Archive for the 'Hall of Shame' Category

I have worked at the same company for several years. My first supervisor hired me because I was a nice looking woman (he was married, I was single). After 3 1/2 years he called me to his office to tell me he thought about me all the time. I had previously seen another man and my boss thought after 8 months break up from the other man I “had enough time to be over him”! Then my boss called me back a week or so later to give me a Valentine’s card and a box of cheap chocolates. Then he started showing up at my house uninvited. I eventually left that department because he wouldn’t leave me alone. I knew I would be blamed if I accused him of sexual harrassment, I worked in an all male enviroment and was told right off the bat I wasn’t wanted there because I was a woman. Eventually he was forced out because he put his hands on a secretary– he was close to retirement at that point. The department I went to heard I’d had an affair with this supervisor and would rather believe someone who was known for chasing than believe me. The reason I have stayed is because I have a lot to lose: very good retirement, pay, and benefits. I have thought many times about leaving but now I only have 6 years left.

Yes this happens in America and yes you can get away with A LOT if you belong to the right clique. I hate the politics, back-slapping, good ole boy system, I see very little honesty in the workplace and actually am ashamed I work for my employer. I guess some people have no conscience and can actually look at themselves in the mirror while they cause hell for another person, which has led to health problems for me. But as for the old saying “what goes around comes around,” I have seen some things come around and I hope they keep on coming around for those without any workplace ethics.–Submitted by Wan, location withheld

It might sound strange to call a man a “diva,” but that is really the only word I can think of to describe my boss’s worldview. Like a moderately talented starlet who’s had a few number one videos on TRL, my boss walks around viewing the world through a bubble where he obviously deserves to be catered to by everyone around him. Sometimes when I talk to him my mind conjures up a picture of a spoiled brat stamping his foot and wailing when his mommy won’t buy him ice cream.

The infamous cell phone incident comes to mind. It is a normal day in the middle of the week during one of my first few months working in the office. I’ve won some, I’ve lost some, but I’m generally feeling like I’m capable of doing most of the things he might ask me to do. Clearly, I thought too soon. During one of his 4,294,3270 daily calls to the office to see if “anything’s doing,” he slips it in as if it’s the easiest thing in the world:

“Can you call the cell phone company and get me a new cell phone?” I hesitate, sift through my mental notes, and remember that he sent back a “broken” one earlier in the summer.

“Sure,” I say, feeling intensely relieved that I have the faintest clue what he’s talking about (more often than not, this is not the case).

“I want a really thin, sleek one. With a camera. A ‘Razr’ phone. But make sure it’s a really thin Razr. Not just any old one.” Never mind that the “Razr” is the name of the model and it only comes in one width–I quickly assure him that I will get him the thinnest, tiniest, insee-beensiest Razr money can buy. “No, no. I don’t want to pay for it. I want it replaced for free.” My stomach drops.

“I’ll do what I can?” I offer warily.

“Goodthanksbye [CLICK].” (It’s never a genuine ‘thanks’ for the pretzels I turn myself into to get him what he wants; it’s a one word afterthought offered only because of convention.) I put off the dreaded call to the cell phone company for as long as I can, but Solitaire, JCrew.com and the Best of Craigslist can only offer so much solace from the inevitable.

“Thankyouforcalling [REDACTED], thenation’smosteffectivewirelessnetwork, mynameis [MUMBLE MUMBLE] howmayIhelpyou?”

“Um, yes…I’m calling on behalf of my employer? He’s very unhappy with his phone, and he is hoping to have it replaced with a new one?” I proceed to jump through approximately 5,638 hoops, involving giving various forms of verifcation that I am, in fact, allowed to take action on his account. I talk to approximately 492 different people, in approximately 84 departments, until I finally hit a dead end. I have no choice but to get my boss on the line with me with the “Customer Care” department representative.

Continue reading ‘horror story epic: phoning it in’

I worked for a senior writer at a men’s magazine. He was super cute and we had cute banter, but I figured it would never amount to more than a crush. After my goodbye dinner, he invited me out for a nightcap. Being the naive 24-year old that I was, I went. At least I had the brains to question when he started rubbing my arm. Unfortunately, once I was in the middle-aged man’s East Village walk-up, I was putty in his hands. He was my artistic “Mr. Big.” Maybe I was entranced by him, looked up to him, or was looking for a story to tell my friends, but what I found was more than I could bargain for. His apartment had purple walls. The bathroom was full of Kiehl’s moisturizer. And he waxed his balls! Was he gay?

After months of being on-again, off-again, what I thought was love wasn’t, and I didn’t know what it was until years later when I was working in a literary agency and a young woman came in to interview for an assistant position. I came to find out that not only did she intern for the same guy, but she “dated” him post her tenure and, as he did with me, he promised trips that never happened and made her think she was in love, when all she was left with were questions like, “what was that?” and, of course, “how does he get his balls so smooth?” -Submitted by Roxie, New York City

My company is really casual. We all wear jeans and T-shirts and there’s even a yoga class once a week. Unfortunately, my boss takes being casual a little too far. He wears very baggy pants and shirts- they’re like two sizes too big. When he doesn’t shave, he looks homeless. But the worst part is that he takes “casual” to apply to his work habits. He puts his smelly feet up on the desk and eats on his lap without a napkin, getting crumbs all over the floor. It’s so gross.

I could tolerate all of habits except for one thing: he scratches his balls. All the time. Sometimes he scratches them so hard I think they’re going to fall off.  He likes to come right up to my desk and scratch his balls while he’s talking to me about something. Since I’m sitting and he’s standing up, his crotch is at eye level! It’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. To make matters worse, when I tried to look away he would ask me to pay attention, like he thought I wasn’t listening. Finally, one day I decided to be passive-agressive about it and leave an anonymous typed note on his desk asking him to keep his jock-itching down to a minimum. It must have worked, because he hardly ever does it anymore. -Submitted by Danny, New York City