Mania in the Workplace

For about two and a half months one spring, I started showing up at work dressed impeccably, from my hair follicles to my feet.  As this level of grooming and primping requires a great deal of effort, I’d roll into the office around 10:30AM.  Ish.  Predictable to most, I drew the attention of my boss.

But, not in the way you may think.

Suddenly I had a lot more projects and a lot more meetings to attend, all of which included him.  He was the kind of guy that felt a little greasy, almost cute but, not quite.  Kinda like the cute guys brother.  Acceptable height, but at the bare minimum.  His wardrobe featured the ‘black mock turtleneck with a black suitcoat’ look, topped off with a goatee that tried to say “Yes I am a corporate drone, but I am also cool and hip, a bit of a bad boy.”  

I could tell by the way he carried himself that he thought he was a real catch. He thought he was a good looking, successful, envied BMW driver.  You know him, he’s that guy.  Sometimes that guy has a long, thin gray ponytail dangling behind a balding head. 

Side Note:  Why do people think they buy status with a older model BMW 3 series?  Do they think we will be all impressed with “BMW” and too stupid to know the 3’s are the cheapest?  All a BMW 3 says to the world is “I’m an asshole.”  Anyway -

He was interacting with me far too much, and I didn’t appreciate the extra workload.  It was really cutting into my laying around time.  I delegated what I could, but still.  He was staring at me more and more.  Then the staring pandemic expanded from meetings to include the cafeteria, then the hallway, then the gym, then business trips to Costa Rica.  Dude was on me like a heat seeking missile. 

Where-ever I turned, he was there.  I had no idea such power came from Chanel mascara and high heels.  Each morning, Gaping Mouth Hole would come slobbering around the corner to my office, unabashedly gawking and ogling me all over.   My perfume signaled my arrival.  It had become Pavlov’s bell. 

Guess who was the dog.  He would blather on about some bullshit task that didn’t need to be done, just so he could get his slimy eyeballs all over my Brooks Brothers suit. I’d swear there were times he was actually panting a little, but that can’t be confirmed. 

He would dramatically inhale, as if my perfume was a better high than huffing paint.  Not that I know what huffing paint is like, but I have seen “Intervention.”  And between you and me, I find saying “huffing paint” mildly pleasurable. 

Post-Chistmas Party After-Party

Truth be told, I couldn’t resist being the cat to his mouse.  I toyed with his affections for weeks.  When the company Christmas party came, let’s just say too much liquor instigated too much flirting.  OK FINE, I admit I kissed him.  In one night I had turned myself into his obsession.  This incident motivated me to find a psychiatrist.  Manic much?

Now the project meetings were just the two of us.  Now he started to get mean, trying to take back the power, trying to control me as my boss.  He didn’t expect me to match then exceed his tone.  We’d go round after round in a private conference room, admittedly I swore and yelled much more than he did.  My boss had no idea what to do with me.  I had yet to recognize that when my speech is in a thick Boston accent and I am swearing profusely, I am going into mania, or I’m already there. 

Kings of Leon Concert

He had yet to recognize I don’t back down.  Since force proved ineffective, he tried a different route.  He gave me two tickets to a concert, saying “You can take anyone you like.”  Clearly he assumed I’d ask him.  I didn’t.  I took my friend George and we had a blast.

The week after the concert, Mr Boss Man pulls me into a conference room and tells me I need to come in at 8AM like everyone else.  The only reason my arrival time suddenly mattered is because he suddenly lusted after me and wanted me there when he got there.  I said “Well, I’m not coming in at 8AM.  I schedule my meetings late morning, and work well into the evening.  There is no need for me to be here at 8AM.”  “Look, here’s a box” he draws an imaginary box on the table, “everyone fits in this box, we start at 8AM.”  I lost it.

“I never fit into a box Charlie that’s why you need me.  If you want some 8-5 ham n egger go hire one.  If you want the results I deliver, I come in mid-morning.  We both know you would need 2-3 new hires to replace me.  How will your numbers look then?”

“Look Brooke, it’s black and white.  We start at 8AM.”  “Shit Charlie!  God Himself could drop from the heavens and demand I be here at 8 and it still wouldn’t happen!  So, we’re at a stale mate I guess.  Now what?”

“Do we have to go to HR to discuss it?”  I exploded.  “That is a FABULOUS idea Charlie!  I have lots to report to HR!  Shall we go right now?  Let’s go right now Charlie!  You can tell them your story about boxes and I will tell them my story about harassment.  Let’s see who wins.”  Charlie declined the trip to HR.

The final act.  I had left for a dentist appointment.  He texted my cell in all caps that if I do not get him these documents in five minutes, he will start firing people and Nancy would be first.  I heavily relied on Nancy to help me run my organization.  He was going for the jugular.  I called him immediately.  “You arrogant, petty, narcissistic bastard!  How dare you threaten me with Nancy!  I am on vacation as of right fucking now!  DO NOT CONTACT ME AGAIN!  You hear me!!” Click.

I never did go back.  That turned out to be my grand exit.  Hey, at least I can say I went out with a bang.  He called and apologized to me for his behavior, which I thought was a riot given my own behavior.  During that week I had a MS Attack that left me disabled.  They held my job open for a year but, I have been unable to work following that attack. 

And that my friends concluded a successful 14 years at that company.