Remember how I said in my first post that while my job satisfaction has plummeted substantially in the last month (coinciding with the arrival of the new boss) that my entertainment fodder quotient had gone up? Well, one of the lovely manifestations of that has been words and phrases derived from my boss’ name to describe certain of his (innumerable) compulsive and annoying behaviors–most of which have evolved from lunch-time bitch sessions with my coworkers.
So, not only does my boss look like a caricature (think those costume glasses with the big fake nose and ample mustache), but he has a name fit for a porn star or a detective in a crime novel; It’s one of those names that you are like, “I can’t believe someone actually has that name … for real.” It is also a name born for manipulating. Now, while I can’t outright tell you his first and last name … I can tell you a story that is a shining example of one of those masterful manipulations of his name:
So, my boss comes to me this past week and pointed out (just to point out, mind you, as there was no reason that I needed to be consulted about this) that he wanted a change made to the Table of Contents (TOC) from when he proofed it that I didn’t make before I gave it back to the art department (again, no reason to tell me as the art department would have to make the change at this stage in the game). Outright act of defiance you may ask? No, I mean it would be fitting, but in actuality it was just a sound judgment call on my part. I know what you are thinking … of course I would think it was a sound judgment call since it was mine, but after editing for several years, I have learned to not let my ego get in the way of my actions … unlike some other people I know, namely my boss, whose ego apparently drives all his actions.
Now, to understand the decision I made, you need to understand a bit about the TOC. I create the TOC every month, and have done so for the last two years when I moved up the editorial ranks. It’s an easy job and requires me taking the titles and decks (a phrase, sentence, or several sentences near the title of an article or story) from all the articles in that issue and (with slight trims or additions when necessary) making them fit on the two pages that make up the TOC. I’m sure you have all seen TOCs in magazines, so you get it. Anyway, the word change he wanted wasn’t as strong (bordering on nonsensical) as what was written initially, and on top of that, you would think he would be OK with what was written in the TOC for that article as he was OK with the deck in the actual article when he proofed it. Makes sense, right?
Yeah, unless you are my boss who likes to inject himself into things (conversations, personal and professional; the magazine; my life) unnecessarily. So, the name I devised to describe this unbearable (constant) behavior is INJACKTION (guess you can probably figure out my boss’ first name by now). Get it, injection, in-jack-tion … I’m sure you do …
So, I overrode this injacktion (which was not the better decision) only to be shot down at the pass. When he confronted me, I tried to explain my actions, which just elicited a series of neanderthalesque grumbling noises interspersed between the sentiment “Doesn’t make sense that way.”
Well, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right? Following on his logic, I asked him if we should change the deck in the article too (you know, to “make sense”). He shot that down as well with a hearty “not necessary.” I mean after all, what was I thinking … important to be clear in the TOC and not in the article I guess … Anyway, you get the point.
The moral of this story? The better decision isn’t always the right decision when your boss is a not-so-smart egomaniac.
Perhaps some shenanigans are in order?