“I’ve got my old evil boss back” The racist bigot cloaked as a thinly veiled football hooligan type; a casual, shaved head and much too tight clothing to be comfortable. I konw I bang on about track suits and how awful they are, smothering every teenager in the country, stripping away the tribes; the goths, the rockers, the emos, the spods, the boffins, etc etc, the list goes on. But in his case, my new old boss, maybe a tracksuit may be the clothing of choice. I bet it is when he’s on his cruises, dressing for comfort if nothing else, possibly in a grey Fila from Sports Direct, which shows his piss stains as he struggles to control his agieng bladder, and so spends his days submerged in the pool, a never ending flow of bottled San Miguel, keeping him moist as his head turns the colour of a wound in the sun. I’d imagine if I was on that cruise, which of course I wouldn’t be, then I’d be avoiding the bloke like syphylis at a Roman orgy.
Last week I sent 2 emails to someone from the wrong email address, I sent them from my work email address instead of my group work email address. The internal boffins emailed me to let me know and to ask me to use the group address. It was friday afternoon, I’d probably cracked open a cheeky beer, and so I apologised immediately; Ooops I said, it was an error on my part, and have a good weekend, asking slightly unamusingly if they were going anywhere. Such is the banal nature of what makes for humour in these times; laughs in the time of covid is hardly a Marquez novel I’ll be rushing out to buy. Anyway about 90 minutes later I received an email from the boss who shall remain nameless, this is an anonymous blog as far as I can control it, and rather than protecting the identity of him I’m preserving mine for as long as I can, or win the lottery in which case i’ll wage a personal vendetta against this wrong ‘un. His email was full of nonsense of how i’d let my self and the team down and that it was really embarrassing for the team and himself, and I should feel ashamed for sending an internal email to someone from the wrong address. For Christ sake man, have you not got anything better to do with your life than create folders on your laptop next to the questionable torture porn, in which to fill with small misdemeanours to attack me with in next years review.
So this storm in a tea cup went on, with him requesting copies of my apology to who ever it was I had wronged and now on edge about a phone call from him, or teams message, which is even worse because his moon face appears fractionally before the chime alerting me to his stalking presence from his war room where he scrutinises everyones moves. What a shit.
So this is now my working life; a job I quite enjoy is being scuppered by an awful married bully of a man with form, several complaints to HR from folk, some off with stress and some just full of unhealthy plans to throw him off a bridge somewhere, problem being hes got a pretty low centre of gravity so hauling him over the railings would be quite tricky to do unless I had Andre the Giant in tow. So is there an upside? Well, there nearly always is, and in this case there are 2, firstly I can look him in the eye and tell him that my job and therefore, by definition, is not as important as he would like to make it out to be, and the second is that I can look at myself in the spoon and be confident that I am not nearly as much of a Cock as this man is, thats the upside and I just have to make sure to avoid cruise ships until I’m older and retired and dodging being put in a home. I shall cruise the seven seas, eating at the captains table, meeting new and interesting folk every day and seeing the world through wise eyes, knowing that I tried my best. Which is hopefully a long, long way off.
And i’ve got a curry to eat so best be off.