There is something about accountants – I have always agreed with the universal opinion that they are a rather anal, falsely superior and boring-to-tears breed of people, who obsess about details and hence tend to lose sight of the bigger picture. For five years in hotels, the accounting department was my biggest source of frustration – managing to simultaneously prove to be my rescue and nemesis. I remember countless evenings when the auditor drove me insane for an outage of a paltry amount, or occasions when I had to plead for funding with a dry and unimaginative payables manager. Then there were times when I was rebuked for incorrectly recording transactions – which could be corrected by the flick of a button by the back office. The bookkeepers were also insufferably superior and condescending when asked for a clarification or for historical information. 

With this background, it was very understandable that I did not wish to subscribe to the same myopic view of most bookkeepers. Hence when deciding on a subject for further study, I chose to pursue finance. I would train to see the bigger picture, to plan, to forecast and to pierce through the window dressing that accountants indulge in. About six months into work and study, P asked me if I would like to grow into a finance led role at work. Excited by the hands on opportunity being presented to me, I eagerly grabbed it with both hands. I was now to monitor income, expenses, forecast cash flows and plan procurement.

Now, while all of this might sound truly important and wonderful on paper, reality of course is far from it. I was soon to discover that working for a small enterprise really means that every one does everything. So P, who is the CEO is merrily dispatched to purchase toilet paper, the director B gets us our weekly stock of coffee, Kym who is the marketing assistant also doubles up as our in-house photographer and graphic designer and I…get to be the bookkeeper.

When I took over the books, I rationalised that this was great learning. Some bookkeeping knowledge is vital for a good finance manager to keep those wily accountants in check. And practical exposure was far better than any coursework. And so I plodded through journal entries, debits and credits, booking expenses, taxation and payroll. I found myself furiously reading through the basics of accounting principles, automatically correcting seemingly inane errors made by everyone, checking bank statements and putting little lopsided ticks on all items in any list. I also became increasingly grouchy when people talked about making extravagant purchases or tried to be creative or impulsive.

Then there was the day that one of the practitioners; J came to me with a query.

“I think I have been paid for the same invoice twice. I have two deposits for an amount of $382.50. I would not like to be paid twice.”

“Hang on, I’ll look at it”, I said. “Ah yes, that was actually for two separate invoices that you had for the identical amount.”

J looked confused and worried. She gets stressed out easily. Sighing, I took out all the payment records, bank statements and invoices and explained it to her. Finally she went away – shaky, but convinced.

Silently, I congratulated myself – and resumed with work. In ten minutes though, I had encountered my next obstacle. We had an invoice for $350.08, the director B, had rounded it off and paid off $350.00. My books would not balance anymore – I was out by an inane sum of 8 cents. Cursing, I called up B. He was delighted to hear from me – for all the wrong reasons.

“Shroottee”, he cried. “Great! I have been looking at the books – could you please makes some small changes?”

“Sure”, I offered, unsuspectingly.

He then proceeded to detail out how to effectively undo two weeks of completed work, and also meant some additional tasks. Cagey and annoyed, I made some grudging notes.

“Oh and by the way, I did notice that we paid J a sum of $382.50 twice – are you sure that is correct, or maybe we entered the same invoice in twice?”

The details of those transactions were still fresh in my brain. I rattled off invoice numbers and dates – and reassured him that they were indeed correct transactions.

“So you are certain that we did not pay her twice?” he re-affirmed. 

Throwing my hands up in despair, I wanted to say, “Bugger it all! You don’t want to pay her the $382.50, she does not want to accept it; so why don’t we just forget about it? Pay it to me instead!”

Instead I kept silent. I deserved a Nobel Prize for this. I tried to strategically change the topic.

“B, could you please pay out 8 cents more on XYZ invoice?” I asked, nicely.

“8 cents?!” he roared in outrage. “But that’s a silly amount. Why should I?” 

I was desperate now. “I’ll even bribe you with 10 cents, if you just pay out the 8 cents please. My books will FINALLY balance.” 

His resonse was lost in hoots of amusement. I did not care. It was awful to be in the shoes of an accountant. Somewhere in the back of my head, I heard a drowning roar of collective bookkeeping laughter.

This must be divine justice – or accounting vengeance!