That was you! YOU brought us the tales of the chicken coop fighters! Thank you.
All I can say, through my rigorous hiring practices which include three interviews, (with key personnel) background checks, testing and reference checks, I am at least getting a much higher quality of slacker than before.
Two weeks ago we had a Come to Jesus meeting. He tried really hard not to cry then, only misted up a little. After the meeting was concluded, he had goals and tasks outlined, and was going to be eagerly headed in the right direction. He came around my desk and gave me a nice hug.
WTF? A hug? Your boss? And it doesn’t include drinking, birthdays, a death in the family or the Christmas party? Jesus fucking Christ, this is construction! We don’t hug unless we have a beer in one hand, and ten empties at our feet. This is Minnesota, where we don’t hug unless severe hypothermia has set in, and we definitely do not to talk about it afterwards.
That was one of the most surreal moments I’ve had as a boss, and that’s saying a lot.
Still not the reason he was fired.
Lest you think I am a sexist pig about men and crying, I’m not.
My husband has/will cry at the birth of children, occasional funerals, and sappy family moments. That’s cool, and appropriate.
He, nor any other man I know, would cry in front of the boss who just fired him. Especially if that boss was a woman. They’d at least make it to the car. Drown their sorrows, cry in the shower, weep to their loving wife.
The vast majority of women I know would keep it together long enough.
Just no.
Oh, man, I just re-reread the “Queen of Bad Decisions” thread. Any follow-up on her (or him)?
I remember feeling bad for her (all the while laughing at the chaotic chickens and the “showing naked pictures of the boss around the office” drama…)
Say, I finally noticed that, in that thread, you asked me if I was hot. Sorry that I never got around to answering.
And did you pick up on the fact that I still haven’t?
That’s ok, you seem to have a great personality.
Last I heard, she’s out of jail (domestics) and living with him and his mom about forty minutes north. They have a do not touch (whatever the real name is for when they can’t be by each other) yet somehow are living together.
Her life is supposedly still filled with chaos, domestics, and joblessness. Now with the extra added bonus of a live~in mother in law.
You mean an Order for Protection? And they live together?
If that’s the case and something happens, any rational judge is just going to disregard any intended legal consequences of an order they both refuse to abide by.
I’m going to have to read that thread for a laugh–a few distractions from upcoming events wouldn’t hurt.
Meanwhile, while I wait to see what happens with the various interviews, dumbassery at my current job continues. Yesterday I got an e-mail informing us that a large (mid five figures) check for our department was at the CEO’s office, so could somebody pick it up. Before I could respond that I would get it, another sales person happily said she’d been dealing with that client, she’d go get it. I ran to the CEO’s office but it was too late, she’d already grabbed the check. I eventually tracked her down and asked her what she’d done with the check. “Oh, I gave it to the Accounting Office, that’s what I’m supposed to do!” Uh, no, you’re not, it has to go through our office first for tracking purposes. “Well, uh, maybe Accounting has it, I don’t know, I might have given it to (other department).” YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE A $50,000 CHECK IS? “You could call them and find out…” No, dammit, you put your detective hat on and find that check or we dock it from your pay, Miss “I know how to handle these things!” Ugh!
I’m picturing her running around with Sherlock’s deerstalker cap and (considering the time of year) possibly a Santa or elf one as well.
I volunteered to work in a charity shop, not to watch your disobedient lapdog that you leave here when you’re at the other shops, and clean up its crap.
I’m this close to making an anonymous call to the bosses saying I’m a customer who nearly stepped in this mornings puddle of urine, and complaining.
Jesus Baby Christ in the mothertrucking manger … YOU lost the paperwork, not me. YOU DID. My name is nowhere on the contract, in the processing log, in the intake system, etc. YOU PROCESSED THAT PAPERWORK, and I’ll be goddamned if you’re going to make me take the blame for its having grown legs and walked away before anyone besides you could review it or even acknowledge its existence.
Also, guess what? You might think you get to decide the terms of my exit due to my pending student teaching, but you would be wrong wrong wrongetty wrong. I’m just not going to tell you my plans before I go, because that would be as stupid as you are, and NOBODY except you is that stupid.
This is what happens when sales monkeys handle money. 
Heh - that reminds me of one time when I gave my two-week notice to quit a job. They gave me a list of all the things they wanted me to make sure I got done before I was finished there; I smiled and nodded and did only the things I felt like doing. What are you going to do, fire me?
Hey, we’ll all call, and swear we all stepped in it…
“Uh, say, Impster? Do you know anything about the forty calls we got from forty different area codes, all claiming to have slipped in dog doo, and every single one of them pulled a groin muscle?”
There are several different programs in our office, each has its own director and I pretty much do admin for all of them. One of the directors comes to my desk several times every day and says “So…here’s what I’m thinking…” and goes on to run ideas through me about how to run her program. Now, I’m glad that she values my opinion, but she makes three times what I do to run her program and I am not her co-director for the price of an admin. Especially since a few months ago at my review they said I’m doing an excellent job and completely overqualified but there’s no room in the budget for a raise.
Oh, shut the fuck up, dad.
I get it. You’re an authoritarian asshole. I learned that as a(n abused) child. I’m keeping my silence right now because we just celebrated your birthday and Christmas is next week and I don’t want to have to bow out because I’m too pissed at you.
We got a new boss about the time I was hired. He’s been working on completely re-doing our schedule/rotation. We had a meeting where it was mentioned about a month ago and I asked if we were going to get a chance to discuss and/or change it when it came out if it caused issues with anyone. Boss said “Good idea”, but clearly hadn’t even thought about that yet.
So my dad is asking me about my upcoming schedule. I say I don’t know because it hasn’t been announced and then we need to discuss it if it doesn’t work for us. He gives me an immediate pursed lip half turn of the head “NO”. Tells me we do don’t have any right to “discuss” anything. If our boss decides we work at 3am, then we work at 3am and we keep our mouths shut. I tell him it doesn’t work that way. Again with the “I’m not going to discuss this” half-turn “no”. I repeat that it doesn’t work like that. He tells me that we have no say in things like that, if our boss tells us to do something, shut up and do it. I mention that the team has been around a lot longer than our boss, I’m sure he’s not like that, and if he were to be too stupid in re-arranging people’s schedules, the team would empty out. He tells me tough luck, your boss would be in his rights to do whatever he wanted and if you all leave then he’ll just get other people to do the job. I laugh and say that at almost every company I’ve worked for in the tech field, that results in the manager being fired. You don’ drive off valuable skills and expertise because you won’t listen to your people, that’s bad management. Again with the half-turn “No”, telling me to shut up and do as my boss tells me.
Fuck you, dad, you’re not my boss, you don’t work for my company, I’m 51 years old and again, go fuck yourself. We can and will discuss this with him, and YOU are the one that has fuck all to say about it. So shut your own goddamned mouth, I’m not putting up with your shit.
Suggestion: Any time your dad asks you to discuss anything about your workplace, tell him, “Sorry, Pop; that’s need-to-know.”
“Oh, pops? I’ll have to stop talking about work. We had a meeting where the boss threatened to fire us all for discussing company policies at home. Apparently, people have been getting bad information from their dads.”
Chimera, your boss’s rights to do anything he wants include “asking for subordinates’ input”. Now picture your dad’s head exploding.
Nice idea, but I suspect the international calls would be a giveaway 
(I’m in Scotland)
Can I also bitch about my fellow volunteer who showed up late, then after 20mins of non-work announced that she had an appointment elsewhere and could I call her a taxi? I pointed her towards the phone - I’m not her fecking secretary.
Well, when the boss took over the team, he told our most senior person (>20 years with the company) that he needed to work an extra hour each day. Senior guy was spitting mad, talking about leaving, but did the time. Problem is that his wife works in the same building and they drive together because they live 60 miles away! So yeah, it caused them a big headache, because she was off work for an hour and had to wait around for him every day, plus it had them leaving in the middle of the worst part of rush hour, adding a good half hour or more to their already long drive home.
This lasted about a month, until senior person quietly went back to his old schedule. He won’t say what happened, but I note that was about the time Grandboss (to borrow the word) was in town.
Better late than never, but you need to set stronger boundaries with your father. That conversation should have gone, “So what’s your upcoming schedule for the holiday?”
“I’m not sure yet dad, I’ll let you know when I do. Are we having ham or turkey?” (insert other bland, inoffensive chatter)