You're Not The Boss Of Me!

Well, today is my last day. My last day running amok at work; answering to no one, heeding no directives, hearing no admonishments. Showing up late, drunk, and wearing footie kangaroo jammies … cranking Pantera and doing breakfast shots in the office while the still-nameless girls from the previous night's party do lines on my desk … making book and running odds for the local lowlifes and doing the occasional “trash disposal” contract job, all on the taxpayer dime … it all comes to an abrupt end as of 4:00 pm this afternoon.

I’ve been sans supervisor at my place of employment since last April, when my (then) boss retired. Oh, sure, his boss was still there, but she didn’t wander over my way very often, and I was mostly left to my own devices. In fact, she left the organization about a month ago, so I’ve had a brief window where I’ve been completely off the grid (to be honest, it was only during this time that I did the aforementioned “contract work,” but hey, 200 large in four weeks ain’t chump change, and I’m not the greedy sort anyway).

Actually, I did have one encounter with the person who the Powers That Be temporarily put in her position (I’ll call him Pat because that’s his name):

Pat: Hey, Dead Acorn, you got a minute?

Dead Acorn: (pushes midget little person clowns down behind desk, prays they don’t start giggling again) umm … yeah, Pat, sure. 'Sup?

Pat: This is a little awkward, but the Department is updating background checks on everyone, and something came up in yours from about a year and a half ago. An incident with local Law Enforcement of some sort.

Dead Acorn: Yeah, that’s kind of a funny story. What about it? I’m kind of busy here …

Pat: ummm … okay, nevermind (sheepishly shuffles out).

But as I said, the show is over. As of Monday morning, I’ll have a new boss. I’ve met her a few times, and I’m sure she’ll be great, in that establishmentarian kind of way, you know, that traditional “explicit goals and expectations” way of thinking, where employees are judged on their “output and performance” and their “objectively measured competence” and all the rest of the crapola that goes along with Everyday Life In Normaltown, USA.

Well, I’ll do it, Little Missy New-Boss … I’ll put on the suit and tie, and I’ll show up and shuffle my papers around, and act like a good little puppet, my arms and legs flailing about in grotesque disjunction as you tug the strings afforded you by your State Given Superiority, yes, yes, I’ll dance whatever steps you call, and appear the proper and subservient lackey, and grant you the illusory position of power for which you so yearn.

After work, though, I’m going bowling, and then to nekkid karaoke, and you know what? Huh? You know what?

There’s not a damn thing in the world you can do about it.

Note: The part about Pat having to ask me about an incident that came up in a background check, and the fact that it was his only work-related encounter with me in his short-lived position as my nominal supervisor, is absolutely true.