Bosses

// The Bossest Bosses: A List Of The Top Bosses

By Joey Camire .
12.27.09 // Bosses

I’ve got issues.  I do.  I’m big enough to admit it.  I have trouble with authority… primarily because I’ve always thought myself smarter than the majority of the bosses I’ve had.  Great.  I’ve divulged the fact that I am an arrogant insubordinate asshole.  I always knew this site would be a great career move.

All that said, though, there are certain bosses you know you would absolutely love to work for.  Even douchey underlings like myself would wake up in a state of elation at the prospect of going to work in the morning. Whistling “Good Morning Sunshine” and dancing in the shower.  You know, that annoying shit you might see in the opening montage of a movie… except you would actually be doing it yourself every day of your life.

Now you’re probably saying “Really? Who could give me such a wonderful feeling as I prepare for work everyday?”  The truth is, I’m not sure.  Everyone has a different personality and wants different things from their work life. However, I’ve compiled a list of the people I would love to work for.  A sort of all-time greatest boss list, if you will .

Santa – Okay, you might be thinking one or more of the following: North Pole, No Vacation, Naughty List.  You’re not wrong, the North Pole is in fact remote, you will work year round, and your boss will always know if you’ve been naughty or nice.  However, Santa Clause Inc. has consistently made the Forbes top 20 employers list.  They boast one of the best 401K/benefit packages in the world.  And let’s not even get into the in-office cafeteria… 24/7 milk and cookies is an often under-appreciated perk.  Couple this all with the fact that all employees are essentially cloistered in close quarters and you have the makings for some serious in toyshop love connections.  You’ve heard “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” well that was actually invented by the North Pole, they just actually know how to keep their mouths shut. ‘Nuff said.

Stephen Segal – I mean this one should speak for itself.  He’s Stephen fucking Segal.  He’s a legend. Have you even seen “On Deadly Ground?”  If you work for Stephen Segal you essentially get the perk of a body guard as your boss.  So, if you’re having any issues, maybe someone wants to rough you up a bit, look into a job with “The Steve”… But don’t call him that. No. That is a privilege.  The one downfall is you pretty much can’t fuck up or you will taste the wrath of some lethal Akido.  I don’t actually know what that is, but I do know that it will pretty much break anyone’s elbow, and is only rivaled by DMX’s street fighting in “Exit Wounds.”

Stephen King – I can’t totally be sure about this one, thus he is aptly placed in third.  However, I am fairly certain working for Stephen King would be one of those strange coming of age type stories… but with magic.  He would be the really strange sensei type character offering me wisdom only in the form of parables or haikus and then place me in extremely perilous situations where I would be forced to figure out those nuggets on my own or face certain doom.  Of course, being the person I am, I would narrowly avoid some sort of magical peril and learn my lesson.  Plus he might teach me how to write better pieces than this swill you are currently consuming… though of course it would follow a path loosely reminiscent of “The Page Master” with Macaulay Culkin, or at least that’s how I dream it.

Tony Danza – Come on. This guy had a show about how freakin’ Italian and BOSS he is.  To this day I still vacuum the way he does in the intro. I’m not kidding. Plus he was a pro boxer, and I feel like that has to count for something.  Also if he at any point over the course of the life of the series slept with Judith Light (Angela) or Alyssa Milano (when she came of age) you can switch his spot with Stephen Segal.  I’m serious.  He earned it.  In spades

Rick Ross – This guy wrote a song about how boss he was, and everyone agreed that he was right.  There were no livid editorials in Source or Complex demanding a recanting of such egregious lies, nay, it reached #17 on the billboard top 100 at its peak.  An affirmation of his status as “the Boss.”  Had I written such a song, claiming to be in charge of any number of employees, there would have been an uproar.  People could see through that.  Additionally it would be nice to have Rick Ross as your boss for the immediate boost in street cred he would afford his underlings.  I live in Bed-Stuy and I could use some.

Myself -  While I am currently no one’s boss, as you’ve learned from this piece, I’d probably be really great at it.  I have all the qualities a great boss needs; I’m always right… even when I’m wrong, I think I’m smarter than everyone else, I’m a great judge of character as you can tell from the list of people I want to work for, and anyone who worked for me would most definitely wake up singing everyday.  I’m still not ready to take the role yet though, mostly because I haven’t come into any mystical powers yet.  Santa has magic corn and a workshop, Segal has pure badassness, Stephen King has the creepy wisdom and possible dark portals, Tony Danza had a show and Rick Ross had an album.  However once I get a skill, I’ll be THE BOSS!

View Comments / Dec 27.09 / Bosses / by Joey Camire

// Jackel’s Difference

By Charles Hodges .
12.26.09 // Bosses

When Allibaster woke up, he reached over and grabbed a a few packages of moist towelettes from the box next to the bed.  Every month he took a box of the towelettes from Jackel’s, the barbecue joint where he worked the register and cleaned.  He couldn’t always depend on the cabin having running water, so stealing the towelettes was more of a necessity than a luxury.

After cleaning his face, he got up and walked over to the kitchen area. He looked at the picture of his parents, the only one he was able to salvage from the fire, while pouring a glass of generic label cranberry juice.  He fed his hamster, Marny, some fiber pills.  He saw the blinking 12:00. “Fuck,” he said, realizing he was late.  He got dressed, locked the door, ran the half mile up to the main house and said good morning to Mrs. Greely.

“Nice to see you, Allibaster,” she said as she directed the landscapers in the side garden.
“Think I can get a ride into town?”
“Can’t do it today.  Have to wait on the painters.”
“Oh, no problem.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.”

Most days he didn’t mind walking, but today he needed the ride.  His boss, Jessica, told him that one more time of being late and he would be fired.  He walked far enough down the driveway so that Mrs. Greely wouldn’t be offended, then he took off on a sprint.

Two miles later, as he came running into the gravel parking lot, Jessica stood outside.  Jessica Umphry had always been a big girl, but when she took over Jackal’s from her father, she really let herself go.  First, it was grazing on the riblets.  Next, it was the baked beans (doctor’s orders she said).  Then, it was the pulled pork breakfasts.  In years prior, she had had many chins, but now it was as if they had gotten tired of being independent states and formed one solid union.  As a result, she had a single gobbler that mirrored the movements of her mouth – all movements that is except for frowning, which, lucky for her, was what she did most of the time anyway.  She was kind to customers because it was good business, but those that worked for her weren’t so lucky.

“Allibaster, what’d I say about being late?” she said picking fat from a pork breakfast out of her teeth with a blue toothpick.
“That it better not happen again.”
“Then why are you late?”
“My alarm clock – power went off in the middle of the night.”
“I didn’t hear no rain last night,” she said slowly chewing the toothpick and looking at the sky.
“Well it did at the Greely’s.  You can ask Jeff if he comes in later.  The power that is, not the rain. I know it didn’t rain.”
“I don’t need to ask Jeff nothing. Just you know that I can have someone else behind that register faster than you can say salmon cream cheese, so you better watch out.”
“Yes, Jessica.”
“Alright then, but this is the last time. Now get inside and help Moses set the tables up. High today is thirty-five.  You know how the bankers come here when it’s cold.”

Allibaster went in the side door and put on his apron.  He flicked on the ancient bulbs in the dining area and the light fell on the white and red checkered cloths that covered the picnic tables.  There, in the corner booth, sat Moses, old, blind, folding silverware into napkins.

“Morning, Allibaster,” Moses said over the hum of the lights that had broken the silence he had been enjoying.
“Hey, Moses.”
“You lose power last night?” Moses asked.
“Yeah, my alarm clock went out – reason I’m late.”
“That’s what’s wrong with you, boy,” Moses said continuing to fold the napkins, “you rely too much on technology. All of you do.  Gonna be the death of you.”
Allibaster walked over and started to straighten chairs.
“So I guess I’m supposed to just wake up with the sun?”
“That’s what I do.”
“How? You’re blind.”
“I still feel it on my eyes, boy.  Just like deaf people can see the piano keys.”
“Is that a tease?” Allibaster said knocking over some salt.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I guess you’re right. Did you lose power last night?” he said wiping the salt on the ground.
“Yeah, but the only casualty was milk.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, I reckon.”

–

Allibaster brought the day’s take back to the office and set it down in front of Jessica.

“That’s quite a day, Allibaster,” she said thumbing through the fives.
“Yep, sure is. Those bankers, you should see the tip jar.”
Jessica put the fives down, sat back in her chair and blew smoke through her nose.
“You know what’s different about Jackel’s, different from any other barbecue place?”
“The sauce?” Allibaster said staring at a picture of Jessica and her father fishing at the Greely’s pond, the one right beside his cabin.
“The sauce, Allibaster. That’s right, the sauce. We don’t use no tomato based shit do we?”
“No.”
“And what do we use?”
“Vinegar.”
“Vinegar, Allibaster. That’s right, vinegar.”
Jessica stood up and grabbed a gallon of vinegar on the stock shelf. She started shaking it around. Her cigarette was dangling from her lip.
“Vinegar, vinegar, vinegar,” she said through her cigarette, her chin waggling with each syllable.
Allibaster stood in the doorway and didn’t know what to make of the spectacle. Jessica saw his face and stopped chanting. She put the jar down and got real close to Allibaster’s face, so close he could smell the bourbon on her breath.
“And do you know what makes me different, Allibaster?”
“No, what?”
She closed her eyes and got almost close enough to kiss him.
“Patience,” she said with the p popping a waft of bourbon into Allibaster’s nose, “I have ppppatience.”
“That’s nice,” he said, stepping back.
“And no one else does! Look around you,” she said as she opened her eyes and spun around, “the whole world gone to hell in a handbasket because they can’t wait for a damn thing. Now! Now! Now is when everybody wants it. Now!” she said slamming her fist down on the desk and looking up at Allibaster.
“Well that’s,” he said before she interrupted.
“Well that’s what, Allibaster? The way things are? The way it has to be?”
“No, but -”
“But what Allibaster?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s right, you don’t know, because no one knows. No one knows what it takes to wait, because they never wait for shit,” she said panting and taking a sip of her coffee and bourbon.  She sat back down, lit another cigarette and rephrased her question.
“You know what’s different about Jackel’s, different from the barbecue anyone else could make?”
“The sauce?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing, except we are willing to wait for it. We’re willing to wait for it to cook. If they had the time, they could do it. But they don’t. They don’t have the time. So we do it. And they buy it.”
“Oh, well I guess that makes sense.”
“Do you know what my psychic told me?”
“What?”
“That I have a strong life line. That I’m going to live to be one-hundred and six.”
“Well that’s good, Jessica.”
“No, it’s not. That’s a lot of years.”
“I wouldn’t look at it that way.”
“I’ll take that into consideration, Allibaster,” she said as she put her feet up on the desk and put her hands behind her head.  Then she closed her eyes with her cigarette in her mouth.

–

When he came home, he looked into Marny’s cage to see if she was able to make a bowel movement yet. Nothing. She was growing by the day. This had been going on for two weeks. It was as if she was saving all of the food he had fed her.  He stared at the pond outside, long shadows fell through the one-room cabin and he wondered if she knew something that he did not.

View Comments / Dec 26.09 / Bosses / by Charles Hodges

// My Bosses:

By Jake Dubs .
12.25.09 // Bosses

View Comments / Dec 25.09 / Bosses / by Jake Dubs

// All I Want For Christmas is a J-O-B

By Alex Aloise .
12.25.09 // Bosses

View Comments / Dec 25.09 / Bosses / by Alex Aloise

// Santa changed my view on life forever.

By Ben Cheney .
12.23.09 // Bosses

Santa was my first boss. I worked at the mall as one of Santa’s helpers. My duties mainly consisted of taking pictures, trying to calm terrified children, and chatting with Santa when business was slow or when he was eating chicken nuggets. The latter of my duties is what I wish to talk about.

As is normal with any job, you learn things from your boss, whether you like it or not and whether they try to teach you or not. In this case, I don’t think Santa had any idea what he was doing. Regardless, this is what Santa taught me:

1. “Never eat the chicken nuggets at Popeye’s, they’ll retard your colon for a week.”

2. “MASH was a bunch of crap. The war was nothing like that and those silly games never turn out the way I want them to.”

3. “A triangle is more than just a shape, it is an object of magnificent proportions. Especially those isosolese guys, they’re like butter on a hot rod on Easter.”

4. Santa spends June 17th at the beach with a Coca-Cola in one hand and a beachball in the other pretending to be a Hallmark ornament.

5. There is only one important question a man must answer in his life, “Do I like booties or boobies better?”

6. “Reading is for sissies.”

7. “Even though it seems like a great idea, watering plants with bourbon is not a great idea.”

8. “There is nothing wrong with dating your own family members. It’s how this whole damn thing got started in the first place.”

View Comments / Dec 23.09 / Bosses / by Ben Cheney

// On The Non-Traditional Career Path

By Sarah Pappalardo .
12.22.09 // Bosses

View Comments / Dec 22.09 / Bosses / by Sarah Pappalardo

// More than one.

By Tristan Smith .
12.21.09 // Bosses

I have had many bosses. I don’t think I’ve ever been the boss of anyone.
I think this is a bad mix, a bad recipe, all sour and yeasty, and it makes me afraid for the day when I am FORMALLY awarded command over another person’s life.
Because I think that’s what a job is. It’s your life. “In terms of stress levels, losing your job is equivalent of a death in the family” says some guy in that new Jason Reitman movie. So if all goes according to plan, I will be a reaper that sits near you, a scythe folded neatly under my desk.
And because I’ve lived sycophantically for so many year previous, I’ll expect the same out of you. I’ll expect you to watch my feet below my glass door, checking if I’m still around before you slink out for the night, back to your homes and bars for a few hours before you must rest and grind your teeth, before you have to assemble in the morning in front of your cold mirror the new-again sun. And I’ll expect you to think of new and exciting ways to say “yes, I agree” and “that’s a great idea”.

The philosopher Erich Fromm proposed that increased freedom results in increased isolation.
So what happens when you are the lord of others?
When you have more freedom only in the sense that you hold a dozen additional freedoms, the freedoms of others, slung over your back in a canvas duffle bag while you wait for your train home.

View Comments / Dec 21.09 / Bosses / by Tristan Smith