The Fat, Ugly Boss With a Moustache: Hate Post

Time to break from all the sap.Tessa's hosting a Blog Hatefest today. Check out the collection of angry offerings here. Mine's dedicated to former bosses, those lacking in scruples and driven by insatiable ego and control needs. You know who you are, and I'm glad to be in a better place (i.e., away from you) but I still hate you. 
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Eileen limped around the office with a cane, moaning about her pained ligaments and fall from the “damned step ladder.” She was 40 then, as wide as she was tall, and utterly unrefined. Plus, most irksome of all, she bore a rather obvious dark brown moustache.  But I was extremely lucky to have her as my boss. That’s what they all said. 

“She has exceptional skills with the toughest of clients, Robyn,” they told me. “You’ll learn so much from her!” 

I said “She’s fat, ugly and needs to shave her moustache.” [I did, and clearly still do, hate her guts.]

It was my birthday when I got the offer. The salary was twice what I’d earned on my last job. 

“Is the amount okay with you?” the manager asked.

“Oh, hmm, yes, it's fine.” I suppressed my enthusiasm. 

“Welcome! Welcome! We’re so glad to have you here.” They were warm and hospitable when I arrived. Alas, I was a professional in a professional setting earning professional pay. I quickly befriended colleagues who joined me on weekend dance excursions. Management consultants adjusted my computer space to assure ergonomic correctness. I participated in free tai-chi classes during Tuesday lunch breaks. Chocolate eclairs graced the conference room table, sweetening the toll of lengthy staff meetings. What more could I ask for?

Slam! She’d come into my office, week after week, abruptly shutting the door behind her. Inching her way to a chair, she sat across the room from me, eyes piercing, both hands clenching the handle of her cane. She opened her mouth and the words cut through me. It was disturbing enough to view her, this woman hailed as the department goddess, much less be subject to her mentorship.

“What you said during staff meeting wasn’t appropriate. You need to watch your words. Don’t speak up until you clear it with me first. You have to learn people skills and I don’t think this is the right work environment for you. You don’t know the first thing about being a clinician…”

When each weekly bashing was over, I resumed my job with a deep breath, quality work and a smile.

Ten weeks into my employment, Mrs. Williams called me in for what she termed “an evaluation.”

“So how are things going with Eileen?”

“Well, we’ve had some differences but we’re working through it. Things are getting better.” 

Mrs. Williams’ eyes pierced me in an Eileen-like fashion. She snatched a post-it from her desk, scrawled some words onto it, then invited me to leave her office. 

The stage was set. My "evaluation" would not be favorable so I managed to transition to a new employer rather quickly.

Three years later, I met Mike who shared an office with Eileen. “Kindly pass on a message for me, Mike. Tell her she’s fat and ugly and needs to shave her moustache.”

I hope she got the message.