After a brief respite from the last job I had, I inherited a HUGE problem concerning the company water bill and the very old building in which the business was headquartered. The voluminous file had been playing "Pass the Buck" for months until my return, so, being the mensch that I was, I assured my boss (let's call him SKEEVE CHUMPUS) that I would take care of the entire mess. He looked amazingly like Ebeneezer Scrooge as he gleefully rubbed his hands together gleefully, snorting "Oh, I know you will!"
Then I said "Okay, whatever MY writing brings back, we'll split it.." and he said YES.
Letter #1 brought a response and a paltry amount. Indignant, I re-wrote letter #2 and managed to get Mister Republican Cheapskate a $1,400 credit. He called from Manhattan, on his way back to the office, and when I informed him of the results, I could hear him salivating at the prospect of GASP! *more money!!!!!* When he returned, he made a beeline for my office, read the letter, smiled and then I reminded him of our little agreement.
"Uhh, but you don't pay all the other expenses here.....how 'bout I buy you an ice cream cone instead??"
This, from a 'man' who was sitting on $20+ million at the time??!
HOW 'BOUT YOU JUST STAB ME IN THE BACK INSTEAD, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING??
Well, Skeeverino, you may recall that I promised, one day, to write about this charming memory of just one of your too-many-to-count despicable "boss decisions" and so that day has arrived.
And if, by some chance, this wends its Karmic way to your beady little eyes, it might also interest you to know that your employees had a nickname for you: think the Rolling Stones' GOAT'S HEAD SOUP and you'll get the idea. Except that's an insult to goats because your Dorian Gray portrait is EVER so much uglier than that.
If I were you, I wouldn't go anywhere near your attic...
