Well, my boss wins the "Worst Boss of the Week" award.

The BBQ Pit
1

Let me take you back to Friday. This is a nomally busy time during the month at work. Lots of scheduled stuff to do along with a big project that is coming up on an important milestone. My boss is a bit of a nervous person as it is, so all of the thigns coming due really had him on edge recently.

The normally scheduled things to get done are all proceeding perfectly normally. The big project is a bit ahead of schedule, only because I knew time would be tight around now so I planned and worked ahead. A thing of beauty on my part.

But, Friday rolls around. Mr. Nervous is hyperly worried about where everything stands. His solution? Tell everyone that we need to come in on Saturday for a 4 hour working session so he is fully up to date on where everything stands and to see if we can get a little bit ahead of plan.

Did I mention that we are ahead of schedule? And that he knows this? And that everything else is under control? No matter, a fun 4 hour Saturday meeting with the collection of drooling troglodytes I call co-workers is planned. Awesome, because I can think of no better way to spend a day off. My hopes are that the boss will see where everything is at in about 5 minutes and send us home. But, that’s not quite what happened.

9 AM arrives on Saturday. Most of us have arrived, ready to blather on needlessly about paradigm shifts, out of the box thinking, etc, etc. The one curiously missing person is the boss. Could be traffic we think. After all, this town does have issues with it. 9:30 rolls around. Nothing. 9:45. Still nothing. A call is placed to his house. No answer, other than his pre-recorded voice. A message is left, we wait until 10 and then all head our separate ways, more than a little perturbed.

Monday rolls around, the boss shows up. We are all wondering what happened. His response? “It was so nice when I woke up on Saturday that I couldn’t picture sitting in a meeting. So, I went to play golf. I hope I didn’t inconvenience anyone too much.”

What? Did I really hear that correctly? Not only did he stand us up for golf, he did so without letting us know so we could all save the trip. And, he freely admitted to it without a hint of the sheer jackassery behind that move. It is now clear that I am going to have to hide a dead fish above the ceiling tiles in his office.

2

Does he have his own bathroom at work? Perhaps you could sneak in and give him an upper-decker. :smiley:

3

They always look in the ceiling first.
Toss it deep inside one of the heating ducts.

4

One dead fish? Fuck that, clean out the fish market, and pick up some chicken entrails on your way into work.

5

Wow, what a dick. It’s amazing how self-centered some folks are.

6

I can barely manage a meek yet astonished “me too” to this.

I have met some asswipe clueless fuckhead bosses in my day. This is one of them.

7

I fear the answer is “no,” but I must ask.

Will you be paid for that Saturday hour?

8

I’d send an anonymous note to HIS boss, letting him know the kind of asshatery that went on. Make sure he knows there are multiple people that can confirm what went on so it’s not just the whining of one malcontent.

9

I think that qualifies for “Worst Boss of the Year.” He deserves to be mauled by a pissed-off mountain lion.

10

Yeah, that’ll happen. Not a-one of us is hourly.

Retribution will be coming, that much I can promise.

11

If his chair is leather/leatherette, smear it with petroleum jelly.

He’ll walk around with it on his pants all day…

12

Your boss is evil and must be destroyed.

13

I wouldn’t put a dead fish in his office, only because the smell will likely reach your office too. Nah, put it in his car (if possible), or his golf caddy (as difficult as that may be).

I like the Vaseline-on-his-chair idea, except for the likelihood that he would use that as an excuse to buy a new and more expensive office chair.

Ooh, I got it! If your parking area isn’t under surveillance, let the air out of his tires *on a Friday afternoon * – that way he’ll lose some weekend time just as he cost you guys yours – and he’ll have all weekend to stew over it.

14

While that sounds like loads of fun, I think it’s a bit heavy-handed.
I am reminded of what someone (not me, mind you, no it wasn’t me, it was, um… someone else, yeah, that’s it, someone else) did to my former boss.

Take a couple of fresh eggs. Raw eggs. Let them sit out of the fridge for a couple of weeks. When you’re pretty sure they’re past their prime, crack them open into a Tupperware or similar container. Whisk till mixed. Wait till everyone is out of the office. Pour this foul-smelling slime behind his credenza or file cabinet or some other piece of furniture that’s up against a wall. You just catch a faint whiff of “WTF is that smell?!?” every so often when the ventilation system blows the right way. Very hard to track down.
When he asks if you smell anything, say, “No. Do you?” It’ll make him crazy.
Oh, and your boss is an ass of the first order. I think the deli needs to start ‘forgetting’ his lunch when you all order in.

15

Egads, what an asshat.

16

After seeing the title of the thread, I was fully prepared to post to this thread and say, “Oh, it’s not that bad.” It is tough to be a boss, after all.

But that boss, is, in fact, awful.

Might I also suggest the old “freezing the can of shaving cream, cutting off the bottom, and placing it in his most important desk drawer so that the frozen cream may expand and make a frothy mess everywhere” trick.

17

True asshattery.

Quote from a former boss:

“I want every one working late, and working weekends to get [name of project] finished. I want to see a finished, working machine when I get back from my two week ski vacation.”

About a year later there was a sort of palace coup, and oddly enough nobody took his side.

18

At a company I used to worked for, we once filled the VP’s office with live chickens. And we actually liked him. :slight_smile:

19

And what did he say when you said, “Why, yes, you did inconvenience too much?”

20

Not nearly as evil, but…

I used to have a boss that would come into our office at 5pm on Friday afternoons and say “Oh, we’re still behind, so I’m going to need you all to stay late tonight. I also need you all to come in tomorrow. And Sunday too. Have a nice weekend, I’m off to the Hamptons.”

Rat bastard. He did this every Friday for an entire Summer. I shed not a tear when he got fired.

But there was this one time, at band camp…

I had finally scheduled a week off, the last week of Summer. I made it abundantly clear that I was taking off. I had gotten permission weeks before. Late afternoon on my last Friday, this particular rat of questionable parentage was calling us into his office one by one. Finally he called me in.

“tdn, we want to thank you for all the hard work you’ve done on this project. We really appreciate it. And we want to reward you for it. That’s why we are giving you a bonus. We’re not sure yet how much it will be, but at least one hundred dollars. It’s to show our appreciation for you postponing your vacation.”

I smiled at him, told him to keep his lousy hundred bucks, and walked out. For a week.