My "Career" ~ Part 2 ~ Evil Bosses

Being the highly successful (and the stats proved it) supervisor I had become, I was eagerly looking forward to my first performance review. Whatever salary increase ceiling Acme had instituted, I was about to bust through it.

My unit had kicked everybody's ass, and we had a good time while doing it. At Christmastime, somebody in the office had suggested a decorating contest, and one of my people thought it would be fun to wrap our cubicle walls in Christmas wrap, with bows and the whole bit. It looked pretty.

My first inkling of trouble should have been the rap on my glass wall from the evil formerly assistant manager (now the actual manager), Connie, announcing to me that the branch VP considered our decorations tacky and unprofessional. (Really, hasn't everybody done the Christmas present decorating bit in every office everywhere in the world?  It's become such a cliche that my current department rejects the idea every time it comes up.)

With the wisdom of hindsight, I realize that the VP never said that; evil manager Connie did, and she was too cowardly to claim ownership of her own bitchiness. 

Regardless, we had to tear it all down. 

Next came the Saturday when we were required to work overtime (we always had mandatory overtime), I made the unforgivable mistake of bringing in caramel rolls for my staff. The problem was that all the other supervisors, except one (my friend and mentor) didn't bring in caramel rolls for their staff.  This accidental one-upmanship made them feel sad and inferior.

And they apparently complained about it, too. How it made them look like fools. Because they were too selfish and self-centered to think about their own people, and how dare I shine a spotlight on that!

I didn't know all this at the time. I found out about it at my performance review.

You see, Connie was the insecure type who loved (loved!) having people fawn over her.  And there were certainly enough kiss-asses in the office who were eager to do it. We had our own lunchroom, in which all the supes were expected to congregate around Connie every day at twelve noon and tell her how pretty her blonde hair was, and how, no, she didn't look like she'd gained weight. Not at all! And how smart she was; such a dynamic decision-maker! I, admittedly, have always had a hard time faking things. To my detriment.

Nevertheless, when that fateful September day rolled around, I was oblivious to what was coming. I walked into Connie's office. It was chilly, so chilly I wished I'd grabbed my sweater from the back of my chair. And despite the wall of windows, the room was unnaturally dark. My review began innocuously enough. Connie mumbled something about my unit's stats. And I had to strain my ears, but I think she gave me props for my unit's achievements. She didn't seem as thrilled about them as I'd anticipated. It's all become sort of jumbled in my mind due to the crying. 

Once the formalities were over, Connie leaned back in her chair behind her obscenely oversized desk, held my gaze with a sullen, angry stare, and gave me the real what's-what.

"You are trying to make all the other supervisors look bad."

"You're trying to show everybody up."

"You don't stop in and say goodnight to me when you leave at the end of the day."

"I don't like you."

"If you can't become part of my team, I will replace the team."

This, folks, is the reward for contributing to the success of a company, when every single exec in the Philadelphia home office was sure we'd fail.  

You can be the biggest screw-up on the face of the earth. You can have absolutely no skills; no intelligence. You can be semi-literate. You don't even need the ability to walk upright. All you need to do is kiss ass.  

I hadn't kissed ass. And I was threatened with being fired. For doing a hell of a good job.

I cried. I actually broke down in sobs. I didn't want to! I couldn't control it.

Connie didn't even offer me a Kleenex.

Connie was cold, and she was evil.  But I wasn't stupid.

After a sleepless night, I determined to stop into her stupid office every stupid day at 5:00, and say, "Goodnight, Connie!  Have a nice night!"

I needed that job.

I toned down any sort of motivational perks for my staff (okay, I just kept them on the down-low ~ I still did them).

I praised to the high heavens the stupid, incompetent other supervisors that I had the supreme misfortune of being forced to work with.  

I downplayed my group's superior stats, but my unit knew. They were sort of my co-conspirators in the whole operation. They knew how good they were, but they knew they couldn't say how good they were. Not out loud.

I also did one more thing. Under my breath, I repeated my  new mantra:

Karma is a bitch.

 

To be continued..........

 

Part One ~ My "Career"