Conflict with the boss. We’ve all been there, except for the 65% percent of Hard Drive’s readership that our latest polling tells me comprises the unemployed, traveling performance artists, and career criminals. You want to do things one way, your boss wants them done a different way, you get mad, he gets mad, you make a few good points. You think he’s going to admit you’re right, but then he flashes red and shifts away from the actual argument toward veiled threats to fire you, so you cave. I and 35% of the people reading this have been there.
Well, today I didn’t cave! I had been working on this project for six fucking months without any goddamn help from him, and I’ll be damned if I was going to roll over and change the whole thing at the last minute for him. This is my work, and if he wanted more input on how I did it the time for that was any time before now. He wants to fire me? Fine, fire me! Just remember who made that call when the guys upstairs are on your ass because this whole department fell apart!
So he kinda reels back in this weird slow-motion looking way that I had never really soon before, and he sulks back to his office, and I’m thinking, hell yeah, way to stand up for yourself! So I head back to my desk too, and I try to get back to doing my actual work, but something’s bugging me and I can’t quite focus. I can’t really clock what it is at first, but I kinda stop and think, and I realize the music from the argument is still playing! Now that’s never happened to me before, so I don’t really know what’s going on here. I figure I’ll go retrace my steps a bit and see if it goes away.
So when I get back to the spot where we were actually arguing, my boss has the blinds on the little internal windows open, so I can see in pretty well. He’s in there, right, and he’s doing this whole elaborate routine. Like, he’s kind of grabbing his head and thrashing around, and then he puts his hands out at his side and screams. Like holy shit dude, I think you broke the local noise ordinance there, let alone company policy. And he drops to one knee and starts pulling something out from under his desk, and I can’t see what it is at first, but then he stands up straight and he’s holding this giant fuck-off sword!
So naturally, I punch the fire alarm and run off screaming, and that’s why I need you to pick me up. Also, shit, I am so sorry about this, but do you think you can swing paying my bail? I swear to god I’ll pay you back soon, I just finished this big project at work and I’m supposed to be getting a solid bonus out of it.
