What a c–t! Bad Bosses…
As I sit here in my new unemployed guise, I thought I would dedicate a few dits to the badder side of my work experiences…as if it could be any worse than running through bank windows, crashing cars, having them stolen…for those easily offended you’ve definitely come to the wrong place as I am anything but subtle, as subtle as a sledgehammer between the eyes, but unlike Paul Henry, I will apologise for any offence caused, but never for what I have said.
I was working for Holden with this boss from hell…in fact he wasn’t really from hell, even Satan cringed in his shadow. But not in a sense where we feared him, anything but, he was just a fat cunt.
Other than the time he tried to bollock me as I sat down with a paper and coffee at work one weekday afternoon. He accused me of slacking off and I should be out on the yard looking for customers. I looked at him with a look of discontent, and calmly said to him from behind my paper that I was just taking time out from the funeral I had just attended before getting up the mental strength before drinking for one of my best mates who had committed suicide.
But the time when we knew for a fact he was as welcome as sliced ham in a synagogue was during a morning meeting with our Sales Manager. Results weren’t great (except for me and Rob who were creaming it that month) when Ian came into the office and pinned an advert to the wall. Looking at us collectively, he yelled “This is the ad that is scheduled for the Herald on Wednesday. I have advertised for new salespeople to replace you useless fuckwits!” and stormed out.
Like I said…cunt.
The post script to this is that Rob dobbed him in to the owner (and one very powerful personality) for fraud where he ended up losing his job, his wife, massive house, cars, and was pretty much told ‘he would never work in this country again’. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.