My new boss is quite a character. For most people, that means he is a twat. For people like me, that means he is a twat.
This thrilling young renegade has breezed into a beleaguered office, full of pizazz and innovation that was so sorely lacking. Or at least that’s the case in his own head. He is actually a frightening hybrid of David Brent, Colin Hunt and a hypnotist – for he is actually a hypnotism hobbyist.
For his many, obvious flaws, I find it hard to hate the man, since he will surely continue to dazzle with his ham-fisted attempts at raising office morale. Take this incident, which actually happened, in a meeting chaired by said boss, and five others, including me. The beauty of it is in the futility of this grandiose gesture of managerial inspiration, a man so desperate to appear a genius getting it so very wrong.
Names have been preserved lest I become the latest hapless example of how people get fired after cracking wise about their companies on a shit blog that no-one reads anyway.
Boss (to D) : Name a vegetable.
Boss: Name a vegetable. Any vegetable. Potato..cabbage…
Boss: Any vegetable. Onion…potato…wait? Did you say parsnip?
Boss: No! Not parsnip!
Boss (to me): What do you think? Were you thinking of carrot?
Me: Yes? Yes.
* Boss stands up and pulls from his trouser pocket a flaccid, mouldy carrot, before slapping it on the table with a flourish*
Boss: There’s your carrot!