Harvey was hardly ever at his desk—he was fond of taking the two-martini lunch. When he was in the office, he made crass comments and jokes with sexual undertones.
Harvey got particularly annoyed about my transcriptions of his dictated letters. After he edited one, my practice was to print out a second draft on plain paper for his approval or additional edits. He preferred and demanded that I print directly onto letterhead. But, letterhead was expensive and he invariably had more corrections. If I followed his directive, the office manager complained about our usage. He, in turn, accused me of waste.
Harvey was to host the annual office party and before leaving on a business trip, he instructed me to type up the assignments, make 30 copies, and distribute them to the department. His handwritten sheet indicated that the men in the department would contribute “a bottle of wine” or “loaf of bread.” The women were assigned items requiring actual preparation.
One department assistant, Mary, was a young unmarried mother-to-be whose due date coincided with the party. When I came to her assignment, Two Bottles or Two Breasts, I did a double take. Surely I was misinterpreting Harvey’s handwriting. But, no. It was perfectly clear. I was appalled and completely confused about what to do. I finished typing the assignments and printed a copy to proof. Again, when I got to Mary’s assignment, my stomach turned. I called Harvey on the road and begged him to let me omit this particular assignment saying, “I’m afraid it’s just too personal and verges on mocking her.” His voice took on a menacing edge, “It stays in. It’s funny.”
I didn’t sleep well that night. Should I let Mary be humiliated? Or should I risk losing my job? In the end I decided to expunge the offensive entry, make the copies, and put them in the interoffice mail, resolved to being fired.
For three days I actually believed Harvey wouldn’t notice. But, that was just wishful thinking. He called me up to his office and waved the paper in my face. Noticeably flushed with anger he accused, “You deliberately went against my wishes!”
With a slight shake in my voice, I said, “You ought to be thanking me. I saved your ass.” He looked at me, incredulous at my boldness. I had never stood up to a bully before. I felt empowered. I was exhilarated.
Harvey was stunned as I administered the coup de grace, “I’ll be downstairs at my desk when you’re ready to apologize.”
He never did.
Copyright DJ Anderson 2010
I've had my share of offenses. The most recent one was, "Why did you not include me in your decision to make a call." After apologizing I was rewarded with mockery and the forceful takeover of my authority. Now the check signer is making a mess of the annual party, replacing licensed caterers with family members, switching to an un-airconditioned venue,and adding a raunch band to replace the orchestra.
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