes in mood, and whole attitudes can change over time. The split personality is something different, and if you have encountered them, you will understand clearer what I am getting at. Perhaps I should do a deep dive into this specific archetype in another post.

Let us return to our sports-car with the handbrake stuck on. The “I do everything around here, therefore I shall do nothing” enigma.

The beast of burden/bullshit artist combination is a confusing contradiction. The hypocrisy should be self-defeating, yet these charlatans will not be swayed by silly things like logical consistency. Try and dismantle their masquerade at your own peril.

When they are in martyr mode, they can be insufferable. Having to listen to a notorious bludger whining about being exploited would be hilarious if you weren’t the one that was picking up the slack for this wanker. Hearing their tales of hardship and woe can leave you questioning your own sense of reality if you’re not careful. “Maybe I am missing something” you might think during a moment of cognitive weakness.

When these specimens are in delusional workhorse mode they, much like their pure-breed counterparts, would very probably pass a lie detector test if asked about their daily grind. They have an uncanny knack for erasing any loafing on their part, while magnifying the idleness of anyone else. At any given moment they can regale you with a thorough list about the slothful sins of any and every workmate.

They can just as easy supply endless tales of woe regarding the underappreciated trials and tribulations they have endured. Not all the stories are made up; some are exaggerations, while others are the extremely rare moments when they actually did go above and beyond; these hen’s teeth tales work on a ratio of about 100:1 in comparison to anyone else’s contribution, don’t forget.

Then are the times when they fucked up and got left holding the bag. Once in a while someone else gets the drop on our scammer and they have to do a bit of drudge work. Whether deliberate or not, this reprehensible insult is burned into their very soul and will be retold ad nauseum as irrefutable proof of their victim status. One must never be so vulgar as to mention the innumerable times this cretin has committed the same betrayal with full awareness. How dare you recall any slips of the halo! Of course, their defence would be that time someone did it to them once (maybe more than once and a little exaggerated on each retelling) plus a few extra wrongdoings that may or may not be true. “I’m sticking up for myself!” They will declare.

Over the years I have noticed a fascinating feature regarding accuracy in the imposter’s bogus accounts. Yes, they actually did happen; only they happened to someone else. This Bowerbird of frustrating fables heard another person’s telling of being cheated and appropriated it for their own list of persecutions. Every report will be delivered, not just with a straight face, but with full-on outraged righteousness. Their expressions and body language will add credibility to the whole performance. This isn’t gaslighting per se because the spinner is falling for the ruse themselves – fucking bizarre!

The manipulation, at least on a conscious level, takes place when they have their feet planted back in the real world and need to switch into bullshit artist mode. In these periods of lucidity, our slacker has a better understanding of how much they get away with. This is the maintenance phase, where they bolster any weak spots in their charade and mend fences with potential antagonists.

If you pose no threat don’t hold your breath; none of this is done out of remorse. The guilt is merely an indicator that the weasel may have overplayed their hand and should cover their ass.

For all intents and purposes, it is still business as usual. From the exterior not much has changed. The fink will still be up on their high horse doing as little as possible, while moaning about their lot. The differences will be subtle: their demeanour will be brighter, and their contempt will be better concealed. They may even shock everyone with a random act of assistance. This of course will go into the biased memory bank to increase their own generosity account. Remember the ratio from earlier?

One act of service for these jerks is akin to some kind of noble sacrifice! You must keep in mind that mutually beneficial cooperation is a net-loss for these bastards after all. I’m sure there is a sad backstory that led them to be like this, and if it isn’t traumatic enough, they might just amp it up a bit in the retelling. They may also play loose and fast with history and/or plagiarise anything they reckon sounds useful. The effect of the story is more important than the truth.

These phonies have zero respect for validity, and they often chop and change yarns to suit the audience. Like a consummate method actor, they are immersed in the psyche of this victim, and the goal is to convince the listener/s of their cruel toil. The “facts” can be rearranged to suit the listener/s.

Similar to the pure con artist type, there is one temptation they cannot resist – bragging. The only way to fully enjoy pulling off a successful rort is a good gloat. This is probably the weakest point in the hoodwinker’s façade. They are standing there crowing about how little they do and how clever they are. In this moment of hubris, they seem totally unaware that they are confessing to the very same people who have to carry their slack-asses, while simultaneously listening to them whinge about how much they suffer and sacrifice – dickheads!

Whether they do it knowingly, or they sniff their own farts, these mind-boggling types will irritate you once you notice their racket. It’s one of those things that cannot be unseen. If you can’t find the funny side, it is best to limit your exposure to these phones because trying to enlighten them would be a futile and potentially perilous exercise. Trying to play their game could start you down the same deranged path they are on.

Good luck.