Mismanaged Expectations, Part 5

| Working | December 25, 2012

(My former boss is really intelligent and very hard working, but is incredibly socially inept, to the point where it’s caused serious problems. I’m sitting at my desk when she barges into my cubicle and begins berating me.)

Former Boss: “[My name], why weren’t you at the 10:00 meeting that just got finished? It was VERY important that you be there!”

Me: “Meeting? What meeting? I don’t have anything on my calendar.”

(I pull up my electronic calendar and, sure enough, there’s no 10:00 meeting on it.)

Former Boss: “You can’t just delete a meeting and later claim you weren’t invited!”

(I then pull up my former boss’ calendar, which shows the details of the 10:00 meeting.)

Me:“Look, [former boss]: the meeting is right there. You set up this meeting on [date and time] and invited four people. My name’s not on the list. I had no way of knowing about the meeting unless you invited me, and you didn’t invite me. If you had asked me to be there I’d have been there. But you can’t expect me to attend meetings unless I’m informed of their existence.”

Former Boss: “That’s no excuse. You need to start looking at MY calendar and watch for meetings you SHOULD attend and come to them, even if I don’t specifically tell you about them!”

(After numerous similar incidents, my former boss was reassigned to ‘Special Projects,’ where she won’t have to ‘manage’ the performance of other staff.)

 

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Dozen’t Know When To Stop

| Working | December 25, 2012

(I work in a law firm for an attorney. There is another attorney who shares the same unit, but has his own practice. The other attorney also has a ruthless sweet tooth. Since it’s nearing the holiday party, I will hide anything sweet when I bring it into the office.)

Attorney: “Are those donuts?”

(He’s somehow spotted the donuts in their nondescript packaging in an obscure corner of my desk buried under files.)

Me: “Yes.”

Attorney: “…Uh, can I have one?”

Me: “Sure.”

(Five minutes later, he comes back to my desk.)

Attorney: “So, do you have any donuts left?”

Me: “Yes.”

Attorney: “…Uhh, can I have one?”

(Two hours later, he returns again.)

Attorney: “So, any donuts left?”

Me: “Yes.”

Attorney: “…Can I have one?”

Me: *sighs* “Just take the rest.”

Attorney: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes. It’s fine.”

(He starts to walk off with the donuts, but stops and looks back at me.)

Attorney: “I work out!”

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The End Of A Vicious Cycle

| Working | December 25, 2012

(This occurs on a Christmas Eve on a Monday at our resort’s bike rental shop. Although we closed at 4:30 pm, company policy is to stay open until all our customers have been helped. There’s still a long line at 5:30 pm. At this point, my wife, the resort’s general cashier, comes by to expiate the paperwork. At the same time, the night security supervisor comes by.)

Security Supervisor: “You’re going to have to close. It is dark and past your closing time.”

Me: “Sorry, I can’t close with customers waiting. Besides, the Christmas lights provide enough light.”

Security Supervisor: “I’ll have to call your manager, and she…” *points to my wife* “…can’t be here.”

(I ignore him as I wait on customers. Frustrated, he starts calling my managers. He eventually gets my General Manager on the line.)

Security Supervisor: “The GM wants to talk to you now!”

(Surprisingly, one of the customers who has overheard everything speaks up in my defense.)

Customer: “Shut up, a**hole! He’s busy!”

Wife: *to me* “I’ll get [the customer’s] bikes so you can talk to the GM.”

(I get on the phone with the General Manager.)

General Manager: “[Security Supervisor] briefed me on your situation. Can you put me on speaker?”

Me: “Sure.”

General Manager: *on speaker* “[My name], keep up getting the bike rented out. [Security Supervisor], you need to help the customers or get out of his shop. [My wife], thanks for helping out and make sure your hours are transferred to this department. If any customers can hear me, I apologize for my Security Supervisor and thank you for your patience. Everyone have a Merry Christmas!” *hangs up*

(With this, the customers that overhear this applaud.)

Security Supervisor: “This isn’t the end of this, jerk!”

Customer: “Leave him alone! I want my bicycles.”

Me: “No problem, ma’am. Last name and villa number, please?”

Security Supervisor: “That’s it! You’re done at this company!”

Customer: “I’ll make sure you’re done at this company!”

(I did hear about it. I had to make a statement, and so did my wife. In fact, there were several comment cards from customers and several letters to corporate about what had happened. By the end of January, I was still running that little bike shop while the former security supervisor was appealing his unemployment denial.)

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Eve-ntually, They’ll Get It

| Working | December 24, 2012

Supervisor: “What day is Christmas Eve?”

Me: “It’s on a Monday.”

Supervisor: “I mean, is it on the 24th?”

Me: “Yes, just like it is every year.”

Supervisor: “Oh… is that the dumbest question I’ve ever asked?”

Me: “Possibly. It’s slightly dumber than the first time you asked it.”

Supervisor: “I asked you that before?!”

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Stewing In Their Own Juice

| Working | December 24, 2012

(I am purchasing some juice to stock up for the holiday break because a majority of stores will be closed. There is an employee working the cash register.)

Me: “Hello, how are you?”

Employee: *glares*

Me: “…Okay, never mind then.” *places juice cartons on conveyor belt*

Employee: *picks up carton and rolls eyes*

Me: “I’m sorry, is there a problem?”

Employee: “You know that half of the juice that’s sold in the United States has chemicals in it, right?”

Me: “…”

Employee: “So essentially, you’re killing yourself and your family by buying this stuff.”

Me: “Excuse me?”

Employee: “Whatever; it’s not up to me to tell you how to lead your lifestyle. Kids these days! Idiots and failures, every single one of them.”

(Another customer behind me has been listening in and speaks up.)

Another Customer: “Listen, if this kid wants to buy juice, then that’s his prerogative. It’s not up to you to tell him that he’s killing his family because he’s certainly living a better life than you at this rate. Now, shut your trap and sell this kid what he wants.”

(I buy my juice and leave, but I make sure to stop the other customer once they head out of the store.)

Me: “Thank you very much for that.”

Another Customer: “It’s no problem. Here’s something funny; I’ve seen that woman at the register before. I went to high school with her and she dropped out. She’s one to talk about kids being worthless.”

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