Asshole Boss (a work of fiction) (662 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.92 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by NavyJester <xlations.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-04-15 05:21:37 EDT
Byron had been my boss now for just over half a year.
He's an asshole.
Allow me to expand on that. He's not just an asshole, but a really, really, really big asshole.
Some of you working folks may know someone just like this.
Okay, let me back up a little bit.
About seven months ago I landed a job working for a radio station on the west coast. On my first day I was introduced to a few coworkers, and met my division head, Byron. Byron, whose actual name is Richard (read: Dick), took it upon himself to give me a breakdown of how things worked in the division. He called me into his office and motioned for me to take a seat. He was reviewing some papers.
"So, Bill..."
"Actually, sir, it's William."
"Right, Willy, well, let's see..." he continued, unphased, his eyes scrolling the lines of the paper, "...so, you've got a communications degree from Upton College, huh? How was that?"
"Well, it was college." I wondered where this line of questioning was going.
"Right. I've heard Upton is a pretty cheap college, but, what the hell? You've got your degree. It says here you've got two prior years of experience working as a commercial editor, and also...hmm...eight months working in a retirement home? What's that got to do with communications?"
I was taken aback by this. "Well, it's a resume. Prior work experience, whatever it may be, is usually listed on those."
He peered up from his glasses. Already I was beginning to hate my boss.
"Yeah, okay," he continued. "Well, as you may or may not know, work here starts at 8:30 am, but it looks good if you're here a half hour ahead of time, you know, just to get the ball rolling. It's good to have you on board, welcome to the radio station."
About three days went by before Byron called me into his office for a sit-down.
"Willy, it's come to my attention..."
I interrupted him. "Please, call me Will." The name Willy grated my nerves.
"Do you have a problem? If I'm talking, I expect you to listen. You can save your comments until after I'm finished, okay? Now, you've been coming into work for the last three days at 8:20 or so. What did I tell you monday?"
I could feel my blood pressure rise. "To get here at 8 to get the ball rolling."
"Well, why aren't you coming in at 8, then?"
"Because work doesn't start until 8:30, I thought." I already hated this man.
"Right, work doesn't start until 8:30, but you should be here, and I'm not saying you have to, but you should be here a half hour early to get the ball rolling. I hope you're taking this into consideration, after all, I have worked here for seven years, and I know how this place runs. You know, being in radio isn't all it's cracked up to be on tv shows and movies..."
It was at this point I started to drone him out. You see, Byron is one of those guys that just loves to hear himself talk. He likes to have a meeting every day with the editing department, and I began to notice, after only a week or so working there, that when he talks, most of my coworkers just roll their eyes. I guess they must think he's an asshole too.
"...are we clear?"
"Sure, Byron, we're clear." I wasn't quite sure what we were clear on, though.
As I left the office, I ran into Pablo, the radio station janitor. He looked at the door to Byron's office, then me.
"Ju know, mang, da whole worl hays tha guy, mang. Hees an asshole. Thees one tine, mang, I wass cleenin hees office an hee fokin jelled ah mee beecas I wass makeen too mush nois or sometheen. Fokin asshole, mang. I weesh heed fokin leaf or die or sometheen, ju know?"
I nodded at Pablo's thickly accented comment, and headed to my workspace.
As the weeks went on, I began to feel that Byron was out to make my life a living hell at work. I was called into his office at least twice a week, sat down, and basically told that contrary to sponsor comments, my on-air commercial editing sucked and need to be made better.
I believe it was month four at the radio station when Byron wanted all commercials to pass by his office first so he could review them and make any changes he felt necessary. And he still insisted on calling me Willy. Asshole.
Month five of work had passed, and my contempt for my asshole boss grew. I found myself concentrating more on different ways to piss him off than actual work, and frankly, it was more rewarding personally than any editing I had ever done. I began showing up earlier and earlier to work, messing with his office: misplacing papers, unplugging his computer monitor from time to time, putting staple traps on his chair, and even ended up glueing his coffee cup to his desk. That pissed him off. And it began to make him think that Pablo, our janitor, and a very good acquaintance of mine by now, was at fault.
I passed by Byron's office one morning and heard Pablo screaming.
"Ju can't fokin fire mee, mang! I'm in da union, mang! My fokin hermano ees a fokin legal guy, asshole! Jes! Jure an asshole, mang! Jure an asshole an the whole fokin worl theens ju are, ju asshole!"
I giggled with delight as Pablo screamed, then stomped out of Byron's office. I stopped him in the hallway.
"Pablo, hey."
"Tha guy ees a fokin asshole!" I could tell Pablo was out for blood.
"Hey, I've got a question. You've got the master keys, right?"
"Jes, bah nah for long, mang. I get fired today, bro."
I thought for a second. "When do you have to turn your stuff in?"
"By close of beeznis today, holmes. Why ju wanna know?"
I reached into my wallet and handed him a $50. "Take this, go make a copy of those keys for me, and call me tonight. We're going to get Byron back."
Pablo's eyes widened, and without saying a word, took the $50 and left the radio station.
I got the call from Pablo that evening, and directed him to meet me at the station.
Pablo was waiting in the parking lot when I pulled up.
"Mang, ju know, we cou get in beeg prolems eef they find out we have thees, mang."
"Yeah, I know. Pablo, tell me, did you ever want to be on radio?"
"Well, jes, thass why I wanted to work in the radio. But all they deed wass give me thees fokin mop an broom an plunger, mang."
"Pablo, let's make a commercial for you."
Pablo and I broke into the radio station and headed for the commercial editing room. I flicked on the lights and booted up the computer, and set the microphone in front of Pablo.
"Amigo, go ahead and tell the world what you think of Byron." I hit record.
"Byron, mang, jure a fokin asshole an a cocksucker. I fokin hate ju an I theenk jure the beegest asshole in the worl! Ju eat sheet an then ju sheet that sheet an then ju eat the sheet ju just feenish eatin an sheetin."
Several cups of coffee and innumerable "assholes" and "eat sheet" and "fokin cocksucker"s later, it was time to edit Pablo's glorious rant. It only took about a half hour to get everything just right, and Ieven ended up looping the whole thing and putting some funky background music into it. I slipped the disc into the next day's approved commercials files, and Pablo and I left the station.
The morning show the following day was immaculate. All commercials for Pizza Palace, Long's Hardware, and even the station id's were replaced with Pablo's hilarious asshole rant. Needless to say, this cost the station hefty fines from the FCC, the loss of most of its sponsors, and also caused Byron to quit the week after.
Of course, it was also a big fat fingerprint positively identifying both my mexican friend and I as the culprits.
Pablo and I now share a cell in the DeLange Federal Penitentiary (after all, fucking with the FCC is a federal crime), and my parole comes up just four months from now. But at the very least, we don't have an asshole boss anymore.
User Reviews
Submitted by WiKi (user info) at 2004-04-18 16:31:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You're back! WooHoo!!
+2 because this rocked.. like all of your posts
Submitted by legallady (user info) at 2004-04-15 17:57:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Liked It.
Submitted by Quartermain (user info) at 2004-04-15 12:03:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was pretty badass. I liked this part the best:
**Yeah, I know. Pablo, tell me, did you ever want to be on radio?"
"Well, jes, thass why I wanted to work in the radio. But all they deed wass give me thees fokin mop an broom an plunger, mang."**
Submitted by reallybored (user info) at 2004-04-15 11:50:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good stuff.
Submitted by Supremebeing (user info) at 2004-04-15 11:33:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
VERY funny Ju keep me lafing the whole time!
Submitted by potatomanjack (user info) at 2004-04-15 10:05:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Dude, I missed your stuff.
A+ quality as usual.
Submitted by digsy (user info) at 2004-04-15 09:15:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice, you still got the keys?
Submitted by triliad (user info) at 2004-04-15 08:37:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wow. All we ever did to my boss was urinate on his car.
Submitted by Trout (user info) at 2004-04-15 07:13:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great story.
Kudos to you.
Submitted by Ainkara (user info) at 2004-04-15 07:03:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Hehehe...
Submitted by Magicaddict (user info) at 2004-04-15 06:52:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
+2 for fucking the boss up.
-1 for getting caught.
Submitted by NavyJester (user info) at 2004-04-15 05:52:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Yes, I've had too long an absence from my Uber-friends here. It was mostly a mix of military deployment and writer's block...but, yes, I'm back. :D
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-04-15 05:50:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sideburns (user info) at 2004-04-15 05:49:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You're back!
and the story rocked.