POWERLESS in their real lives, these wankers find their satisfaction in running a workplace like a Panzer Division. Which ones have bollocked you?
The Technically Senior Colleague
The rest of the office gives little or no regard to job titles. This person reminds you of his seniority at least three times a day. Opening an email with ‘Hi’ instead of ‘Dear’ will get you written up for disrespect. Any personal questions will be met with stony, suspicious silence. There is a groupchat dedicated to ripping the shit out of him, moderated by his boss.
The Bar Manager For Whom It Is Her Life
As desperately sad as it is that she clearly has no life whatsoever outside of her job and has shift rotas on the ceiling above her cold, empty bed, you still hate her and dream of unleashing a tirade of choice abuse. But she controls whether you get paid, so you never, ever will which she knows full well. It’s what keeps her warm at night.
The Waiter Who’s Worked There for 30 Years
Still operating on food hygiene practices outlawed in 1989, this man will insist that you are and have been doing everything wrong since the day you started. Attempts to rectify this will be countered by a long-suffering sigh. Treats a failure to present a diner with the correct cutlery as everything wrong with society today.
The Boss’s Daughter
Everyone knows why she’s in the job. She’s not senior. But nonetheless, when your boss is away, the mantle of hereditary authority falls on her shoulders and despite being younger than you and texting, vaping and drinking on the job, she must be treated with the utmost respect or she’ll tell her dad.
The Head Chef
Not named after his rank but the size of his f**king ego. That stupid, f**k-off massive hat? All head underneath, and the only hat he can get to fit. All those lovely celebrity chefs on TV belie the dark underbelly of spud peeling. Nigella would never give you a six-minute bollocking for allowing a sticky toffee pudding to cool for an unacceptable 38 seconds.
The School’s Senior Leadership Team
Not technically bosses, but a pack of bastards who get an honorary mention for beginning the toxic relationship between you and authority. Presumably hired after being laid off as prison warders, their obsession with alphabetical order, trouser length and walkie talkies would have been more suited to a WWII field marshal than a jumped-up lunch monitor.
