I was sent down to the other main corporate office about 15 miles further south for three weeks to be the back-up for a manager who went to London and Italy for vacation. The hellish commute of an extra 30 miles round-trip goes unthanked by the Raptor upon my return. That is all right. Par for the course really, but I will be sure to expense that cost and get reimbursed $0.55 for each mile.
Later that morning, I send an email response out to Hong Kong with many recipients on the email thread. The Raptor emails me on the side with the following: “Hope you sent her a separate email thanking for prompt reply.” Well, no, as a matter of fact I did not, but thanks for reading every line of every one of my emails, chief. This control freak takes micro-managing to a whole new level.
I learn of yet another analyst leaving another department. Good for him. This same department has lost four people the past six weeks and I am more motivated now than ever to turn this year around and do something else with my life.
I’m walking back to my cube in the afternoon and I spot the Raptor flossing in his office while standing up. He then proceeds to walk out of his office and down the hall while continuing his flossing as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
Good oral hygiene is to be commended, sir. However, this is best done in the privacy of the office restroom and not in full public view. I make a mental note to include this on my laundry list of outrageous behavior at this company that will be presented to HR at an opportune time.
We have a staff meeting at the end of the day before the Raptor takes off on his two-week long vacation. He begins the meeting by mentioning that the new female hire is starting next week. Then, Raptor looks over in the direction of my one male coworker and me and says, “No sexual harassment.”
This is unreal. So now it is funny to suggest that his subordinates are potential sexual predators in front of the department? I stare at him without changing the look of disgust on my face. This obnoxious clown needs to be stopped. And I know just the man to do it.
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.