Not the Boss of Me

I went to Cardiff on Tuesday for a meeting, I took a train with my work mate, we didn’t get smashed on the train, and we talked shop. Probably the correct thing to do pre meeting. Our new boss was there, he appeared once in March I think and since then he’s been an enigma. Call me old fashioned , but if I have to have a boss then I’d like him or her to be someone I can look upto. Someone who presumably is being paid more than I am, and therefore qualifies for his or her salary, in my eyes. Which I think is fair.

But it seems to me, that my company has no long term plan, well it has an idea, which are just words, but the means to turning these words into deeds seem pretty far off to me. Ive been doing this for 23 years nearly, and I’ve seen folk come and go; managers tend to fuck up some project and make a sidewards move to go and fuck up some other project, swallowed up into Headquarters, never to be seen again. But is seems to me now that the managers I have had in the recent past, say the last 5-10 years are strange breed. This one is a definite “Yes” man, he will do whatever his seniors tell him to, however petty with a view to brainwashing or gas lighting us at the coal face. He mixes up jeans and suit jacket, it’s a classically tedious look at best and dreadfully unimaginative as it stands. It is probably meant to say “AUTHORITY” look out, I’m more senior than you because I’m wearing a jacket and shirt (no tie) but look, I’ve got jeans too, which makes me slightly casual too, meaning we can hangout, but you’ll never trust me. He is relentlessly positive, to the point of actually being deluded; no more pertinent was this than when explaining how the new Operating System we’re being trained in makes our job slower by a factor of about 10, maybe a little less, and he’s stood there spouting out arbitrary dates and numbers for when shit will get back to where it should be, he and his sad little colleagues are living in a  Dream World where Jeans and Jackets are the norm, where Jeremy Clarkson sits on a throne made of tracksuits and cigarette boxes. He’s telling us whet he’s been doing for the last 4 or 5 months, but the fact that he didn’t bother to listen to us in the first visit, hasn’t engaged with any of us via email at all and insisted on making the introduction speech all about him and how he operates, well, all these things made me believe that I really have no interest in anything he has to say. It must make a speaker pretty despondent when no one raises a hand when asking for questions. It says “We don’t  know who you are, and we have no use for you, now please fuck off so we can get finished and get to the pub”

Which is what we did and I ended up having to have a wee in the train on the way home.

One comment

  1. Not the best of managerial styles at all. I used to have the look at me managers who everyone ignored and did what their job was despite the crap changes thrust upon them.
    Did you really wee in the train?


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