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Better the devil boss you know?

by: The Insider
  • 08/11/2011
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Better the devil boss you know?
Mortgage Solutions' exclusive columnist, The Insider, is relieved to find his boss is back from secondment, with just a few requests....

The boss has been on a secondment for several months. Only now he is back.

The sweet lady who had swapped jobs with him is no more and I, for one, am ecstatic.

Screw approachability – I demand a lack of respect. You needn’t think you are going to motivate me by treating me like a valued employee.

Like Morgan Freeman’s Red in The Shawshank Redemption, I have been institutionalised.

I and the other Pavlovian dogs who work here were almost frenetic in our anticipation of being on the receiving end once again of Big Boss Tanaka’s unique management “style”.

He didn’t disappoint:

  • Upon being told that a lady was off ill today and that she had looked rough the day before, he responded “How can you tell the difference?”
  • The number of inappropriate emails sent to the Bulgarian blonde on his first day back – 10
  • Number of minutes in an important meeting with the overall director – 90 (Well that’s actually 90 minutes outside smoking fags and chatting to his mates about golf, not realising that we can see him from the back window of our office)

After he had finished his taxing first day back, he beckoned me over with his nicotine stained fingers.

Whenever I walk over to his desk in our open plan office, I always make sure that I arrive at the side of it. Otherwise, if I face him front on, I get a full blast of his pungent coffee breath and day three clothing smell.

He didn’t want much.

Just the data for the last few months that he hasn’t been there; the individual performance of each agent; the results from each English court where we have lodged possession claims; the court results according to our solicitors; the cash inflows; the write offs; the repossessed properties volume; the height that one has to jump to entertain Big Boss Tanaka.

I walked away with a warm, three hours’ unpaid overtime nestling in my pocket. I murmured gently to myself: “He’s back.”

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