"You're looking very smart today!"
Of course I am. By choosing to wear a shirt and tie to work I generally find myself in a minority of one, and that’s just the way I like it. It would have started in the 1990s Silicone Valley era of happy cuddly hypercapitalism, this idea of an office where some idiot cycles past on a toy bike, wearing a novelty baseball cap with baggy T-shirt and shorts, shooting foam balls through hoops over the waste paper baskets while slurping on their delicious free coffee. It's the duplicity of all this that sticks in the craw. You work for a massive corporation, so why even pretend you're having fun? I wouldn't even address colleagues by their first names if I could help it. We're not friends.
It's work. You're not meant to enjoy it. That's why it's called work.
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