Sunday, May 6, 2012

Stressful Job

I used to work retail every evening and weekend of my life, then I worked catalog, and then I worked at a library which was my favorite job until I had the boss from hell. You know those people, they never actually work, they just sit around drinking diet soda and thinking up ways to make your life a living hell. They make friends with the head honchos and pitch their slimy ideas so that you—swamp moss—go home every night depressed and clutching books such as "Macrame Nooses for Dummies" or "How to Meditate Yourself into a Better Job" or "Chicken Soup for the Suicidal Soul."

This boss I had, she would roll her eyes anytime a library patron asked for help. Checking out books, handling books, answering phones—it was all beneath her. And so we were beneath her as well, because it was our destiny to do all that awful stuff of work and human relations. She disliked our very existence. Her door remained closed most hours of the day. One in a while I'd see her slip out to get another diet soda, aloof expression nailed to her face. She'd walk by, ignoring the low staffing, long lines, phones ringing off the hooks. One day a newbie asked her for help, because it was in this boss' description to contribute to the desk at least 20 hours a week, and she gave the newly hired young woman a brow beating. I myself had learned never to ask. The next day the girl was gone.

The worst came on a day when no one came in to work and I had to run the place alone. Lunchtime came and went. Someone from another department told me to go in the back and take a quick break, because it was the law. So I did. I ate as fast as I could, but the phones started ringing. I could hear customers' voices getting louder out front. From the break room I could see her office door, and never once did it open, never once did she pick up the phone. 

There's a lot of politics at your local library. I had to quit that job because of rules and egos. I still miss working there. I miss the books, the people, the atmosphere. But she's still there, so . . .

Anyone else have stories of a boss or job from hell? 

13 comments:

  1. Your boss from hell sounds like she lives in her own personal hell-- a very unhappy, unproductive, miserable human being. Funny that she's still there. How does someone like this even keep a job?

    ReplyDelete
  2. I do but since I retired I refuse to think of it anymore. My little gift to myself. I wonder why the "dead wood" always remains?

    ReplyDelete
  3. A stressful workplace is an inefficient workplace, therefore whoever is causing the stress should be booted out. It's the only solution.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. In a perfect world. Aye, but it doesn't exist.

      Delete
  4. I have to wonder also how such a person manages to retain their job. Altho, I know from current experience that sometimes even everyone complaining doesn't matter because those higher up than the awful person just don't want to be bothered and so it goes on, day after excruciating day. Hmm, in answer to your question? Yes, maybe not hell exactly, but definitely hellish.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's better than working at Walmart, haha. I did that after high school and boy, not fun.

      Delete
  5. Yes, and from a library. The lady you describe had the only phone on her desk. Usually the supervisor or this lady answered it. The supervisor went on vacation. The lady decided the peons, who sat far away should get up and answer the phone. We didn't. She roared: "You vill be made to answer the phone!" (She was German.) Some of us quit. Quite satisfying.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh no! What's with libraries and egos? My Mom had a similar experience at hers as well.

      Though, your boss sounds like the ultimate in evil. Yikes.

      Delete
  6. Amy, Karen commented exactly what I was thinking.

    ReplyDelete
  7. The only solution I can come up with is 'The Body in the Library' Too bad it's a moral dilemma...

    ReplyDelete
  8. I once worked for three owners of a company; it was just them and me. They hated each other and fought all the time. Then they took it out on me. I stayed there one year and a day after they gave me a generous raise, I resigned and took another job for less money. It was such a toxic environment and I hated going there every day, that I chose to make less, but have a better life.

    ReplyDelete

A Millennial romp through Jane Austen

  A few years back I wrote this story about a fifteen-year-old girl named Frankie drudging through a very complicated life in a fictional sm...