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Home Angry Time Stories Male Boss-isms 3
Male Boss-isms 3 PDF Print E-mail
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Written by Northe   
Tuesday, 09 March 2010 21:48

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories. While you're at it, go ahead and Register, approval grants access to exclusive content.

Sidebar:  Not like any of you unconcerned bastards asked, but I have been busy with other writing projects lately.  The good news is I am going to put forth an honest effort to keep up with Angry Time.  So sharpen your swords and let's go.

Staying true to what Male Boss-isms has been, this story will focus a bit more on the behavioral tendencies of our simian, clad in sweat pants and finger smudges wrought from potato chip grease s-medium t-shirts.  To be sure, trying to understand exactly what this man's function and purpose is will, and is, taking the lion's share of my analytical adult lifetime.  The question is, even with such time and dedication given to this often times insipid yet noble endeavor, is the project ever finished or the illustration ever satisfactory let alone complete?  I draw parallels to the brave, yet crazy fucks, ie "The Grizzly Man" who literally sacrifice their lives in pursuit of knowledge.  Indeed, the same knowledge that any critically thinking person can deduce without getting their arm ripped off and thrown into a stream fit for fly fishing. That is: bears eat, defecate and sleep.  Furthermore, said bear, at any given time it fuckin feels like it will maim you horribly and leave you bleeding until it fancies you suitable for consumption.  Thing is, you're the smart ones cuz you get to read while I fend off bayonets in my own personal version of trench warfare.

Just like our dead friend The Grizzly Man, I too, may some day fall on my sword once this whole jig is up but it will be by choice rather than leaving my life in the calloused paws and mercy of my subject.  Without further ado, some of the following analyses may require explanation.  Said input may not always be provided due to me not knowing what the fuck Male Boss is thinking most of the time to begin with, especially in these scenarios.  I may work with the guy, but as sure as hell's flames could sear the the finest rib-eye roast in mere seconds, I don't get this clown so your own input and perspective is appreciated.

First -ism: A great example of not understanding a damn thing about Male Boss concerns what Mama Boucher would have called, "da social skills" - more specifically, responding to questions.  As a loyal Angry Timer, you already know that you can throw out all the cards once he and Female Boss get to talking but this is not so much a reaction to his lifelong nemesis but more a.. well, basically, a reaction.

Female Boss asks, "Where is The One?"

Sidebar: As much as I'd like to go ape tits on how infuriating this bi-hourly ritual is due to the simple fact that the fucking dog is literally 4 feet from her 98.3% of the time, I'll leave that rant for another day.

Instead we look to Male Boss for resolution and he responds as cryptic as one can possibly fathom, "Last time I saw the Honkey Tonk Man outside but could may be now."

Your guess is as good as mine, all I know is it sucks not only the air out of the room when he says inane shit like that but I can actually feel my brain being starved of that precious oxygen.

Second -ism: Being a slightly less evolved species of some sort of belly button picker, Male Boss often uses the phrase (hardly a question), "What is in it for me?" Now why this?  Well, this is a purely instinctual attack blurted out whenever he is half a hand deep in his sweats, likely commando for the sake of convenience, and watching a Mexican television show.  Have I mentioned before that he doesn't know Spanish? Knowing Male Boss as well as I do, it is easy for me to see that it is his way to deflect or absolve himself from responsibility.  You see, when his inner sanctum is breached he must defend, tantrums are his first line of defense. The territorial escalation is used simply because it works. Like a warthog stamping and kicking up dust, Male Boss is ultimately communicating with Female Boss in his own primitive fashion. Female Boss representing the middle to lower rungs of the Society's Finest totem pole, understands this.

Female Boss not only reads the warning signs but is given the choice to back the fuck off or proceed with limbs flailing and saliva spewing.  Now, Female Boss is presented with a tough decision; if she does not quit, Male Boss will continue to ascend towards verbal attacks the likes of which will reduce her to a quivering fetus. On the other hand, Female Boss knows how to set up a barrage of whiny requests that can only reduce Male Boss into bitching compliance.  Here's the latest exchange, Female Boss has already asked Male Boss for a favor multiple times, his standard deflection defense has already failed him:

Male Boss starts, "No, no, no!  Not fair!  I go to decide to stay here and if I do you rub it in the face! To the face until I go! Then, if decides to go you rub it to the face so I have to always go every time you ask me from here out.  Zis is bullshit! Makes me want to move to the gutter."

This is a classic example of bitching compliance.  Male Boss reverts to sadness and is bested by Female Boss this time.  Unfortunately, he cannae win them all.

Third -ism:  The last take is a pretty normal happening here for Male Boss. A quick background, he is a big fan of clicking pens.  Call it nervous habit or the song in his brain reaching a glorious crescendo, but this asshole can sit there for hours pumping his thumb just to hear that curious sound from the ol' ink tube. It is almost as if the pen becomes an extension of his hand. He will grab things to take notes or mark them up to give instructions and won't have to reach for a writing utensil because there is one already there.

This one time, Male Boss had a pen in his hand for so long that he had flipped it upside down and was using his pinky to click it. I remember this because he was sitting fairly close by, were I blindfolded I would have known this due to the heavy mouth breathing and that familiar smell of nicotine exhaust billowing up from his pores.  With Male Boss in such close proximity I found myself having to restrain the urges to turn his lower jaw into a hood ornament.. so instead, I just I printed up some crap for him to take a gander at which he snatched from me like a spider monkey looking for a heroin fix.  Male Boss starts going to work, his naturally vibrating hands that we sophisticates refer to as "the shakes", rustles the paper loudly yet, oddly enough, drowning out those murderous voices in my head.  Now, I do not exaggerate when I say he was marking up this list for a good minute before realizing something.  This distracted imbecile had been using the butt-end of the pen the entire time.  Upon discovering that, unlike when his fingers are covered in his own feces, the pen was leaving no marks.  Male Boss soars into a tirade that would make Andrew Dice Clay blush.  Sorry chief, you're gonna have to start from the top.. next time just use those stained fingers of yours instead.