I know what it sounds like, but I’m incredibly lucky to have this job. The hours are decent, the pay is good, and the work itself is interesting. So what if my boss, Kevin, is a hammerhead shark who makes me fear for my life?
Kevin demands only the best from his employees. He constantly circles my desk to “check in,” especially when I’m on my period. But he’s only making sure I stay productive, and it works! Sure, I’m paranoid that my boss could rip a chunk from my leg if I make a typo in a PowerPoint deck, but the fear of disappointing him has motivated me to do the best work of my career. I’ve even won awards, which are on my desk behind the twelve rolls of gauze, a Costco-size tube of Neosporin, and extra artificial limbs in case Kevin is having a case of the Mondays.
Kevin also insists on an open office plan, which I admit makes it hard to concentrate, especially when he’s eating yet another one of his assistants for getting his coffee order wrong (one shot of squid ink, not two). But since my coworkers and I are packed like sardines, we feel incredibly connected through sharing our countless flashbacks to the time Kevin went berserk on last year’s Take Your Child to Work Day. This mutual trauma has led me to make my closest friends since college! I even met my spouse at work, when we were both sobbing by the chum bucket/water cooler! (May he rest in peace.)
I know it sounds bad, but it’s truly a privilege to work under Kevin. He’s one of the most brilliant minds in the industry and always has unique solutions for my difficult work problems. For example, last month I was having trouble with a difficult client, so Kevin ate his arm. Another time, I couldn’t get a contract signed by a key stakeholder, so Kevin ate his leg.
That’s what I call thinking outside the box!
Technically, I should thank Kevin for my recent salary bump—after the incident with my toy poodle, the CEO begged me to stay with a 200% pay raise (though unfortunately, we are no longer a dog-friendly office). Now, I’ve been able to buy a house, save for retirement, and pay for top-notch trauma therapy! Thanks to Kevin’s actions over the years, the company now offers amazing health insurance. Last week, when Kevin repeatedly rammed me into a wall with his giant cephalofoil head for being late to a meeting, I didn’t have to pay a dime!
I know it seems like I’m making excuses, but no one understands. Case in point: last month our team was at a conference, where I met several top industry executives. For some reason, they seemed concerned when I said I worked for Kevin and gave me job offers on the spot “for my own safety,” but I think they were just jealous. How could they not be after Kevin absolutely crushed his presentation, ripping his competitors to pieces (and chucking their disembodied limbs into the audience)?
Finally, it may sound cheesy, but it’s also the little things that keep me here: like the free fish heads in the break room. And how we sometimes take meetings on the beach. And how I’m always home for my kids in the evenings because I sprint from the office at five sharp, when Kevin’s got his back turned. So what if Kevin is a hammerhead shark, and every day in the office could be my last day on Earth? That makes me more grateful to be at my dream job!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to run. Kevin’s hired a new assistant, and I need to warn them about the coffee thing. Admin roles have such high turnover these days!