Boomer, do you have a minute?
It was El Jefe. He had a strange harried look to him as if he were fishing for trout and was worried he was wearing incorrect shoes for it.
You mean now? I was about to run something?
I twiddled two fingers at my screen like an Irish magician.
El Jefe grunted and made a jerky jerky motion with his head in the direction of the nearest meeting room. Then he looked around as if worried someone might be watching.
I gazed at him impassively.
Yes. Now!!
He hissed.
I sighed and tossed my head to the side like a teenager asked to clean their room.
El Jefe closed the door and bobbed with a curious nervous energy to the chair across from me and sat.
Survey results are in. It's not good.
He said tersely.
I looked at him as if he was an impertinent badger hanging about my garden at night making hooting noises.
What survey?
I asked.
The Staff Survey, doofus?!!?
He snapped with his usual tact.
Ah yes. The Staff Survey.
I smiled like my tongue was a wild animal trying to escape from my mouth.
We all knew about the Staff survey. It was an anonymous affair that was issued yearly to all of the permanent staff. We used it to take cheap potshots at the management and tell them how awful it was to be under their yoke.
We had all been particularly mean this year.
El Jefe was glaring at me.
Yes, the staff survey. The results are in and frankly, they are terrible. The senior executive team are going off their chump about it.
He leant forward.
Some of the comments are.... unkind, to say the least.
He sat back again and looked at me hard as if I were a Belgian sausage and he was a hungry French dog.
Oh, that's a shame.
I said with my patented That's not a shame face.
In fact some of the comments in particular look a little... Familiar?
El Jefe said with a low growl as if he were a French dog that had just eaten a disagreeable Belgian Sausage.
Cards on the table, do people out there think I am a bad manager?! Did you say I was a bad manager?!?
He looked all trembly and fighty at the same time as if he wanted to punch me then make love to me.
Who me!? Oh no. I didn't write any comments. I never do in these things due to my latent paranoia that they are not as anonymous as they say.
I beamed at him as if I were a loyal dog and not one that had stolen the bacon from his plate mere moments ago.
He looked at me distrustingly.
Ok. Right. Cool. It's just that... Well... You would say if you had an issue wouldn't you? I mean, you don't think I am a bit of an arse, do you?
I looked him straight in the eye.
No, Boss. I don't.
I said lyingly.
And them, out there?
He motioned his head out to the ravening zombie hordes that were our co-workers.
I stood up and patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.
No mate. We all think you are amazing.
I grinned.
Ok, thanks for that BoomDawg.
El Jefe smiled unconvincingly back.
I headed out to my desk and hoped that work lies didn't count in the afterlife when they were choosing people to burn in the bad fire.
