The Coupe Deville

My boss once asked me if he could borrow my car, a restored 60 Coupe
Deville to take a couple of “clients” out for lunch. In retrun I
could use his new Porsche 911. So I tossed him the keys at 11 am FRIDAY
and I got his keys to his Porsche.

He didn’t come back until MONDAY AFTERNOON. The car wreaked of perfume
and booze and had women’s panties under the seat. I found out from someone
later that he took a couple of hookers to a nearby town for the weekend.
The miles he added were only 50, but I put 500 on his Porsche and took all
four tires nearly bald, (haha) and the panties I sent to his house to
his wife with a thank you note from the MOTEL for his business.

Lets just say he won’t ask to borrow my car again!

Paperclips

I worked for a small accounting firm. I don’t know how the boss was
entrusted with other people’s finances when she did such a horrible
job handling her own; she was always teetering on the verge of losing
her house and the office rent always ran several months behind. I made
her pay me in cash after having several paychecks bounce.

She was always so desperate for money that she would do utterly
ridiculous things to get it and often made a total fool of herself
begging to clients. However, it never occurred to her that the best
thing she could do to bring in income was to actually WORK; she spent
so much time flitting about town with her husband that her actual
billable hours were nonexistent; the hours that my coworker and I
were able to bill out pretty much carried the business and kept us
afloat somehow.

I saw her do some pretty stupid things but the worst by far was the
time she freaked out over my coworker paper-clipping some documents
together to send back to a client. She screeched that those were HER
paperclips and how dare we waste her money; she ended up wasting more
than an hour digging through the box of documents frantically trying
to salvage all those paperclips. She literally wasted an hour of
non-billable time to save five cents worth of paperclips instead of
using that time doing billable work.

She did things like that all the time and then whined that she wasn’t
making enough money. When I left she was on the verge of losing her
license due to years of unpaid payroll taxes. Between that, kiting
money between several local banks, and randomly billing customers for
hours that she didn’t work because “we need the money more than they
do,” I’m honestly amazed that she’s not in prison yet.

Discrimination 101

So I had this dumbass of a boss. He was a manager. I was the trainer.
After he hired a long string of people that were obviously unqualified
for their positions we had a little chat:

Me: I think you need to be a little more discriminating about the
people you hire.

Boss: I can’t do that.

Me: Why?

Boss: It’s illegal to discriminate. You should know that if you want
to be a manager.

Nice Smile

When I was a freshmen in high school I got an under-the-table job
working for a school sports photographer. She seemed like a really
sweet woman when I first met her and the job she gave me didn’t seem
to be challenging.

All I had to do was take down the person’s name, school, team, and
write a short description of what they looked like (so that we could
later match them with their picture). We went through 200-300 kids a
day.

Since everyone on a team wore the exact same thing I would write what
was most noticeable on a persons face. “Small eyes, long nose, chubby
face, pixie nose, ect”

About halfway through the sheet she would look over at the sheet and
then hiss “What are you doing? If a parent see’s that and think you
are insulting their child they will complain! Be nicer with your
descriptions!”

I didn’t think I was being insulted but she was the boss. So I’d ask
her what I should put instead.

“Just write down exactly what I say.”

And what did she say? “Beautiful smile! Oooh you’re so cute with your
big smile! Nice smile!”

At the end of the day she would come up to me with the sheet and say
“See? Isn’t it nicer when you write nice descriptions? This is
wonderfully done!”

A few days later I would get a call from her saying that I needed to
come over immediately.

When I got there she would scream at me. Telling me that I started
off so great with descriptions but towards the end of the sheet she
couldnt tell who was who. “How am I supposed to identify people with
things like ‘nice smile’? THEY ALL HAVE NICE SMILES!”
“But…you told me..”
“I did not! Just do what you did at the beginning of the sheet next
time! Do you have ANY idea how much money you have cost me?!”

This story repeated every photo shoot. After a year and a half
(though I only stayed on “description writer” for 9 months) I finally
got enough sense to leave and I got a job as a waitress. Dealing with
annoying customers was way better then dealing with her!