Today was a red-letter day. I put a crack in Stoneface's facade. If I haven't mentioned him before, Stoneface is my boss. Not the go-to-if-I-need-a-day-off boss, but the Director of the non-medical call floor.
When Stoneface first started at my place of employment, many of us were convinced that there was going to be a Falling Down re-enactment. Yup, Stoneface is a dead ringer for Michael Douglas's character: black tie, glasses, red face and all. He didn't interact much with us much. I don't think he even knew my name for the first six months he was there. This was confirmed when I discovered he referred to me as "tribal girl". For fuck's sake, the tattoo isn't even tribal, you tool.
It turns out that Stoneface does have a few topics that open him right up: sandwiches and fishing. Now, I'm all about sandwiches, but I have approximately no interest in fishing. Not that it matters, Stoneface doesn't deal well with women. He's all sorts of chummy with the male supervisors but does not get on with the 2 female ones. Well, the one crawls so far up his as that his doctor asks her what the state of his colon is; the other mostly only deals with him on an as-needed basis.
Anyway, the months pass and Stoneface loosened up a little. If by loosen up you mean cracking mean-spirited jokes and spending half the morning talking about mustard and hot sauce. There would be hour-long debates on where to order lunch and which fucking sandwich to order. As I said, I'm a sandwich fan, but come on - that's not being a foodie, that's mania.
I had decided early on not to bother cultivating anything more than a civil working relationship with this man. I don't like him and I don't like his management style. I tried the odd sally here and there; I got nada so I stopped trying. Today though, today was different.
It has been a fairly weird and shitty week. Not just for me, for everyone. The Princess was all in a tizzy and the call floor was paying the price. I had a seriously busy afternoon happening (really!) and was feeling a bit frazzled. I made a comment to one of my supervisors about how, in all actuality, anyone can do the particular job that the Princess needed done, but only people with a client specific training could do the training. I know this is coming off vague, but I don't think it's a great idea to be too specific.
Anyway, a couple minutes later, I hear the above mentioned supervisor reiterating my comment to Stoneface. I felt that the supervisor wasn't properly conveying my point to Stoneface so I interjected. I explained myself again. Apparently, Stoneface would rather have heard that from my supervisor because as I turned back to my computer, he says, "Thanks so much for your help" in a moderately sarcastic tone. I, being the level-headed individual I am, reply, "That's what I do" in a horrifically chipper tone of voice. OK, there was an undertone of brat, but it was hardly noticeable. Stoneface mutters, "That's not what it seems like."
Awwww, did scary Carrie hurt big, bad Stoneface's feelings? I'll admit to a moment of light-headedness, but then I didn't care. OK, I care that Stoneface chewed out my supervisor for not calling me on my behavior. I understand how the chain of command works, but, well, wasn't this personal? Wasn't the issue my attitude and not my work? If I were slacking off, or chronically late, I could understand Stoneface telling one of my supervisors to talk to me, but he was twisted up by my intonation. If I were him, I'd be a little embarrassed at the way I handled it. But I'm me and I have no regrets. You know, other than my supervisor getting chewed out.
I had the brief hope that Stoneface would call me into his office and snottily fire me. Nope, didn't happen. Unless he's being particularly sneaky and plans on doing the deed tomorrow morning. I'd be a bit salty if I had to haul my bratty ass into work just to get fired.
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