The cold war

Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow -

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I almost feel sorry for the buttons, as sorry as one can feel for an inanimate object that is. All that inappropriate touching they're subjected to mustn't feel good. Up, down, up down, up, down...and no happy ending, just dissatisfaction. I'd not want to be a workplace air conditioner for any amount of money!

I used to work in an environment that wasn't climate controlled; it was hot by day and cold at night with a few brief moments of temperate conditions in between each. It was out of my control to change and simply dealing with it was all I could do.

I'm not a huge fan of the heat and despite being able to (mostly) cope with it through necessity, I'd prefer not to have the need. So, in later roles I was lucky enough to work in temperature-controlled offices and I thought it was great...until I realised that the cold war rages in such places and that I was to be thrust right into the middle of the battle.

Within those office environments I was in roles where presenting professionally was essential, that meant a suit and tie most days, and because the offices were climate-controlled and the air conditioning system was on all the time the temperature setting was critical.

The men in the office, all suit-wearing like me, were comfortable with a set temperature of 21-22°C. However, as is usually the case, the office contained the fairer sex, women.

Most of them were in administrative roles rather than client-facing, I'd say forty five of the total seventy staff in all, so their dress code was a little more relaxed; still professional, but...well, the focus wasn't on them presenting in a totally corporate manner. This meant there were many very short skirts and little tops with string holding them up. I know, it sounds more like a fashion parade right? It was.

Don't get me wrong, they looked spectacular and I greatly appreciated their efforts to look so sexy good, but with so few clothes on those nutbags lovely looking women got cold with the temperature set on 21-22°C and so 26-28°C is where it got changed to regularly; that's why I felt sorry for the buttons...Up, down, up down, up, down as one of the fellows or ladies adjusted the temperature to suit their needs.

And there, ladies and gentleman, is the exact cause of the office cold war, and it's not a war anyone is likely to win, not completely anyway...and yet the battle rages.

My logic was always, ladies, you can put a cardigan on if you're a little cool. Logical right?

Nope, they "had the right not to have to wear cardigans in the office" apparently, or much else for that matter. I once suggested that the fellows should have the right to strip their shirts off and walk around semi naked. Of course, that didn't work so well...I mean, the girls probably wouldn't have minded some of the chaps doing so, but not all were...well, some were...let's just say, out of shape. Ok, it wasn't a good fucken suggestion at all, I know, but come on...I'm bloody cooking over here!

The air conditioner would get put up and down so many times I'm surprised it didn't break, and no real solution was found. Someone suggested a temperature of 25°C as the happy medium but it didn't work, it was still too hot or cold. Bonkers really.

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The situation was never resolved at that office; I've left now, some years ago, but I assume the cold war is still ongoing, air conditioner skirmishes that occur frequently, fierce in nature. Is there even a viable solution? I think not...certainly not in that office anyway.

Have you had experiences of this nature in office environments? Are you on the hot or cold side and how has the war rolled out for you? Feel free to chime in with some comments, battlefield stories and thoughts below if you have any you'd like to share; I always respond.