Raptor comes by at least twice―if not three times―in the morning and greets the other three members of the team while ignoring me. The petty slighting feels like a relief more than an insult. Interacting with him has become worse than the annual visit to the dentist. At least with the trip to the dentist you get to leave work three hours early.
Later in the day, I approach Raptor’s office and, as he registers my presence, he belts out, “nah, nah, nah, nah, nah” while reviewing my apparently unsatisfactory spreadsheet. He then proceeds to kick off our post-lunch meeting by lecturing me for five minutes about his preferred file naming convention concerning how spaces must be avoided.
I stare blankly at him and then pretend to think about his new requirement while writing it down in my notebook. In month number nine I learn about this fresh pet-peeve of his. The learning never stops in this place.
This is a post in a series based on my time working at a Fortune 500 company. These posts are taken directly from a journal I decided to keep after witnessing numerous unbelievable and ridiculous incidents. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of the innocent―as well as the guilty. The head of my department is referred to as ‘Raptor,’ which was the nickname given to him by one of my coworkers. Last I checked, Raptor was still employed in the same role at this company.