Category Archives: badboss


The place where I current work has an Employee of the Month scheme. Management (4 members) as are supposed to vote on the best worker. But this doesn’t happen…

Usually only the main boss chooses and it’s invariably the boss’s favourite who wins rather than the most productive employee. And the boss’s favourite is almost always one of the people who can’t speak English – because, I suspect, they are unable to question his bizarre decisions and he therefore doesn’t regard them as troublemakers.

The best winner, however, was the Boss’s wife.


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Setting The Wrong Tone

I was five minutes late. It didn’t go down well with the power hungry new team leader. The proof was in that fact that I was publicly roasted and humiliated.

Not that there was much point being on time because all the phones had gone down – and to ice the cake, the computer system collapsed as well.

Free time, we thought… so I pulled out My MP3 got on with surfing the net…

Which, according to the team leader, “wasn’t appropriate.” I pointed out that the phones were down so it couldn’t interrupt anyone or my none existent work. This response, it seemed, wasn’t appropriate either. I learned that the hard way when she grabbed my arm (I still to this day don’t know why I didn’t put a claim in) drag me into a side room.

She laughed the physical abuse off with some nice quiet banter and reasoning about not undermining her authority. But when I decided to make a stand and said I was still going to listen to the MP3 player, Team leader went and got the office manager.

She point blank said that I was not supposed to be using the MP3 in work time – and that any personal electrical equipment including mobile phones should also be switched off. Fair enough. Meeting over.

I went back to my desk in a brown stew. Five minutes later the office manager came to talk to my team leader (who incidentally sits next to me). I realised that I’d forgotten to turn my phone off when, less than five words into their conversation, it started going off. To make things worse I also realised that the night before I’d foolishly set the ring tone to a very offensive song about bestiality. For further details see Blink 182.

It was a real ground-please-swallow-me-up moment. One that was made no easier by the fact that the while of the rest of the office saw and heard the whole thing and spent the rest of the morning laughing at my expense.

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A load of bollocks

The fact that the office of the building firm I work for is completely open plan is annoying when I want to take a snooze, but does present some unique opportunities for amusement.

A few weeks ago for instance, we all witnessed a young man hurrying past our desks, looking harassed, and nervous and most definitely late for the interview he was due to attend in my boss’s cubicle.

My boss sat him down, quickly flicked through his CV, which he hadn’t bothered to read before and started off: “So then Harold…”

At this point I was a bit confused, because when I’d read through the CVs and help my boss decide on the candidates, I thought this guy was called John…

“How did you get here?” asked the boss, not the most welcoming of openings, considering the candidate’s clear anxiety about his lateness (and a bit harsh considering he was only actually five minutes past the due time).

“I got a lift.”

“Can’t you drive.”


At this point the boss flicked through the CV again, clearly seemed to spot something which contradicted this answer, frowned and said: “Well then, you’re wasting my time.”

The young man looked mortified at being humiliated in front of so many people like this, not to mention the man he had hoped would soon employ him.

Unsure of the correct etiquette and whether to stay or go (I later learned that this was his first ever interview), he just sat in stunned silence as my boss proceeded to phone the recruitment consultancy who had sent him their way – and inform them that they were all a bunch of “bollocking morons” for sending him such “a lying little bollock” with such a lot of bollocks on his CV that they really should have checked before sending him on to him. Not to mention the fact that he was clearly a “dweeb:” who would be entirely unsuited to manning diggers and building site work – even if he could drive.

It was at this point that I finally twigged. My boss had the CVs mixed up and thought he was supposed to be interviewing a site manager rather than a graduate office intern.

When I went and whispered the sorry truth to him he was so embarrassed that he offered to hire the by now utterly bemused graduate on the spot.

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