Originally posted on January 11, 2005.
A fellow a blogger is changing jobs and it reminded me of a psycho boss I worked for years ago when I was a secretary. The woman who was our alleged accountant (I say “alleged” becaused she just came in, closed the door, chain smoked, and talked on the phone all day) decided to beautify our office one day. She came in with all these plants and little trees and such. A couple of months later, Wally – no, i’m not changing his name – informed me that the plants needed to be watered. It went like this:
Wally: Why are all of my Goddamned plants dying!?
Wally: The plants need to be watered at least once a week!! That is your friggin’ job!!! I am too important to have dying plants in my office building!!! Either water the plants or take a permanent vacation!!!
Six months later I was wandering around watering the plants. The two other women in my company (out of 40 employees) were supposed to answer the phone for me when I was away from my desk, but one was in a meeting and the accountant, well, how could she with her best friend on the other line and a cig in her mouth? The phone rang more than four times (that was the another rule – phone must not ring more than four times). Wally hunted me down and it went a little sumpin’ like this:
Wally: Why the hell are you wandering around with a bucket of water?
me: You told me to keep the plants watered
Wally: NO!! that is not your job!! I pay you to answer the damn phone, not wander the halls with a bucket of water!!
me: Yessir (good southern girl!)
me (in my head): Thank God I don’t have to do that anymore!!
Fast forward about another 3 months….
Wally: My plants are dying again, are you watering them?
me: No, you told me that —
Wally: It is your job to keep my damn plants alive and if you don’t like it you can find somebody else’s plants to kill. And when you do, don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out. That’s my name on the fucking door and I can find somebody else in a snap who can water my plants.