Horrible Bosses: People I would like to see dead.

December 18, 2011

Essays for Giggles

My “Jack Of All Trades”, self-description is not a joke, though the second half of that saying, being “master-of-none”, may be the most accurate part.  I lost count… but I am somewhere over 40 jobs, in my life… which assuming that I did not start working as a baby, average more than one a year.

At 16, my first job was at an ice-cream shop in the mall.  I was in a hurry to close up one night because there was a party I wanted to go to and I had to keep badgering the slow, moronic son of the owners for what I needed to do next in order to get out of there.  The next thing I know I was fired… so began my illustrious career of quitting before I could get fired, for the next two decades.

To be fair, the owners were very kind in letting me go.  They told me that I was “laid off”.   I didn’t know I had actually been fired until my adored, nearly-beautiful friend Barbie was hired the next week by the lustful owner’s son.  And that name is not a joke.  With a name like Barbie, how can I, a mortal woman who is not 10’ tall with the plastic breasts of a playmate and the waist of Scarlett O’Hara not get “laid off” when my boss’s son was just looking to get “laid”?  He had already been checking her out:  “HEY there… who is your FRIEND?” My demise was only a matter of time.   I hope he is in jail now or at least on a sex offender registry somewhere.

So began my sad career of low-rent dreams and even lower expectations.  Between sixteen and college graduation… yes, it may surprise my readers to know that I actually stayed with a project such as college long enough to graduate, not with honors or anything… just by the skin of my teeth… with mediocre grades and no accomplishments… and no offense to my alma mater, but a degree not worth the paper it is written on.  Just goes to prove that a public, state-funded university is all about perseverance, keeping a grade average just above failing and paying the semester’s tuition.  Sorry but someone has to say it.

Needless to say, I did not “apply myself”.  To this day, I have nightmares that I have a Final Exam but don’t know what classes I am registered for or the location of the test.  I wake up in night sweats that I have, in fact, not graduated from college.  What I call my Failure Nightmares take many forms.  When dieting, I dream that I have been eating chocolate cake, and though I have not had a cigarette in a decade, I dream that I am puffing one up occasionally.   Obviously, my nightmares tend to reveal my internal belief system that I should be a fat, chain-smoking, college drop-out.

I have had some horrible jobs, most often in restaurants.  There was a restaurant in Atlanta, that shall remain nameless, whose manager treated us like her personal serfs.  We were ordered to bring her sacred Diet Coke to her every morning, run errands off the clock and clean without pay after our shift  in “punishment” for being late.  Oh, yea, totally illegal.  But this was the 80’s and we were too dumb (and too young) to know better.  Plus, when two good weekend shifts is the difference between you making rent or not, you tend to shuffle along.

I had a manager at yet another restaurant, in a fit of temper, who used to throw bread baskets – FULL OF BREAD  – all over the kitchen, then order whoever was nearest him to clean it up.  Let me just say, that I never fetched my boss’ soda, worked for free or cleaned up my boss’ tantrums, but those happened to be jobs that I quit first.  At the time when they were ranting though, it was like being beaten by an abusive parent.  I had to keep my head down and fly under the radar, ‘cause I knew if they singled me out, that my pride would absolutely not let me do it and I would be living on the streets.

After I worked my final days in restaurants, like my illustrious college career, I used to wake from night terrors in which I had been waiting tables in my dreams all night.  Ugh… even now, I can barely stand to think about it.  And when eating in a restaurant today, I am VERY KIND to servers.

You know the movie “Horrible Bosses”?  Like “Bridesmaids”, this is a move that I should have written.  I saw the movie tonight and it brought to mind all the bosses that I would like to see dead.

There are the ones previously mentioned, but I also recall the ones who were just STUPID – as in if we were wild animals, they would never survive, much less rule over me.   Then there were the ones who were medicated, or at least should have been… and to think these morons held within their hands the power to make me homeless or uninsured on their schizophrenic whim, well… like the plot of “Horrible Bosses”, it is enough to make you want to plan a way to murder them… and get away with it.

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Renea Dijab

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    […] Horrible Bosses: People I would like to see dead. ( […]

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