CLANCY OVERELL | Editor | CONTACT
Things often feel bleak at the Betoota Direct Orders Of Outdoor Furniture (DOOF) head office.
Not necessarily because of the rise of online competitors, or the founder and CEO’s very public in-house infidelities that appear to have shaken the business to its core.
But because this place is mostly made up of time-stamp punching lifers who are just waiting out their 25 years until they get the medium priced wristwatch and a complimentary set of Ottoman chairs that have somehow been negotiated into the employment contracts as a compromise to staff bonuses and long service leave.
Even though the windows are wide open with a mild September breeze blowing in, and talk of management putting on 2-3 Friday arvo beers for each staff member down the road at the underwhelming Irish pub frequented by similarly humourless corporate drones – the office halls of Betoota DOOF HQ are as low on energy as they always are.
That was until the Assistant Head Of Sales, Stacey Beeharry (37) came steaming in from her string of morning meetings and a 1 o’clock lunch with some clients.
As 4pm arrives with fuck all but a few conversations about tonight’s match between Manly and Parra between the only two blokes who support Manly and Parra in the office – Stacey brings a much needed burst of energy to ramp up the TGIF atmosphere.
“Who’s coming to the pub” says Stacey, almost like she’s rounding up cattle at a campdraft.
“Hope you got your drinking boots on!!!”
With her dormant girl gang of receptionists and junior sales assistants stirring from their dormant slumber, the office is brought to life with the clip clop of corporate heels that will be replaced by runners for a silent train commute home to the suburbs in roughly two and half hours.
With her special floral outfit made up of radioactive fluro colours sending an electric energy through the room, Stacey is now pushing the mob like the Man From Snowy River.
Within minutes the Friday springtime dress had the whole office up and about stretching their shoulders as they made a Congo line for the pub.
At time of press, the new intern Jaxon was all but incinerating his chances of a full time employment contract by telling his devout Hillsong superviser Bradley about the time he and his mates threw pool balls through the windshield of a police car during an out of control house party in Betoota Ponds.