My boss left my co-worker and I another email this morning.
“From now on, I am to be called as soon as the first person comes in. I am also to be called as soon as the second person comes in. No excuses for this. The office should be unlocked at 8:50 am so you can be ready to work at 9. I think if this were any other job, you would not be so lax.”.
He writes these emails every 3 or 4 months to let us know that he’s still in charge. We’re supposed to call him at home… to wake him up… to start the business day. And no, he doesn’t work from home. The office is set up in a mortgaged house in a nice neighborhood with a nice address.
The boss has told us in one of his emails to take what he has written as a statement of fact from our employer and we’re not, under any circumstances, to respond. He likes to remind us of what a typical CPA firm is like and tries to instill some kind of guide for our behavior.
The reality is that if this were any other job, a bee probably would not have stung me. I remember hearing the boss say, “Hey, careful, there’s honey in that wall!” as the beekeepers gauged what strength “Bee-Gone” juice to use on a wall holding at least a million bees. “Yeah, I could take that honey and sell it!” he said, always the enterprising CPA living a dual reality.
He spends a good part of his time traveling the country on his Harley as a “professional” photojournalist, dabbles as a rock drummer and the rest of the time manages other people’s money. But all the while trying like hell to find the one thing that would make him a fortune and retire. Yeah… Mr. Big Shot’s Rocking’ Honey of Hollywood!
One time, a duck ended up in our front yard. This duck traversed the 8-foot wall that separates our front lawn from the street. One of Mr. Big Shot’s dogs, Brutus, got a hold of this duck so Mr. Big Shot brought the duck in thinking it might be injured. It was the end of the workday and he put the duck in the back bathroom for safekeeping. He left a dog bowl full of water so the duck wouldn’t go thirsty overnight. Mr. Big Shot closed the door and I shuddered to think that this duck’s life somehow might end up my responsibility.
Twenty-four hours later, I had completely forgotten about the duck. Mr. Big Shot comes in the office around 1pm. “How’s the duck?” I look up, “Oh! The duck, oh my goodness!”
We both run to the back bathroom. Mr. Big opens the door and a plume of steam escapes from the room. It’s like looking into a steam bath! My first thoughts are this duck is a dead duck! But no, I see the duck! Through the steam up on a ledge… making duck sounds. The duck lives! The duck attempted to open one of the faucets on the sink. He chose incorrectly and turned on the hot water. Imagine how much steam hot water makes in over 12 hours?!
If this were any other job, would I have had to take a day and a half off because the skunk stench in the office was so bad that the haz-mat team from the local fire department was called out? The neighbors thought some kind of gas line had exploded and a deadly gas was permeating their homes. As 2 firemen and 1 fire department official walked through the house measuring for leakage, the boss scrambled to hide what might be laying out on his desk that he wouldn’t want “the law” to see.
If this were any other job, would the boss be sleeping face down on the couch just 5 feet from my desk? Would I have to tell him that his moaning in his sleep was making me uncomfortable? Would I have to tell him to close his fly when he stood up, promenading up the hallway from our office to his, bed covers draped over his shoulders in some sick regal way with the bottom cover dragging behind him all sorts of dogs hair, crumpled up mounds bar wrappers that the beasts dug out of the garbage and copies of old tax returns from clients that had come and gone??
If this were any other job!