Soooo yeah. I got in trouble again at the Asylum yesterday. Lulu has decided that Friday is "yell at Mahala" day.
The GM came strolling in around 8:15 and as he passed Bossman's office, he asked the GM to step inside. The door was closed and I knew I was being raked over the coals again. After about ten minutes, the GM went back to his own office and I was called in by Bossman. He was sitting behind his desk waving another piece of paper around, shaking all over and having a melt down.
Apparently there was an email I didn't answer back in June when he was out for a week. When I tried to say anything, he cut me off, yelled and verbally put me in my place. I'm pretty sure he didn't notice that I never closed his door when I went inside.
At first, I was all in a wad. I went back to my desk, my gut filled with anxiety, trying to breathe. I dug around in my purse for those magic little "losing my chit" pills. Soon after that, something snapped. The inner dialogue playing in my head started sounding like Kat Williams.
I was not going to cry. I was pissed off.
I sat there, slamming drawers and muttering to myself, "mutha fucker tryin' to PLAY me. I dunno who that mutha fucker THINKS he's dealing with but that bald headed little shit done when and barked up the WRONG mutha fuckin' tree. Gettin' all up in my face like he think's he ghetto or somechit, I'm gonna own his podunk ass."
Suddenly, I wasn't the middle aged woman who's been living in Frog Pond Holler for 17 years. I was the girl who grew up in Ballantine Place on the slightly shady side of Norfolk. The girl who could hold her own out by "the wall" at Booker T. Washington High School. One of the hoods.
I found parts of the real me that I've worked so hard to beat down and bury in my effort to fit in here.
I don't know what came of his later discussions with the GM. I know I didn't get fired and I know he was so pissed off that he stayed holed up in his office with the door shut all afternoon after the GM left.
He wants me fired. No doubt.
He's in for a fight.
And ya'll? Your comments and advice keep me going.. and I'm not just saying that to blow smoke up your behinds. I mean it. I'd hug all ya'll if I could.
I'd better get cracking on some laundry or I'll have to go to work naked on Monday and I'm pretty sure that would violate some policy.
Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.
Later Taters.
The GM came strolling in around 8:15 and as he passed Bossman's office, he asked the GM to step inside. The door was closed and I knew I was being raked over the coals again. After about ten minutes, the GM went back to his own office and I was called in by Bossman. He was sitting behind his desk waving another piece of paper around, shaking all over and having a melt down.
Apparently there was an email I didn't answer back in June when he was out for a week. When I tried to say anything, he cut me off, yelled and verbally put me in my place. I'm pretty sure he didn't notice that I never closed his door when I went inside.
At first, I was all in a wad. I went back to my desk, my gut filled with anxiety, trying to breathe. I dug around in my purse for those magic little "losing my chit" pills. Soon after that, something snapped. The inner dialogue playing in my head started sounding like Kat Williams.
I was not going to cry. I was pissed off.
I sat there, slamming drawers and muttering to myself, "mutha fucker tryin' to PLAY me. I dunno who that mutha fucker THINKS he's dealing with but that bald headed little shit done when and barked up the WRONG mutha fuckin' tree. Gettin' all up in my face like he think's he ghetto or somechit, I'm gonna own his podunk ass."
Suddenly, I wasn't the middle aged woman who's been living in Frog Pond Holler for 17 years. I was the girl who grew up in Ballantine Place on the slightly shady side of Norfolk. The girl who could hold her own out by "the wall" at Booker T. Washington High School. One of the hoods.
I found parts of the real me that I've worked so hard to beat down and bury in my effort to fit in here.
I don't know what came of his later discussions with the GM. I know I didn't get fired and I know he was so pissed off that he stayed holed up in his office with the door shut all afternoon after the GM left.
He wants me fired. No doubt.
He's in for a fight.
And ya'll? Your comments and advice keep me going.. and I'm not just saying that to blow smoke up your behinds. I mean it. I'd hug all ya'll if I could.
I'd better get cracking on some laundry or I'll have to go to work naked on Monday and I'm pretty sure that would violate some policy.
Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.
Later Taters.
9 comments:
My blood pressure rises every time you note what that man is doing.
For the record, HR is likely just adding page after page after page to his employee file, waiting for him to cross THE final line.
When that happens, well. A Corporate Lawyer will likely show up at your office, wanting to talk to you. Be sure to have your HR Advocate with you, and DON'T SIGN ANYTHING.
Not without a lawyer or a pal from the EEOC with you, anyway.
Keep fighting, M. I am proud of you beyond words.
Best advice I can offer you right now is "Document, Document and Document some more!" Everything! Any interactions you have with him! And above all, keep maintaining a very cool front. Don't ever let 'em see you sweat, ya know! Hang tight, Girl!
Jeni gives wise advice. Take your notebook with you EVERYWHERE.
When he calls you in to his tirades, take it with you and write everything down. It might make him mad, but your defense is that you are ensuring that you heed his every word.
Be sure to carry your employee handbook with you, too.
I am speaking from experience. It sounds like Jeni is, too.
Having a real hard time reading and keeping up with commenting but I am SO proud of you!! Sounds like you're doing everything you need to do to keep bossman at bay and refute anything else he tries to lay on you. He sounds like a miserable human being.
But you - you are my hero!
this may sound underhanded and sneaky but if i were you i'd be buying a small easily concealed recording device to bring with me when these 'discussions' occur, especially ones of just you and this twat tickler. you know, just in case he claims something different and there are no witnesses
stand your ground Mahala. i truly believe this is all going to work out in your favor. and i think Tori is right - Bossman is trying to deflect attention from something HE'S done. what a snake.
The recorder isnt a bad idea. Keep your cool and don't let him get the best of you! Proud of you.
I wonder how bent he would get if you didn't hide the recorder. lol I mean you could... but how far off his game would he be if you boldly just said "one moment please"... pulled it out of your purse... turned it on and said the date and then smiled at him and said "continue" Although he may totally lose his shit. May want a second recorder just in case.
Don't mind me... I am evil. You go get him Mahala!! We're all behind ya!
I agree with Anne. Set the recorder up on the desk and say This is for the record. LOL. Might make his head explode.
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