Joe Doakes from Como Park emails:
A colleague at work wanted to chat about my weekend. I didn’t. But we’re friends, that’s what friends do, they share stuff about their lives, right?
We’re not friends. We work for the same employer. We are friend-ly, in the sense of getting along at work, but we don’t go to dinner at each other’s houses, birthday parties, bowling league. We’re “work friends” but not “real friends.”
And honestly, I don’t want to be. I suspect my work-friend’s political leanings do not accord with mine so the conversations I carefully avoid at work are landmines waiting to explode an after-work friendship. Depending on the work-friend’s level of butthurt, it could affect our work relationship and that might drag in HR, who nobody wants to see, ever, for any reason.
Does that make me stand-offish? Cold? Yep. Also wary, defensive, and suspicious. That’s life in the SJW workplace. There are no real friends. Only work-friends.
Sometime when I have the mental energy, I need to start writing the tales of the SJW workplace.