Guest Blogger: ClinkPosted: October 11, 2007
By all accounts, Mike is a pretty good boss.
Scratch that – the man is an awesome boss. And an awesome person. For example:
-He supports Molly’s blogging and has no problem with her writing posts at work; his philosophy is “as long as she gets her work done, I don’t care what she does.”
-He has his own blog (um, duh, this is it), where he writes about everything from the cute things his kids say and do to how his life has been affected by tragic deaths, and everything in between.
-He has a mancrush on Bon Jovi (sorry Mike! I had to slip that in.)
-He has become a bonafide force in our little blogging community – I like to think of him as a 25 year old female trapped in the body of an adult male.
-He (and Anna!) decorated Molly’s desk and bought her wedding magazines and, most importantly, chocolate shortly after she got engaged, to celebrate.
-He makes me laugh, even if he DID defend M’s right to keep the damn Patriots garbage can.
I have asked Mike many times to please please please come to New York and be my boss but for some reason he just laughs off my request. I don’t think he realizes that hi, I’m not kidding, get your ass down to Manhattan.
You see, I’ve had some bad bosses in my time.
Scratch that – I’ve had some shitty bosses in my time.
There was that boss at the snack bar where I worked one summer who used to slip all the girls cups of iced – ICED – Heineken in soda cups with hopes that we would get drunk enough to sleep with him. He was married.
There was also that boss, at my second job after college, who used to cheat on his wife and have me cover for him. In fact, he was in the midst of a year-long affair with his best friend’s girlfriend. The amount of cocaine he did would make even Lindsay Lohan step back and say “dude, you might want to take it easy.” Cocaine = mood swings = you never knew what you were going to get when he walked into the office.
My female bosses weren’t much better: one of them made us work 12 hour days, three to five days a week for NO REASON. Seriously, it wasn’t as if we were especially busy or overloaded. If anything, it was the opposite – we were a bit overstaffed. When we voiced our concerns because, you know, when the hell are we supposed to do laundry or, you know, have lives, she said “well, you decided to work in TV. Go get a job in HR if getting out at 5pm is so important to you.” She also didn’t speak proper English (despite it being her first language) and blatantly cheated on her fiance (hmm, are we noticing a pattern here?)Actually I can pretty much sum her up with this anecdote: During a huge meeting with executives from a major network, she said that certain talent we were considering didn’t want to be pigeon-holed. “You know,” she continued, “they feel like we’re holding them by the neck and not letting them free. Like you would hold a pigeon.” Which, as we all know, is NOT THE CORRECT DEFINITION OF PIGEON-HOLED.
Still, she doesn’t hold a candle to the mess of a woman I babysat for during college who would ask me to watch her children in their suburban mansion Friday night and then wouldn’t show up again until Saturday or Sunday. “You didn’t have plans, did you Clink?” Sometimes she’d show up when she said she would (score!) with a man she had picked up in a bar (d’oh!). Those poor kids of hers were always waking up to someone new at breakfast. Speaking of breakfast, she never ate, to the point that she and her ten year old daughter shared clothing. Her eating disorder was a result of her divorce: her ex-husband ran away with their former housekeeper to Puerto Rico. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up. I only hope that she’s getting those kids stellar therapy.
So, yes, while my current boss is nothing short of wonderful, I have been through the gamut of crap bosses, which makes me appreciate Mike, on behalf of both Molly and employees everywhere.
He’s become so much more than my Imaginary Internet Bestest’s boss. He’s become a friend. A friend who loves my baked goods and gives me hope that not all bosses/men in general are cheating douchebags.
I heart you Mike. Maybe even enough to send you some more homemade Oreos.