The Great Turd Explosion of 2008

[Editor’s note: I wrote this a few weeks ago and have hesitated publishing it for reasons that will be obvious. Yesterday the person you will come to know as The Turd screamed at me again. So here it is.]
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“So has he yelled at you again?” says Mom.

“No, but I’m waiting,” says me.

“You’re waiting?”

“Yes. Waiting. There’s no rational explanation for why he yells, so it’s not as if I can do anything to prevent it.”
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How’s work going, Hedy?

To use my friend Molly’s phrase: “It sucks balls.”

I work for an irrational tyrant with the personality and visage of an angry turd. With a Napoleon complex.

Three weeks ago he screamed at me. For something a co-worker did.

He didn’t know this, of course, because he’s one of these brilliant Yell First, Ask Questions Later types.
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Screamed?

Yes. Screamed.

Everyone in the office heard it. More on that later.
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Last month I convinced them we needed a receptionist/office admin person to answer the phones and to provide back up to the software support team. This person also would do some minor accounting projects (one person on our support team helps out with accounting on occasion.) We’re talking about a highly motivated general office assistant with three to five years’ experience.

I write up a job description. There’s already one referral ready to interview.

Then, somehow, the accounting dude gets involved through his boss, who is co-partner at the firm with the Napoleonic Turd.

“Hire someone. You two agree on a job description and send it to me. Figure out who the new hire will report to, I don’t care.”

That was a missive to me and the accounting dude from the Napoleonic Turd.

Before you can say “I’m not trying to be power hungry or anything”, the accounting dude is in my office saying “I’m not trying to be power hungry or anything, but I think this person should report to me.”

Red flag #1. I ignore it.

“That’s fine,” I say. “It doesn’t matter who they report to so long as this person is answering phones and helping out support.”

We agree that we’ll work together to combine my job description with his and then send it over as demanded.

I’ll say it again because it’s important: We agree. That we’ll work together. To combine job descriptions. Then send it over. As demanded.

I send the accounting dude my version of the job description (“Administrative Support Assistant”) because I know he hasn’t started his yet.

Red flag #2: The next morning, I am copied on an e-mail to the Napoleonic Turd from the now blatantly power hungry accounting dude:

“Here is the job description. The new person will report to me.”

You know what’s coming next, don’t you?

I open the attached ACCOUNTING ASSISTANT job description and it is, as you might expect ALL ACCOUNTING. There’s nothing from my original job description save one sentence at the very bottom: “And will assist with answering phones as needed.”

FUCKER. FUCKING FUCKER.

“I thought we were going to agree on a job description before sending it to D___?”

That was me, after my forehead exploded all over the desk, in an e-mail to the accounting fucker.

“I did. Your stuff is in there.”

Right. Fucker.
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I sit at my desk for a good 10 minutes trying to figure out how to handle this.

Remember the missive?

We were supposed to iron out all the details before floating it up to the Napoleonic Turd. But the accounting fucker circumvented that. So now what?

I need help for my support people or they will leave.

So I hit Reply All with some trepidation and write:

“One suggestion: Change the job title from accounting assistant to office assistant. It needs to be made very clear to candidates that answering the phones and helping out with basic support questions is a primary function of the role and equally important as the accounting tasks assigned.”

I wanted to say that it will be much easier finding a general office assistant willing to answer the phones than an accounting person willing to serve as a receptionist. But I didn’t.

I hit send. I cringe.

Less than a minute later, me and the accounting fucker get this from the Napoleonic Turd:

“I changed my mind. This person will report to Heather.”
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In the mean time, the Turd and I are copied on an e-mail thread started between the accounting fucker and his boss regarding a candidate they want to interview later that day. The candidate has a finance degree and has been working in accounting roles since 1995.


This was probably a mistake, but I hit Reply All (again) and said:

“Perhaps we should all get on the same page prior to bringing anyone in.”
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Next, a lot of stuff happened between the Turd and his partner, and his partner and the accounting fucker that I wasn’t part of.

Then the Turd is in my office screaming at me.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO HANDLE THIS. I GAVE THIS TO YOU TO TAKE CARE OF. WHY ARE YOU COPYING EVERYONE ON THESE E-MAILS? I DON’T GIVE A FUCK WHAT ACCOUNTING WANTS, JUST HIRE SOMEONE!”

I didn’t get to say much except that I was very angry at how things had turned out, too. Then he left.

He came back a half hour later to yell some more but I stood up and cut him off.

“Before you start screaming at me again, you should hear what happened.”

And then I threw the accounting fucker under the bus. Right where he belongs.
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Accounting fucker stops by my office later, completely oblivious to the carnage he’s created in his Power Hungry Struggle to Rule the Office, One Admin at a Time (Suggestion: say that last part in a movie trailer voice. Seriously, try it. It sounds better.)

It would’ve been too easy for me to unload on him. But I don’t.

“I actually interviewed someone last night who could be good,” he says.

Red Flag #3: That’s right. He interviewed someone before we even agreed on the job description.

Did I mention this guy’s a fucker? I did, didn’t I?
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“Now you know what we have to deal with,” that was the office manager.

And the two people in support. And the risk manager. And the operations manager. And the IT manager.

In fact, I received a steady stream of sympathetic visitors all afternoon, after The Great Turd Explosion of 2008.

Apparently getting yelled at by the Turd is some sort of twisted badge of honor within the office and I am now officially part of The Club.

Yay, me.
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Lesson #1: Don’t assume that your co-workers are doing what’s best for the company because quite often they’re only doing what’s best for them.

Lesson #2: If someone is power hungry, steps on you, and doesn’t follow the rules, throw them under the bus.

Lesson #3: If possible, try not to work for a tiny ignorant screaming turd.
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Two weeks ago we hired someone. The admin person we so desperately need.

Is it immature to say that I took Great Pleasure in introducing him to the accounting fucker?

It is. And I did. Fucker.
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I am listening to: Shitlist - L7
I am reading: Neither Wolf Nor Dog
And I am: Looking for a job again