To the bosses who yak endlessly about their expensive and stupid fad diets, knowing full well that underlings can't just tell them to go away. Yeah, thanks. That's really what I want to spend my break listening to. Enjoy your cardboard-flavored, mail order frozen Rat Chow and your capsules filled with powdered wildebeest brains, or whatever. I especially dig comments such as, "I'm living on 500 calories a day!" I wonder if it ever occurs to the bosses that millions of people live on 500 calories a day because they've got no other options. (Well, at least I know of one who got shown the door eventually by somebody higher up the food chain, despite his/her obvious Saint-like levels of nutritional virtue. I hope he's enjoying his wrecked metabolism and depleted bank account, someplace where I'll never have to be.)
On a related note: To every boss who shakes employees down for charitable donations to the United Way and its ilk, because A) The serfs are made of money and B) The serfs couldn't possibly be smart enough to determine on our own time who deserves our leftover money-- if there is any. The best variation of this tactic was provided when I got a "personalized" email from a corporation's CEO. He had moved his main operations to another state. Doubtless it was just a happy coincidence how that state had much lower average wages than this one. But now his workers had suffered a forest fire or outbreak of skin rash or something and this made him very sad. Didn't I want to dig into my $7.20 (post-tax) per hour (sans any benefit, unless you count the occasional used ballpoint pen that I found abandoned on the sidewalk outside the building's lobby) and help his suffering workers so he could feel less sad? Uh, how about no, you asshole. Why don't you sell a few fucking boats/mistresses/Congressfolk to help them yourself and get your smug weasel face the hell out of my inbox?!
To the bosses who wanted me to get on Facebook so they could "hang out" with me when I wasn't working. Because naturally every employee should want to conduct themselves at all times with the knowledge that the boss is watching them. Private time is soooo last century. (It's a good thing I politely dodged this brilliant idea, because these are the same fucks who eventually fired me with a whopping 90 seconds notice. Wheeee!!)
To the bosses who are intimidated by office bullies and never reprimand said bullies for their shitty behavior towards both co-workers and customers. But said bosses do manage to reprimand the one or two employees who attempt to call out said bullies when it becomes clear that nobody with actual authority will ever get around to it.
To the bosses who like to tell stupid, offensive, or incomprehensible jokes and expect their underlings to laugh. Along those lines, let's hear it for every boss who assigns tasks based solely on how cheerfully employees can kiss their butts either on the clock or off. Bonus points for the bosses who yoke job security to whether or not an employee is cute, young, and perky enough for them to screw (either for real, or just in their dreams).
To the bosses who fancy themselves Lovers of the Arts in a town that "is for dreamers*."; who when I asked for a few hours a week (unpaid) to stay home and work on my art looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Mega-bonus points to these same bosses who are now handing out unpaid furloughs right and left to employees who never asked for them nor wanted them. Go, Bosses, Go!
To the bosses who set up safety procedures (with plenty of boring meetings for all to attend) and then get mad at employees for following them. The best variation of this is when employers want a form filled out for an on-the-job injury, but then they play hide-and-seek with the form. This system works especially well when one is a temporary employee. And by "well," I mean: It makes you want to scream, because you have two sets of bosses who each think your problem falls into the other sets' purview. So it's a coin-toss which one you're going to have to annoy until they either can your butt or actually do something. All because their overlords, at some point in time, decided that a cut on your thumb from a box knife merited a form being filled out; rather than just some rubbing alcohol and a bandage and getting on with your life.
To drug-addicted bosses and their frequent moments of unpredictability and outright scariness. My high-water mark for this category was the cocaine-loving boss at a bar and grill who threatened to punch me in the face if I didn't serve a patron who had arrived in the restaurant already so drunk that he could barely stand. That's the job I still point to twenty-plus years later and say, "Yeah, that was the worst moment I ever had at work." I hope this will always be true, but as time goes on it seems less and less likely. While I'm on the subject, let's hear it for drug testing employees. All the time and everywhere. I don't really have to explain why at this point, do I?
*It's true! I read it in an ad in a glossy liberal mag! Really!
With all that out of my system, let the weekend begin. I expect to be working through most of next weekend, so I have to make the most of things now. Cheers.
This post was sort of inspired by several of ethan's writings over at 6th or 7th. I hope he's okay with that.