Co-worker: 1, Charlie Harris: 0. That's how it felt at the end of every day during my first office job in Hong Kong. My female co-worker, a twenty-something local, would arrive at the same time as me each morning but left … well, I never knew when.
No matter how late I stayed she'd always outlast me.
Such endurance no doubt reflects well on a staff assessment sheet but when it comes to work-life balance, it is a total fail. But, hey, this isn't France, it's Hong Kong - the working week rules.
I've spoken to colleagues of all nationalities about this obsession with stubbornly staying in the office until the last manager leaves.
In one job, the directors regularly arrived two hours later than the staff, but always stayed on into the evening. This schedule, coupled with their executive glass boxes, no doubt intimidated underlings to work long and hard.
But why should we stay unnecessarily late when Hong Kong has so many diversions, whatever your tastes, that must be infinitely more enjoyable than spending your evening staring into a computer monitor while being starved of human interaction?
