Friday, November 21, 2008

My Boss Is MAD!

Everyone complains about their bosses and how crazy, unreasonable, rude or fussy they are. But nobody has a boss like my boss.

He was not always my boss. In the beginning he was merely a senior colleague of mine. But fate, fortune and, probably, a secret CIA experiment all conspired to eventually make him my boss.

I always knew he was a buffoon. A harmless buffoon, I thought. But you only get to know the depths of someone’s buffoonery when they get some power and are let loose on the world. George Bush? Bah! He’s nothing to MY boss.

Here are a few conversations I had with him recently:

Boss: I just received a letter from some charity for the homeless. In it, there is a blank Christmas card that I am urged to fill in and send back so that it can be passed to a homeless person and cheer him up during Christmas. I am planning to enclose some money with the card. It is nice to help the underprivileged, is it not?

Me: Giving to charity is always nice.

Boss: These homeless people are probably all hopeless drunks that have wasted their lives and chose to stay on the margins of society. But to help them from time to time, even though I do not agree with their lifestyles, makes me feel good about myself. Like Tony Blair always said, we need to give back to society.

Me: Hmm

Boss: I am going to write something along the lines of: hope this card reaches you in good health and that you spend next Christmas under your own roof. I have enclosed (with this card) a gift that Santa gave me (you know he’s busy at this time of year).

Me: What if the card is given to a Brazilian homeless man who does not speak English? He might not get your humour.

Boss: What humour? I was not joking. Beside, there are no Brazilian homeless men. They are all illegal immigrants.

Me: Hmmm

Boss: I am going to enclose five pounds with the card and a post-it note with the words ‘lucky, lucky you’. Five pounds is nothing to me but everything to a homeless man.

Me: This time you are joking, right?

Boss: What is it with you and jokes? Are you saying I am being offensive?

Me: No. I just think whoever receives your card might misinterpret your words and think you are patronising them.

Boss: We are talking about homeless people here. I don’t think they have the intelligence to read into things the way you do. You worry too much.

Me: I suppose I do.

Boss: Ok. Ok. I am going to add the words ‘I am not being offensive’ after ‘lucky, lucky you’.

Yesterday, I received an e-mail from our Head Office asking me about some issue that needed clarifying. My boss was dealing with that issue and had all the paperwork for it. I passed him the e-mail and enquired as to what I should do next.

Boss: I have never dealt with this issue. You did.

Me: No. I have never come across this information before. In fact, I remember you telling me about it a few months ago. Are you sure you don’t have the paperwork for it?

Boss: No. Maybe the secretary was dealing with it all.

Me: But it is not part of her job.

Boss: No. No. She dealt with it. I now remember asking her to do so. She has the all the paperwork. I will go and get it from her.

He went to the secretary and she told him she knows nothing about the matter. He returned and spent ten minutes telling me how incompetent she is then went back to her to make sure she does not have the paper work. He spent the rest of the day running between her office, his office, the offices of other colleagues and then returning to me to tell me how incompetent they all were. He then went back to his own office and started searching. An hour later, he came back to me and said the following:

Boss: I found the paperwork. You know, it is lucky that I am so organised and file things methodically. That is the problem with this company, nobody files things methodically. I really don’t know how this office could function without me.

Me: Where did you find the paperwork? Was it the secretary?

Boss: No. I had it. If I was like you or the others I don’t think I would ever find it. Thank god that I file things methodically.

On the same afternoon, someone came to him to inform him that they will be going on Paternity Leave. They wanted to take the whole two weeks off and did not know what the exact rules were. After talking to them, he came to gossip about the whole thing.

Boss: You know Ian is going on Paternity Leave?

Me: Is he? No, I didn’t know that.

Boss: Yes he is. I tried to advise him not to go. He doesn’t earn that much already and cuddling a baby for two weeks is really not something that is worth starving yourself for.

Me: You told him that?

Boss: I like to look after the welfare of my staff. But what is it with the poor and sentimentality? He can see his baby when he returns home from work. You see your kids when you return home from work, don’t you?

Me: Err, yes. But I don’t think it is the same thing.

Boss: Rubbish. What does a new born baby need with a father? It is the mother that breastfeeds them and has a bond with them at that early stage.

Me: Yes, but the mother will be tired from the ordeal of giving birth and would need help.

Boss: What help? Babies sleep for 23 hours of the day when they are that young. The mother can sleep when they sleep then wake up and feed them when they wake up. It is this politically correct society that we live in that spoiled these people.

Me: I don’t think it will be a good idea to share these views of yours with Ian. He might misinterpret them.

Boss: There you go worrying too much again. I am sure Ian knows I am a caring boss and that I only have his interests at heart. I might even push for a pay rise for him when the time comes. He does not earn much you know. I really don’t know how he is going to raise a baby on his income. Do these people ever think before doing things?

Me: I am sure he thought about it and planned things before deciding to have the baby. You do realise that the average salary in this country is £25,000 don’t you?

Boss: Is it? How are these people managing?

Me: Hmmmm

Boss: I still think it is my duty to advise him on savings and other monetary issues. He will be a father soon and I’d hate to see him have money problems when he has such responsibilities and obligations.

Me: I know you mean well but to imply that he might not be able to look after his baby may offend him.

Boss: Why do you always assume that people will get offended? People are not as soft as you. Do you really think if Ian was that soft he would have been able to survive on his meagre salary?


Me: Hmmmmm

Boss: Exactly. Don’t worry yourself about these things. I know how to deal with him and even if he was offended at the start, I am sure he will forget all about it once he hears about the pay rise.

Me: What pay rise?

Boss: I told you, I am going to try to push for him to get a pay rise. When I tell him that I know he will realise that I am on his side and wont worry about this nonsense talk of being offended and what not.

Me: Sure.

Boss: I’ll talk to him on Monday.

Just to add here that Ian (that’s not his real name of course) hates my boss. This is because one day when this boss of mine was talking about the cleaning company we employ and how bad they were he said the following to Ian:

Boss: These cleaning companies are a joke. We pay them so much to wipe desks, clean and take rubbish out. Honestly, it is a job you or I can do. Actually, if you wanted to, you can supplement your salary by setting up one of these companies and get your wife to do all the cleaning.

Ps

Just to complete the picture, my boss is in his mid 60s, single and still lives with his mother. I always tell myself the only reason I did not strangle him yet, is that I am so cool I can have the globe twirling on a finger of one hand whilst picking my nose with the finger of the other. But oooh I’d love to kick the brown stuff out of this buffoon.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

SMOKING

When you’re a child you worry about being told off by your parents, elder siblings or teachers. You look forward to growing up and becoming independent. I never really understood the meaning of independence before but now I know it means not being told off by anyone. Well, other than your bosses at work but that is only when you mess things up or are constantly late. Even then, you are not really being told off, not like how your parents used to tell you off. You are an independent adult and you do what you like.


The other day, I had to walk my eldest daughter to school before heading for work. We strolled along talking about her literacy class and the Victorian era. This is how the conversation went:

Daughter: Queen Victoria was a horrible lady.

Me: Is that what your teacher told you?

Daughter: No. I saw it on Dr Who.

Me: But Dr Who is not real. It’s just TV.

Daughter: I know THAT. But the woman on Dr Who looked and dressed exactly like the painting of Queen Victoria that our teacher showed us.

Me: That does not mean she was horrible.

Daughter: Was she nice then?

Me: Err. I am not sure it is that simple. She ruled for a very long time and must have done horrible things. Anyway, is it not too early in the morning for all of this? What are you going to do at school today?

Daughter: There is a literacy competition in school today. Our class is going to talk about Queen Victoria. What shall I say when it’s my turn?

Me: Just tell them she was horrible. They’ll probably agree with your Dr Who logic.

Daughter (squinting her eyes at me): Stop making fun of me.

We were by the school entrance by then and I had no time to explain. She walked away without saying goodbye.

I had a very bad cold and was coughing as I walked to the tube station. Someone smoking a cigarette walked past me and I managed to inhale some of the smoke. It has been three years since I last had a cigarette. But with my annoyance with Queen Victoria and this bad cold of mine, I suddenly had a very strong urge to smoke a cigarette. One cigarette could not do any lasting damage, could it?


I walked to the nearest shop and bought me a golden B&H and a lighter. My throat burned as I inhaled my first puff. Maybe I was just out of practice and needed to inhale a few more before getting that great feeling back. I did. I started coughing madly and had to lean on some wall to get my breath back. This smoking business was not for me. I threw the cigarette away and carried on walking to the station as I wiped the tears from my eyes and attempted, but failed to control my coughing.


When I returned home that night, my wife, my mother and my eldest daughter were all sat in the living room and having a heated conversation. Not Queen Victoria again, I thought to myself as I walked in.

Wife: Did you go to the shop near the school today?

Me: Yeah.

Wife: What did you buy?

Me: Err..Chewing gum.

Wife: Are you sure?

Me: Yes I am. Why do you ask anyway?

Wife: Because when I went to get our daughter from school I passed by the shop and the owner commented about not realising that YOU were a smoker.

Me: Maybe he’s talking about someone else. I don’t even think he knows we’re married.

Wife: Strange! Our neighbour’s young daughter also said she saw you this morning when she was on her way to school. She said she was on the bus when she saw you walking to the station with a cigarette in your hand.

Me: Oh yeah. THAT? My cough was getting worse and I thought a cigarette might help.

Wife: How long have you been secretly smoking?

Me: I have not. It was only the one cigarette. It is no big deal.

Wife: Why did you lie and say it was chewing gum then?

Me: I don’t know. I did buy chewing gum though.

Wife: Of course you did. Secret smokers need something to hide the stinky smell of their mouths.

Me: No it wasn’t that. I just did not want to put people off with the smell.

Wife: Same thing really.

Mother: Starting to smoke at your age? What were you thinking?

Me: It was one cigarette, mum.

Mother: That’s what you said last time.

Me: That was twenty years ago! You’re not being fair here.

Mother: Smoking is bad for you and you know that.

Me: Stop talking to me as if I am some child. If I want to smoke, I will smoke.

Wife: She’s right; it is bad for you and YOU ARE acting like a child now.

Me: I don’t need any of this. I have a really bad cold, a headache and I am tired after a long day at work. Lets just drop the subject.

Wife (muttering to herself): Not before you drop the habit.

Me: I am not a child and I will have nobody telling me what to do. In fact, I am going to go and have a cigarette right now. As of today, consider me a smoker.

I stormed to the back garden and lit a cigarette from the full packet that I still had.


I have been smoking ever since and I hate the smell, the constant coughing and the taste. But I am an independent man and will not have anyone telling me what to do.
 


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