It’s 8:03am.
Shit, you’re late for the weekly “Do as we say, not as we do” meeting, where people who haven’t been out from behind a desk in 22 years tell you how easy selling something is and… ffffffuck, you’re the last one here.
“Glad you could join us,”shouts your boss.
Hilarious.
A few of the ass kissers laugh. Karen nearly laughs her ass off. She’s such a brown nosing piece of shit. You wish you could smack that Venti Caramel Frappuccino right out of her hands, but instead you nod sheepishly and pick the only remaining spot left next to the summer intern who is too afraid to make eye contact with anyone and always reeks of body odor.
Does this mother fucker not bathe? Are you so afraid of life you’ve given up soap? What the actual fuck. He smells like a five day old bag of spoiled ostrich ass.
Stop it. Pay attention.
“This week I want us all to work on our synergy,”your boss touts.
The sheep nod in approval.
What the ever living fuck does THATmean?
Does that mean we should be happier or something? In context it probably means we should work better together. Easy to do when your only responsibility is making sure the hooker doesn’t swipe your credit card at your “client dinners” you fat drop of monkey piss.
You’re so funny. One point for you.
Why does creative even have to attend the sales meetings? It’s not like its the design teams job to close the deal. They just put up with the insane hours and demands and get paid half the fucking salary. They shouldn’t have to attend these meetings as well.
“Today’s meeting isn’t all sunshines and rainbows, guys and gals. We’ve got some areas we need to pick up in. Mainly… creative seems to be dropping the ball a TON lately…”
Oh my fucking god. Is this guy serious?
Are you serious, pal?
You’re looking around the room in disbelief, trying to make eye contact with anyone on your team… JASON! HA! He’s staring back at you like “Can you believe this shit?”
You know, right??
Creative dropped the ball? Mother fucker, you couldn’t even SEE the ball.
You’re hilarious this morning! Two points to youand now you’re definitely having a drink at lunch—JEEEEEEZUS H-CHRIST, THIS INTERN STINKS. MY GAWD.
HE SMELLS LIKE A CROSS BETWEEN A WILDEBEEST’S NUT SACK AND A HOT YOGA CLASS.
YOU INHALED WITH YOUR MOUTH OPEN. FUCKING-A. YOU MAY PASS OUT.
Get it together!!! The blame is being dropped on your department and you’ve got to pay attention.
You can feel rage building up inside of you. You’re biting your tongue so hard you think you may be bleeding.
This is it.
This is the moment you’ve been preparing for ever since you first signed your new employee papers… you’re going to tell this fucker to stick it where the sun don’t shine and peace out this whore.
Fuck this place.
Fuck these people.
You don’t need this job. You can totally survive on your instincts and savvy. You’re a smart, brave, independent–oh shit. You just remembered you’re $32 overdrawn in your checking account.
Netflix hit a day early and that $10 just cost you twenty fucking dollars in overage charges.
Goddammit Netflix. You assholes.
I mean, Netflix isn’t even that good. More like “No Flix.”
Three points for you. That’ll be two drinks at lunch time.
Like you love paying your hard earned money to watch MacGyver and whatever the fuck Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen are putting out these days.
Well… you do love The Office, though. Steve Carrell is so damn funny.
You’ll watching anything he’s in… except for Dan in Real Life. That shit was garbage.
Ok, quick… 3 things that you can do that will keep you from telling your boss to “Fuck off!”
What the hell is this? Some kind of reverse psychology shit?
Who’s side are you on here? I don’t want to see it from his perspective. He makes three-times what I make for putting in 25 hours less work. He should take the time to see it from my perspective but it would require him removing his head from his own ass.
Four points. Three drinks.
But I guess, if we’re being fair, his job is one of value. It’s such a thankless and difficult job to try to rally the troops each and every week. Plus, right out fo the gate, everyone is against you. No matter how hard you try, you will never be truly liked or trusted because you’re “one of them,” a group of people designated to making incredibly difficult decisions that impact people’s lives.
He knows that you don’t want to be here. Hell, he doesn’t want to be here either. Do you think when he wakes up in the morning and sits up in bed he’s thrilled about seeing your blank expression and dead eyes in his meeting each week?
He isn’t always as dumb as he seems. He knows you hate him.
All because of the audacity of expecting work after he’s handed you money.
Yes, no one likes meetings. Well… some people love meetings. There are always those folks who have meetings, just to set other meetings.
It’s infuriating.
But why all the hate? If you were out of the office and saw him, would you really despise him just because of a meeting? Or is it something else you haven’t been truthful about with yourself?
Maybe you want to strike out on your own but you don’t know how, or you’re not financially stable enough, or you’re just plain scared. All of those are valid reasons, but does he deserve to have the shit smacked out of him because you want to do something else with your life?
Instead, why not approach the subject as a professional and try your best to find happiness in the fact that you have a job, and you’re not filling out papers in an unemployment line.
We love to believe that we’ll be 10 times better than our worst bosses because we’ve learned all the lessons and we’re so smart look at us.
It’s not always the case.
Some day soon, you’ll be standing in front of a room full of people who don’t want to be there, just as much as you today, wishing you would shut the fuck up. That’s the goal after all isn’t it?
Whether you’re working for yourself, or you climb the ladder, you want to be the one at the top pulling all the strings. And no matter how hard you try, there will be that one angry eyed, foul-mouthed meeting hater that wants to yell “Fuck Off” to you too.
So for now, just relax. Try your best to listen.
Take some notes and you may learn something.
And above all just breathe—HOLY CHRIST ON A MOUNTAIN BIKE THIS KID SMELLS LIKE SOMEONE PISSED IN A SHOE, RAN THE SHOE THROUGH THE STREETS OF CALCUTTA, PULLED IT THROUGH A VULTURE’S ASS AND PLANTED IT IN A VEAL PROCESSING FACTORY.
Next time be first for the goddamn meeting and you won’t have to sit next to this kid.
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This article originally appeared on our sister site, Full Metal Traveler.