Boss
Hotel California
My supervisor has some sort of autism spectrum disorder, or at least I
assume he does. He is competent at his job, but his social skills are
greatly lacking. At first blush he appears normal, but you soon catch
on that he speaks almost exclusively in song lyrics. My first week on
the job I kept calling him Maurice because when we first met he said
as he was shaking my hand, “Some people call me Maurice.” I wondered
why everyone kept giving me strange looks when I mentioned that
Maurice had given me instructions–we actually have a cleaning guy
named Maurice, my supervisor is Stan. A few months ago the company was
sending me to a training seminar in LA. Stan was handing me the
materials and said, “Living it up at the Hotel California, such a
lovely place, such a lovely face. You can check out any time you like
but you may never leave.” This doesn’t make him a bad boss per se,
just very difficult to communicate with. Usually the things he says
actually fit into the context of the situation but are incorrect, like
the name thing. I hate when he starts with a Lady Gaga lyric, it
always sounds like he’s stuttering. I have found that if I really need
to get information out of him, I need to communicate via e-mail. The
song lyric thing only happens when he speaks.
A Crying Shame
My great, great uncle passed away last Wednesday. Both of my jobs knew
he was like a grandfather to me and both knew his funeral was this past
Saturday. Anyways, Saturday I was at his funeral. The family had
decided to have his wake and the burial on the same day. I was crying my
eyes out when a cashier at my other job had the nerve to text me and
demand I work her shift. I politely texted her back and told her was in
mourning and at a funeral. Her response “Well, it’s one now you can come in
and close for me at five.” Apparently my manager got sick of her
blowing up her phone so she gave the bitch my number. I am still super
angry about this.
The Hopeless Romantic
I work for a large franchise that sends its employees on “housecalls”
to fix computers. My boss is a fat, greasy butterball of a man who is
bald and smells of turkeys. In short, he doesn’t have a chance with
any woman. Period. Also, he’s not really much of a computer guy, he’s
just a manager. He knows a little about computers, but a lot about how
to run a business. Girls would probably dig him if he wasn’t so
disgusting to look at or smell. Anyhow, whenever we get a call from a
lady and he determines that he thinks she must be single, he insists
on going with the technician for the appointment. I have seen him shot
down so many times it is painful. He’s so awkward around women to
begin with, yet for some reason he tries harder the more beautiful/hot
the woman is. We have a client who I swear is Sofia Vergara’s
doppleganger. Once he came with me to her house and told me he was
going to stay in the car. 10 minutes later the client was standing at
her front window giggling and called me to take a look. I could
faintly hear music playing, and I realized my boss was making one of
his pathetic attempts. I went to the window–he had Peter Gabriel
blasting from the car radio and he was holding a piece of wood over
his head as he faced the window. Like he was trying to re-enact that
scene from Say Anything. And no, it didn’t work. It never does.
F Cancer
I had worked my ass off for a certain corporate dental chain for a
few years when my father was diagnosed with lung cancer in October of
2008. I live about 4 hours from where my father was living, and I had
to work quite often, so I didn’t have much time to go and visit him
when he was at home. When my father was admitted to the hospital
however, I would ask for some time off, just one day every couple of
weeks to make a long weekend and go visit him…I got some flack from
my boss for this, but nothing so bad that I would think anything of
it. When my father took a turn for the worst in July of 2009, my
stepmother called me at work (she would NEVER do that unless it was an
emergency) on a Monday and told me that she didn’t think my father
would make it through the night. I freaked out of course, and called
my boss, “C”, to let him know what was going on. He knew full well of
my father’s health situation and how far away he lived. He proceeded
to tell me “If nothing happens tonight, I expect you here at work at 8
am.” Meaning, if my father survived the night, I was to drive 4 hours
to be to the office at 8 am when I lef the office that day at 2 pm. I
agreed because I was so distraught. He then went on to explain that
when his son was born, he was back to work the next day and his wife
didn’t even get mad! Okay…you’re an ass, but this is my father who
is DYING…he didn’t care. He still wanted me at work the next morning
had my father made it through the night. I got to my dad’s house that
evening and was sitting with him, and then around midnight I called my
boss (got his voicemail of course) and told him that I would NOT be in
the next day because I needed to stay with my father. I never got a
call back from him. The next afternoon, around 1 pm, my dad passed
away from his disease. I called my boss to let him know and all he
said to me was, “So…you’ll be in on Monday then?” This was a
Tuesday. “Of course.” I said. That wasn’t the worst part to me. Had I
actually listened to my douchebag of a boss, I would not have been by
my father’s side when he passed away, when I was the only one that he
was asking for. I never regretted telling my boss I would not be in,
but I most certainly would have regretted it if I had went back to
work that morning. I just wish that if any member of his family is in
the same situation as my father was, that he is shown the same amount
of compassion that I was…
