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This is a question Bad Management

Tb2571989 says Bad Management isn't just a great name for a heavy metal band - what kind of rubbish work practices have you had to put up with?

(, Thu 10 Jun 2010, 10:53)
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This question is now closed.

This one boss...
Back in my in between uni year summers I worked in a ceramic factory.

It was a local firm that made ceramic pieces that cleaned various metals after industrial production, and my boss was a cunt.

He wasn't one of those bosses that rode your back he was one of those bosses that tried to fit in with the lads and always failed miserably, there were many a tumble weed moment when he tried to crack a joke because it either referred back to bestiality and paedophilia, now there are times and places for jokes but when someone brings in pictures of their new born what you don't want to here is..

"I bet she would look good on my cock"

Basically a social misfit who had managed to get through life without ending up on G wing in Strangeways.

Down at the local pub he was always on the bandit whilst his fat ugly bird looking like a mong would sit watching the lights flash.

After a few weeks of bad jokes the twat said something about my brother his first mistake his next mistake he made some comments about my missus at the time and that made me flip.

I'm not one these people that strike out straight away, I plan and take their most precious thing and defile it some sought of way.

For example: At my sisters wedding, she had invited a guy who the previously week had try to hit my dad at a sportsmen dinner, an opportunity arose where I bagged his missus in the toilets and the satisfaction of knowing my child makers were dribbling down here thighs as she danced with her arsehole of husband made my year.

I digress, the wanker of a boss, his most precious thing his tool set, he would anally put all his tools back in his snap-on box every day, meticulously making sure that every piece was shiny and lived in its proper home, so I decided to snap-off one in his snap on box.

My final week came at the factory and to cap it all on my last day there the wanker was going away for two weeks thus giving me a full day to curl one off instead of quickly squatting and laying a cable in a minute.

On the Thursday night I went for a curry and downed a load of the Irish black stuff, to cap it off I had a greasy kebab before I went to bed.

On the Friday morning I had some senacot before going to work, I had to dodge a few turtle heads prior to getting to work and the pain in my bowels was excruciating (I'm a coffee and cig man for my shit trigger so always empty my bowels at 6:30 every morning).

I waddle into work like a knock kneed stripper holding ping pong balls up her chuff and managed to get round to the now empty bosses office where his tool box resided. The bastard had put the biggest padlock on it so I had to improvise QUICKLY as I was about to shit myself.

For those that have snap on boxes will realise that there are pins on hinges that can easily be knocked out if you have the right tools, I shouted to one of the lads and he quickly got the hammer and chisel from another part of the factory. I quickly knocked out the pins and stood on top of the bosses desk (it was a full length snap on box) I took the top tool tray which left me ample enough space and released my bowels. After wiping my arse on one his cleaning rags and I took a good look at my effort.

Perfect, not squit shit or hard shit but somewhere in between, two girls one cup shit would describe it perfectly but black with the odd speckle of green chilli, I was proud. I put the pins back in the hinges and left work that day knowing I had done my bit.

I got a call about 3 weeks later from my brother who told me story of what happened when he came back.

Remember this shit had two weeks of festering...

Basically boss came to work and when he opened his tool box quickly had the Managing director down to his office shouting "ONE OF THESE BASTARDS HAD SHAT IN MY TOOL BOX"
Apparently the MD didn't even say he word he went outside the office and started pissing himself laughing, laughing so much he had to prop himself up against a wall in a position that mimics the Hitler wank every bloke does in the shower.

To this day, the old boss still thinks someone else did it, so much so I got invited to his wedding, obviously I didn't go but I did buy him a wedding present, a miniature snap on tool box that contained chocolate....
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 9:41, 17 replies)
Do as I say, not as I do...
Captain Placid's post below reminded me of a paramedic colleague I was partnered with before he was promoted to manager. He would throw tantrums and go home sick if he was sent to cover a station outside his 'home' area. If a case came in close to the end of the shift he would make up some lie about a defect with the vehicle. If he didn't get a meal break on time (very common in this job) he would complain he was hypoglycaemic.
He was extremely rude to patients, particularly young drug/alcohol affected people who he would try to provoke until they did something he could get them arrested for.
And the list goes on...

Despite several Command Disciplines he got promoted to Officer in Charge. On reflection I think it was a way of removing him from patient contact.
His bullying as Officer in Charge was legendary and he delighted in berating staff for infractions far less serious than his own past murky deeds.
But not with me. I guess he realised I knew far too much having been the only poor soul that had been partnered with him long term.

One of his own managers got fed up with the complaints about him from staff and he eventually left his position. He got promoted to a cosy job many miles away.
I'm sure that being a troublesome employee was to some degree a tactic to achieve his goals.
We have a new Officer in Charge now, takes no shit from anyone and you wouldn't want to cross him - but a fairer minded manager you couldn't get.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 5:18, Reply)
I used to work for an awful manager,
Personally I guess he was an OK guy but managerially he didn't have the skills to find his own arse without a mirror, a torch and a 1:1 scale map.

Every few months when I'm bored I have a google around and find a training company who offer management courses and request a few catalogues are sent to the office in his name. Petty I know but I hear from some friends who still work there that he is getting more and more annoyed with the implicit suggestions about his abilities.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 1:25, 1 reply)
All in this together!
1. I work in a school.
2. (Although there are minor fluctuations) The organisation's income from government is constant, reliable, secure, unchanging.
3. This should make financial planning a piece of piss.

4.(3 years ago) Head & Governors create four positions at new senior management level.
5. (2 years and ten months ago) After years of being in the black the Head starts telling us all about how we are suddenly ~£200,000 over budget p.a. and can't afford to pay the people actually teaching children.
6. (2 years ago) Head brings in a "temporary restructuring consultant" on ~£500 per day to deal with this crisis.

7. (This Monday) The now rather permanent restructuring consultant still on ~£500 per day tells us that around half the staff are to have their posts downgraded and that around 20 of them are in positions that are unnecessary.
8. (This Tuesday) Lots of very upset, angry and frightened people at work facing pay cuts and an unlucky few the very real prospect of becoming unemployed.
8. (This Wednesday) The head then complains about "scaremongering" amongst staff.

I dread to think what they are going to do when the Dave and his boys actually start cutting education spending.
(, Thu 17 Jun 2010, 0:13, 5 replies)
This just in!
I came back to work today after a couple of days off, opened my emails and there was one from a colleague asking about the costs for the Belmers* to play at his daughter's birthday party. Fairenoughski you might think, but no!
Further down the queue there was one from our MD berating both of us for 'inappropriate use of the company email system' and hinting at disciplinary proceedings' after 'consultation with the group HR team'.

*Laziest, 2nd least-talented band in Christendom

It won't go any further as I've sent back to him all of the sexist, racist, disablist jokes he's sent round, coupled with the pictures of semi-naked women. topless waterskiers and beach babes etc etc that HE'S SENT ROUND THE COMPANY FFS!

Twunt.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 17:38, 12 replies)
Man management
Years ago, in Peru, I took a job as a lorry driver. What japes! before the inheritance and whatnot, and I was abroad, so it didn't matter.

Anyway, Jorge sent me up the mountains on a very bizarre pickup, didn't specify what, but said it was 'nearly ready' and that I might 'check it', before delivering it to some other point in the jungle.

So off I went, following the directions, and arriving at what very quickly turned out to be a coca plantation! The natives were quite bemused to see me, a godlike gringo drive into their little village in my fantastic truck, a sight they had never seen before.

(I mean me driving the truck they had never seen before. I expect they had seen trucks before, as they weren't scared by it. It was the sight of me that smacked them of their gobs, that's what I mean.)

Anyway, it took me a while to win them over - I had to give them coins and cigarettes (women and children respectively) before they accpeted that I was there to pick up a few bales of ganja or whatever the stuff is called.

While I was waiting, I watched the women pack up the stuff into neat bundles (very deft handiwork I must say but never really, eh, got to put it to the... ho-hum ...'test') when all of a sudden they all stopped and scarpered off, jibber-jabbering something at the honchos with the guns.

I was a bit shocked, not only at that, but also at the reaction of the guards, who simply shrugged. I asked one of them what was going on, as the truck was barely half-loaded. He said to me 'Senor Clarke, the women, they go watch the 'Bold and the Beautiful'. No shit!

So, while waiting, I chawed into one of the bales and ran around the place naked. As I said about the handiwork. And then there was a thunderstorm and everything got fucked up. Not my fault!


Chaps can talk about bad bosses all we want, but regardless of where the problem lies, look under it and 'cherchez la femme'.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 17:30, 6 replies)
I work for
a big IT Distributor, it's my 3rd time there. The HR lady is ace, friendly, funny, helpful and a joy. The senior management, MD, Company Chairman are all first name people and quite happy to listen to any suggestions you may have or spend time having a natter. My Head of Department and my Team Leader are both funny, lovely people who will go out of their way to help anyone who has a problem.
I was last there 4 years ago for 6 months helping to setup a facility to get rid of their aged stock, it was the best job I ever had and I only left cos me and MrsAitch were buying a business that ended up ruining our bloody lives. I'm back there now and I honestly couldn't be happier. It's like being among old, good friends and I ain't leaving again.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 17:05, 1 reply)
An antithesis to the usual shitheads that people have worked under.
When working on the 'all new singing and dancing portal' for the local ISP back in 2000, there was to be a shit load of information about clubs, organisations, theatres and other stuff. Basically, info on what to do in Hull.

I was asked to sort out some pictures for the site so I thought "I know, some pics of nightclubs will look funky and maybe some of the leisure facilities will be good". I drew up and printed out a list of the major clubs and sports centres, printed out a map and using the maths behind 'the travelling salesman problem', I even calculated the most efficient order in which to go take the pics. However, the boss passed on the list to a local photographers who usually take the pics that appear on the front of the directories.

About a week later, I was given a pack of photos and was asked if I could scan them in, and was told there was a scanner in that cupboard I could use. So, I plugged the scanner and began looking through the pics whilst waiting for the drivers to download.

They'd only gone around taking pics during the day. Have you ever seen a nightclub during the day when it's shut? They look a bit like this (opens Google streetview)

maps.google.co.uk/?ie=UTF8&ll=53.742763,-0.343033&spn=0,0.003428&t=h&z=18&layer=c&cbll=53.742681,-0.343008&panoid=6TNDTPQqdVLRY3ifw5f71A&cbp=12,297.09,,1,2.32

That does not say "Come to Hull, it has a lively nightlife".

I went to see the manager in her office. "What the bloody hell are these?"
"They're the pictures you wanted" she replied
"I can't put these on the site. They're bloody awful" I said.
"You mean to say I've wasted £350 on pictures that you don't want anymore?"
"No, you've wasted £350 on pictures of nightclubs that were taken during the day, and the photos of the sports centres look like they were taken on a Sunday outside the gates when the place is closed"

Everyone knew that she had all the people skills of Stalin and was a bit of a moody battleaxe at the best of times. There was another sort of assistant supervisor woman in there and she fell very quiet.

"Let me see" and the boss snatched the photos from me. She sent the other woman out of the office and I expected a bollocking for something or other. She thumbed through the pics.

"You'd think they'd use a bit of common sense wouldn't you? If I'd known you was going to spend that much, I would've gone round in a taxi on Friday night and taken them myself" I said
She huffed and then I added "I hope you kept the receipt". I was waiting for her to kick off. I don't grovel and creep around managers. I never have. I spoke to her with the same abruptness as she spoke to me and she didn't seem bothered by it at all.
"Well I can't be arsed, you sort it. I've got to sort out the printers in Sweden"
"What shall I say?"
"I don't know or care. Anything. Now sod off" such were her people skills.
So I did, I called them up and told them they aren't getting paid until they produce some proper night-time photos and we wanted them Monday (thus giving them the weekend to take decent ones.

Twenty minutes, battleaxe manager opens her office door. "SLVA get your arse in here" she bellowed. I got up and peope were muttering. Someone piped up 'you're in trouble now'.
"Did you tell them they aren't getting paid?" she barked. The bastards had grassed me up.
"Damn right" and I told her about my stance on consumer rights. A bit more discussion and she thanked me.
I was grilled by some of the other people in the office and they couldn't believe my tone of voice towards her. They also couldn't believe she actually said thank you. I don't think anybody had ever done anything except whimper in front of her before.

At the end of my 6 week probationary, I had a meeting with her. She praised my attitude and assertiveness. Which was nice.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 16:58, 2 replies)
'Caring' management
I met my future husband when I was an apprentice in the same company as he. After we announced we were an item, I was called into the office by HR. Not for a friendly congratulations, but instead a piece of advice:
"You should get down the doctors and get yourself some contraception."

W.T.F.

I was quite shy back then (not like now!) so I said nothing, but turned bright red. I couldn't believe she'd said that!

***

I found out later that the directors had wanted to fire me, because of our relationship! But bless him, hubby stood up for me and said if one of us had to go, it would be him and uttered those fantastic words 'Unfair Dismissal'.

We weren't allowed to work with each other in case we were 'inapproriate' (they really thought a lot of us), except when it suited them for emergency jobs that cropped up. Strange that.

***

Months later after the above HR lady had been sacked, I ended up in dreaded Sales. I hated it, not to mention the manager there was a bitch and a slapper that I absolutely loathed.
Not wanting to cause a scene, I simply did my work and kept my head down.
She approached me after a few days and asked me if I was alright. I said yes, and then she said that I hadn't been really talking that much. I shrugged. She said "But we want to talk with you."
"I'm not a very nice person to talk to." I replied, trying to get rid of her.

Ten minutes later, I'm in HR with the HR woman and her:
"Why do you not think you're a nice person?"
"Do you hate yourself?"
"Do you not get on with your mother?"
Fuck, it was like goint to a Psychiatrist. I said nothing and just stared at the table. It was awful.

I was so glad when I left, which I did because I was kept in the workshop all the time instead of being sent out to site. When I called a meeting about it I asked to be made up to an engineer or to be let out on site for training, I was point blanked refused. And yet they were still suprised when I then slapped down my letter of resignation.

Bastards, the lot of 'em.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 15:41, 8 replies)
Festival fun
A supposed 'workers' bar management organisation, who'll you'll have seen if you've been to any major British festival, rely on left/labour movement volunteers to work the bars in exchange for cash for their organisations and free entry. Let's call them the Burkhas Weir Company.

This year they've fucked us on conditions with no consultation - longer shifts, restrictions on 'free' booze, only 2 clean uniforms per event (5 days long and you get covered in booze constantly), expectations we'll now clean and wait tables, badly organised transport, and worst of all, a big fine for your group if you refuse to work (or, as it's known to most people who work there, strike).

You might consider this is whingeing from a bunch of students who want the moon on a stick. Maybe it is. But fucking over the working conditions of hundreds of organised left-wingers, socialists, anarchists and trade unionists? Got to be bad management.

If you can't get a beer at Glastonbury you'll know why...
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 15:25, 16 replies)
Pervy, PR Paul
I have worked at some good places over the years but have had the misfortune to work for some right bastards. One bloke Paul married 40 something with 3 kids, who was the part owner of a PR agency, was a real piece of work. He regularly spoke to his 6 strong female team like pieces of shit, he’d shout, swear and would pretty much do what he could to humiliate us all on a frequent basis. He also got his cock out once on a ‘team building’ trip that they took us on to France, he was and probably still is a complete c**t.

I had to take the company digital camera to a client function and when I went to download the pictures I found loads of shots of him and a very young scantily clad girl in some grubby hotel room. I’d just saved the photos onto my memory stick when he had another wig out in the main office and started bollocking one of my colleagues quite ferociously, I stood up for her and received the same bollocking. He then called us all useless c**ts and began another rant, I lost my temper at this point, told him I’d never been spoken to like this before by a manager and that I had no respect for him professionally or personally and that I was giving him 1 months notice as of that moment. He then maturely shouted ‘well f**k o** then’ at me.. Needless to say the remaining month was not exactly pleasant. It was made worse by the interviews I was made to sit through while they were searching for the poor soul that would become my replacement. They eventually found a guy called Dave, he was really nice and that’s what made it worse because I knew exactly what he was coming into. I gave him my mobile number and told him to give me a call if he had any questions or needed to find any thing. Anyway, I started my new job and had got about a month in when I got a call from Dave, it was pretty unexpected and his opening line was ‘Can I ask you honestly what Paul is like…because he has just sacked me’. Well 30 mins later it transpired that Paul had discovered that Dave had lied at his interview about his previous salary being 18k per annum, Dave had actually been on 17k. Paul wasn’t happy about this and decided to sack him, the ridiculous thing is that I had been on 22k so it clearly wasn’t all about the money. Dave had been in his previous job for 9 years and his MRS. was 7 months pregnant. Admittedly Dave had lied but a grand in the scheme of things wasn’t a lot for Paul. Considering the amount of money he was coning out of loads of our clients for doing fuck all work and the dodgy tax practices that went on in that place. Dave went on to tell me all the stuff they’d told him about me, he also imparted the bollocks that Paul had told some of the old clients about me. Paul being the c**t that he was meant that none of it was a surprise but it still pissed me off. Infact it pissed me of enough to meet up with Dave the next week where I had the pleasure in handing over the memory stick with the grubby hotel room shots and the keys to the office which Paul hadn’t even been arsed to ask me for when I left.

I found out from an old colleague about a month later about the showdown that followed in the office. Paul had decided to withhold the salary he owed Dave so Dave paid Paul a visit early one morning. He gave Paul the hiding he deserved and then left with a cheque. About a week later Paul’s MRS chucked him out following the grubby poster campaign that had been displayed along their road for all to see. What goes around, comes around.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 15:19, 10 replies)
Comparisons to Hitler
Apparently Hitler had quite a relaxed attitude towards allowing subordinates free-reign to manage their own work themselves without being micromanaged. He liked people who showed initiative and generally trusted people to do their jobs as they saw fit so long as they got results. Just saying.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 15:18, 7 replies)
Shall I tell you my story?
OK, I'll tell you my story.

I have recently joined the hallowed(!) ranks of management for the company for which I work. It happened a bit by accident.

I have learnt a hell of a lot over the past few months as a junior manager, and I will share this with you. Just don't tell anyone, OK? It's all a secret.

1: Managers hate confrontation the same as anyone else. So, if a manager is bollocking you for something, then they are probably squirming inside as much as you. A GOOD manager will make it constructive, so rather than saying "you fucked up XYZ" they should say "XYZ went badly, so next time, how's about we...."

2: Being late for work, taking overly long lunchbreaks etc are disciplinary offences. Yes, I know, we've all done it, but virtually every company out there from Bob & Dave's van rental to Microsoft will have something in their policies and procedures about not being late. It seems a bit petty, but the company sees it as costing them money.

3: Sometimes your manager will not like you. Unfortunately, that's a fact of life. But even if that is the case, a GOOD manager should leave personal feelings to one side in professional dealings. They don't always. If there is an issue with a manager, speak to them about it, or speak to a superior.

4: Following on from 3, if you are having an issue at work, or at home, that is or is likely to affect your working life, flag it up as early as possible with your manager. A GOOD manager will take all reasonable steps to help you out. Remember, a manager's role is to help ensure you can do your job.

5: Do not lie on a CV. It will come back to bite you on the arse.

6: Managers do not have to know everything about the job you do. A GOOD manager lets his staff get on and do the job, and gives them the support they need to do it. If you are an IT manager, it might be you don't know how to turn a PC on, but if you can manage your staff effectively, you may not need to. For example, my company is a private ambulance service. Of the 4 fulltime managers, only 2 have clinical experience (me, and the MD.) The other 2 (assistant MD and logistics manager) have no need to know how to stick a broken person back together. It's not their job. And believe me, it works. We are a very succesful company.

7: Finally, and most importantly, points 1-6 are completely negated if the manager is from HR. They are soul-less minions of Satan with all the sense of humour and happy-go-lucky nature of the Waffen SS. They hate all and everyone, and anything they touch turns to dust.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 15:18, 1 reply)
The Japanese
have a reputation for getting things done, but god knows how in my experience. I started a job for a Japanese firm in the UK. I was given a desk, a chair, and a screwdriver.
I was told my first job (I hadn't even been shown round yet) was to remove the arms from my chair, because only managers were allowed them.

They also had managers whose sole job was to attend meetings. They had meetings to decide who should attend meetings. I once solved a problem but was told to 'unsolve it' because there had been a meeting scheduled to discuss the solution, and they didn't want to cancel it.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 15:12, Reply)
BP
The thing that gets me with these fuckers is that they are not concerned about the environment one bit. whatever fine they will get, will be a "drop in the ocean" compared to the vast profits they will get from deep sea oil drilling.....In short they don't give a fuck!I wish there was something else we could use apart from oil but looking around my desk 90%-100% of the stuff on it uses oil in some shape or form.....
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 14:02, 18 replies)
Televisions, NHS managers and remote controls being inserted where the sun never shines!
As I still work for this barking mad NHS trust in this green and pleasant land, you'll have to forgive me being a little... vauge about names!

In my time at this hospital, one monumental total fuck up of a project was installed. At the cost to Mr. and Mrs Joe Taxpayer, of Millions of our hard earned pound notes. Oh, and money is still being wasted on it.

Now, this project wasn't really needed. The staff of the hospital all agreed that the patients should provide their own televisions if they want to want telly. Its that sort of... place, this hospital.
So, while this television system was being installed, there was grand promises made to patients of how super the new system will be, with movie channels and information channels, and of course the staff were promised with claims of being able to remotely control these televisions - they could be remotely switched off, or channels blocked if they deemed inappropriate.

Oh and any person with any experience of psychriatric patients will agree and know all full too well that you never, EVER promise anything. Cos simply, if you don't deliver, it WILL come back to bite you on the backside.

So of course, these televisions are about as reliable as a Austin Maxi on a damp autumn winter. The power supplies that power them were grossly underrated, and there were massive problems with ventilation as a lot of them are mounted high on the patients rooms walls behind all covering shrouds.

However, these tellys weren't your bog standard 15" £120 job from Argos or whereever, these units cost in the region of about £300, with the IPTV conversion box and associated bits costing from what I remember about another £400 odd. Now, the manufacturer of these tellys and the SOLE (ahem!) supplier of them were about as reliable as the tellys themselves. We ran out of power supplies to replace the ones that had given up the ghost, and although promise upon promise of replacements were given, they never turned up.

So, your happy (then) techie exclaimed "why not just buy a load of better psu's from RS components and bingo, by jove, we can get things fixed and the patients and staff will love us all once more!

Unfortunately the manager who was overseeing this project didn't agree with my perfectly simple yet clear as a window solution. We couldn't do that as we can only use the psu's supplied by the tv manufacturer. Oh, and if you use any other type then the telly's maintenance warranties would be buggered. My comment of "But they are bog standard psu's! They are standard 12V 5A units with a barrel on the end! How can they be different?! And we do all the maintenance anyway, so how can they have a warranty? Oh yeah, what do we do about if a remote control doesn't work any more cos they've had it up their jacksy?"

Mmmmm. Didn't go down too well. Apparently I'm not "qualified". And he didn't like me very much after that.

The best bits are leading up though my readers, do not dispair!
These telly's had the promise of being able to be remotely switched off or administered, so if a channel was blocked off, you couldn't watch it? Right?
Wrong. All the patients had to do was turn it off at the mains and turn it back on. Et Voila. Jobs a good un, and the thought of some of these patients tossing it off to Sexcetera on Virgin now makes my stomach turn. Bleugh.

And, the staff and overall director of the hospital have raised concerns time and time again about the reliability of the system, and it has been deemed simply not fit for purpose. So, it should be shot like a lame horse, like a poorly dog. Put it out of its misery and switch it all off. Oh no, not this manager. Lets keep spending lots more money on it, lets keep spending money on useless "upgrades" that actually make the system work.

I nearly forgot - the piece de la resistance.
The system is based on freeview channels being received by a central reciever. Lets say this big box has lots of recievers to pick up the individual channels, then a clever computer turns all these channels into data, pipes em all down Cat5 cables to the tellys, where another clever little computer box strapped to the back converts the data to pictures and sound.
However, if your aerial isn't aligned properly to the transmitter, then you get a crappy signal full of drop outs and poor quality.

The management are still ignoring the fact that there are daily complaints about the picture dropping out, freezing, etc etc.
All they need to do is align the aerial properly.

It's pointing at the wrong fucking transmitter anyway.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 13:51, 5 replies)
University management
Warning: long and not funny

As I have yet to receive my degree I will refrain from naming the uni in particular, but we have been on the news in recent months and probably will be again soon at the rate things are going, so I'm sure you'll probably work it out.

Anyhoo as I'm sure a lot of you know, universities are struggling with money right now, like a lot of places. Some unis have more sensible money saving ideas than others. My particular university has decided that its particular solution to the crisis is to make a lot of lecturers redundant. And I mean A LOT. However, for "business reasons" management and our cunt of a pro vice chancellor are getting quite significant pay rises. The redundancies also happen to mainly affect the sciences (I'm in chemistry) with some more minor changes to English and History and surprise, surprise, no redundancies in Media or Psychology. Oh and they're also getting rid of modern language degrees, which some might argue are about THE most useful arts degree anyone can do. So there's a lot of pissed off students and lecturers right now, chemistry more so pissed off and out for blood than anyone due to the fact it's only been 4 years since they tried to close us and we happen to be one of the smallest and best departments in the country. In announcing who was likely to get made redundant last week, after our bastard traitor of a head of school has been going on and on about how he wants to push medicinal chemistry and drug discovery, it turns out most of our organic lecturers are being made redundant, meaning that new staff will have to employed if they truly do want to do medicinal chemistry (and they have started advertising already - apparently experience is not necessary!) and that we may well lose our RSC accreditation. Not only that, but the lecturer they want to get rid of is one of the best teachers in the department - I only managed to pass organic chem (which I'm shit at) because of him. So yeah, that's bad management of the highest degree here.

However, this means that there has been quite a backlash, understandably, from the unions. The strikes so far have not really affected me too badly, apart from making me feel awful about crossing picket lines to come in to finish the last of my reseach project. But now one particular union has decided to fight cuntishness with cuntishness. In the fact that they're trying to disrupt the awarding of degrees to finalists next week. I am a finalist. I have a place to do a PhD at Cambridge with a deadline for me confirming me degree result. There are no words to describe quite how angry I am at this point. Yes, I feel sorry for my lecturers and uni management have behaved appallingly. But to set out to deliberately delay degree results and essentially screw over any finalist who is relying on them for a job or postgrad place? You, unnamed union, are as big, if not worse of a cunt than uni management.

Screw you all.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 12:05, 22 replies)
Just to add a little balance....
A while ago I was working at an insurance company, a new girl had started and had been there a couple of weeks when the MD happened to get into the same lift.

He, very politely (he was a pretty nice bloke by all accounts - most of the time), asked the girl, by name (he had a knack for that, remembering people's names - there were 2000 employees and he knew each and every one of us by name, I kid you not), how her first week was going.

"Not really very well," she said, "I really don't think I'm cut out for this Insurance lark".

Well, let's be honest, most people within their first week would have lied and said something like "Not bad, really enjoying it" etc.... but the reason she thought she wasn't cut out for it is because, well, she wasn't a cnut, and insurance companies, like banks, usually are.

This girl was employed to answer the complaints line (called the Customer Service Line), so she was never really going to hear good stories, but this one, possibly the third call she'd taken on her own was particularly heart-renching.
She'd taken a call from an elderly lady who'd changed her life insurance from a Bupa accredited plan to one of ours - no doubt after much cold calling.
About 6 months later, she discovered a heart condition that could have been fixed on the NHS, but only in as much as it would keep her alive. If she wanted an operation that would render her still able to be active, then there was a cost of 18 grand - which clearly she could not afford.
As we were only the agent for the insurance, the ultimate decision to pay out was up to the underwriters.
They, of course, dug into her medical history and found that around 35 years ago, the woman had been diagnosed with a slight heart murmur. I have no real idea what that means, but am assured that it's nowhere near as bad as it sounds.

The pound being the almighty, the underwriters saw this as a neat little way to wriggle out of paying, as she had declared that she had no health defects when she took the policy.
The lady was distraught; this meant that the two dogs she had would have to go as she would be out of breath walking to the front door let alone walking her dogs twice a day.

The MD of the company, asked the girl in the lift to his office and asked her why she replied in the way she did. She explained the story to him.

This MD had been at the company at this point for around 3 weeks. He went to see the chairman, and asked what he should do about it. The Chairman replied, "Why are you asking me? You're the MD..."

...and so, the company paid the 18 grand for the old lady to have her operation. The girl was told, and was asked to phone her up with the good news.

The op. went ahead, and the lady knitted a thanky you letter to the girl. Yes, knitted it, and sent it in with pics of her walking her dogs.

Not all managers are cocks.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 11:42, 15 replies)
Peach Pub Company
These bastards are responsible for months of piss-taking and two-faced lying to first mrs teddy bear and then yours truly.

On the surface this company seems to be your normal swanky I'm going to serve you 1 lonely oyster, decoratively displayed because I'm a pretentious twunt, and then lightly drizzle it with our chef's special spunk and charge you £12 for the privilage (personally I like my food cheap and dead: not sick or wounded: dead). The only reason the mrs stuck it out so long was that she would make more in tips in one shift than I would working a 16hr day.

Management were fuckwits. The whole operation is dodgy as. Each individual pub offered staff accommodation (thankfully mrs teddy bear was living with me) which comprised rooms the size of wardrobes and 1 toilet between 7 people (illegal I hear you cry?). And, staff were charged £200 a month for this shit tip.

But this is not my real problem. MY problem came when management put mrs teddy bear on BR taxrate not 647L (causing her to lose £1200 in tax which mysteriously disappeared), did not inform her she required a WRS certificate to work there (she is Estonian!) so she worked illegally for over a year, didn't give her her P60, payslips, any official contract and then reduced her shifts when I complained on her behalf. Management dicked me around for days giving me excuse after excuse not to produce these legal forms. I finally went down there to confront Oliver, the mincing little flange weasel who called himself duty manager, who then lied to my face saying they were still waiting for HMRC to produce mrs teddy bear's P60 and payslips. This is where I lost it and made rather a scene during their busy lunch hour. As a result I was forcibly ejected from the pub by the head manager. However, 2 days later mrs teddy bear was emailed all the forms. I think the threat of legal action might have triggered it.

Sorry for lack of funnies but I feel better now!
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 11:19, 10 replies)
prick manager
FUCK THIS

I posted this three times and the formatting keeps cunting up. Im in work avoiding my cunt of a boss and haven't got time to sort it yet. Apologies.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 11:07, Reply)
Posted on the Spoonerisms and Wordplay Forum once
I posted in the greetings section: "Hi there! This looks like a cosey little nook" but it came out as "nosey little cook".

Unfortunately the moderator, who happens to cook for a living, failed to see the humour. He got extremely annoyed at what he saw as a personal attack aimed in his direction, and banned me from the forum.

It was a Mad Banishment.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 10:55, 4 replies)
Similar to PKM's and Jeccius' stories
My dad was rushed into hospital out of the blue, and we were told he needed a quadruple bypass. I'd never even heard of one of these before, I thought the worst was a triple bypass. My boss knew all about this and was still her usual vile self refusing to allow me time off to be with my family, taking every opportunity to bully me.

When the day of the operation came around, I was getting quietly hysterical. Trying to do work but having to re-read things over and over again. He was going into theatre at 4. My boss worked 9.30 till 2.30. At about 3 I couldn't do it anymore, my boss had gone home, her boss was off work too. So I asked their boss if there was anyway I could go home because I was completely unable to do my work. He was horrified that I was even there when I had that going on, and he sent me home telling me to take as long as I needed, paid. He just told me to phone in the next day to let my boss know what was going on.

So, I phone in the next morning, shattered and still hugely worried because they've put my Dad into a coma because he had some complications. Does my boss ask how my Dad is? Does she ask how I'm doing? Of course not, the first thing she asks was what was the urgency? why did I need to leave so suddenly? She then informs me that regardless what the big boss says, she will only allow me two days off paid, anything after that will have to be unpaid or holiday.

This isn't the end of it though. When I get back to work the next Monday I get taken into a disciplinary meeting for the time off I've had earlier in the year (Car crash and food poisoning). I don't get told I can take someone in with me, I'm not even told it's a disciplinary meeting. My boss then threatens me that what happened to Dennis will happen to me. Dennis btw was a lovely guy, but never turned up on time, took double length breaks, plus smoking breaks, plus messed up the system quite a lot along with others things they never told us about, they got rid of him fairly swiftly. I'd just had a perfect appraisal, very grudgingly given of course.

I complained to HR, and the first girl I spoke to was lovely and really helpful. However when her boss saw the name involved, she took over. I was given a meeting with this lady, my boss, and my boss' boss, the one who had been off work when I needed to go. I was told in no uncertain terms that I was not believed, they had know my boss for 8 years and she wouldn't do anything like this. (No-one in my post had ever lasted more than a year before transferring to a different department or leaving, 3 months was a good record and I'd done nearly 8) They left me in tears and feeling utterly helpless. I left two weeks later to look after my Dad. I detailed everything that happened in my leaving interview, but I very much doubt they did anything about it.

Sorry for the rant. BP at CA, I hope that you suffer from great pain. There is no-one else in the world that I would ever wish that upon, even death (which I wouldn't wish on anyone) is too good for you.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 10:24, 10 replies)
Oh dear
When I worked for Norwich Union, the brass decided we should spend one casual Friday dressing up like we were in a Michael Jackson video from 1987. They insisted that we study the source material and other works by its director, one Martin Scorsese, and even brought in a bunch of kids dressed in the same gear as us for authenticity.

That was some Bad management
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 9:34, 2 replies)
PKM's story below reminded me of this
2 people who were on the split shift team in our office for a few years, boyfriend and girlfriend (L and K), both some of the nicest people I have ever worked with for some random reason did not show up for work one morning. Everyone thought it was a bit odd, plus our management didn't hear anything from them.

The next morning we had a phonecall from them; apparently L's parents had been through a massive ordeal the night before. His mum had collapsed and after being rushed to hospital found out that she needed a life-saving operation which would only give her a 50/50 chance. Obviously everyone was hit for six by this, so much so that the father collapsed in A&E suffering a massive heart attack and sticking him at Death's door.

Both of them were completely out of it by then, and it was only when the father started making a recovery after the mum survived the operation that L decided to ring work the next day.

A couple of days later, after both his parents were out of the woods both come back in. We had heard about it in passing and all checked to see if they were ok when they come back in. L and K settled in ok and started to get back on with work.

A few hours later, HR come down from the offices above and called L into a meeting, we assumed to see if he was ok. 10 minutes later he comes back down with a blank look on his face, sits next to K and tells her what just happened. Apparently because he was more concerned with both his parents on the verge of dropping dead rather than ringing in to tell work all about it, he was given a disciplinary and an official warning on his record. Also K was to go straight up and see HR as they wanted to do the same with her too.

K is a lovely petite girl, but she turned purple with rage as she marched upto their office. We could hear the screaming from the office floor, she was fucking livid. 5 minutes of shouting and screaming later, she walks calmly out of the office and back down to the floor and casually asks L if he wanted to walk out. He said "Yeah, fuck it". They packed up their stuff and walked out, never to be seen again.

I spoke to them both on facebook a few months later, and they have both never been happier.
(, Wed 16 Jun 2010, 8:42, 1 reply)
I used to work for this appalling old slapper.
I'd have to go round her house when she was asleep and well, remove lobsters from up her arsehole.
(, Tue 15 Jun 2010, 22:44, 11 replies)
Worst job I've ever had
Sorry if this is a bit rambling and long.

I used to run a charity shop and had an awful district manager, I'll call her Mary

I worked for a different charity a few doors down, I was great at that job.
I was talking to Mary and she persuaded me to go and work for her. Her shop had no volunteers, was taking no money and she just wanted it running properly and making a profit. She said she didn't really want anything to do with it. I told her how I wanted to run the one I worked in, basically Mary Queen of Charity Shops stole my ideas. If I went working for her I could do it how i liked and she'd leave me alone. It sounded too good to be true but I belived her.

So I got the job.

A woman I would be working with, Sue, started a couple of weeks before me and left after one week.
Another woman, Anne, started on the same day as me. She got the job because they had shredded all the details of people that they had interviewed and Anne had phoned up to ask why she didn't get the job, so Mary gave it to her.
Anne could not do the job and got sacked after a month.

Something didn't seem right and after rummaging through paperwork in the office I discovered I was the 9th or 10th person to have had this job in two years

I was left running a shop on my own for the next three months. Mary said she would come as often as possible to help me and give me a day off. I think I saw her once every two weeks because her own shop was too busy. When she did come it was awful. Volunteers I had gained would change their days if they knew she was coming in. Some staff met Mary once and were never seen again.

If I had good takings one week Mary would be lovely on the phone saying well done and that I was ace, turned the shop around, she couldn't belive she was so lucky to have me. When she turned up in the shop she would change. The stock was crap, it looks shit. I need to get more good stuff in. She would then chuck half of the stock in the bin so my shop was almost empty. It was so disheartening.
If my takings dropped she would turn up, say she couldn't understand why the takings were bad and that the shop looked great, the stock was amazing etc.

Annes job was now being advertised but the number of applications was very low, but one woman, Jane, seemed ok, a good laugh and generally lovely person. She started and within a few weeks it was obvious she was drinking on the job. It took Mary six months to get rid of her. Why it took her that long I don't know. Judging by her past history she had no problem firing anybody. I think half of the people that had worked there before me had been fired.

I had had enough at this point and was looking for another job. It was depressing. I had lost all enthusiasm. Mary was getting worse and made me get rid of one lad that was on a scheme because he couldn't work the hours he was supposed to due visiting his dad who might die in hospital. I wanted to just change them but she wouldn't listen to me.

She would turn up without telling me she was coming to 'help' me with two people from the shop that she ran personally and then complain that I had too many staff in that day. Although I told her there were three more people in the building than usual every time she did this it didn't stop her.

Another time she just decided that the bins were full. One of the two was actually still empty. These were both filled to the top with unsaleable crap people had donated and emptied three times a week. She sent all the rubbish that day to the top floor. I then had to run up and down three flights of stairs to get rid of it. As the bins were constantly full it took me three weeks to get rid of it all.

Mary wouldn't do paper work of any sort. The first week I was there I told her we needed a new first aid box. I asked her again, and again. It was flagged up by the auditor twice while I was there. Still no complete first aid box. I assume they probably still don't have one now.



After Jane came Beth. She was amazing. Between us we were a formidable force. The shop was one of the highest taking charity shops in the town, 2'nd or third place I reckon. It was like a boutique.
Everything was good for about 6 months. Mary stopped being weird. We were all having a good time and getting along. I was enjoying myself again in the only job I have ever loved. We decided Mary was a changed woman.

It wasn't to last.

Mary turned up and I didn't feel well. Banging headache, tired etc. I had had half a day off in the whole year I had been there. Mary accused me of being hungover. She was horrible that day. Anything she could find that wasn't quite right she had a go about, she complained about anything and everything. She had me running up and down stairs with stuff even though she knew I didn't feel well and was going to go home at lunch.


That weekend I decided that Mary wouldn't change and I didn't want to put up with her weirdness anymore. I wrote my resignation and popped it in my bag.
Mary come to the shop on Monday telling me she had sent me a letter that I never recieved, not surprising as she is so incompetent. I said I hadn't but I had one for her.

My job was advertised within 48 hours. As I worked my notice, the head of the retail division and head of HR come from head office to try persuade me not to leave. I told them I was leaving because of Mary, it must have been relayed to her as Mary asked me not to leave and that as she had another shop to look after I wouldn't see her often any more.

The shop she took over took a decent amount of money. When she was put in charge the manager resigned, the takings plummeted and the volunteers left. How Mary manages to keep her job I do not know.

I miss the job, Beth and the volunteers. It was poorly paid but bizarre and so much fun that the pay didn't matter. It was a shame the boss was a twat.
(, Tue 15 Jun 2010, 22:02, Reply)
In general I think the madness and badness of managers has something to do with fishes and ponds.


For example a Payroll managers spent years as payroll clerks and then worked their way up one step to Payroll manager. Their whole working life is repeating the same tedious job with an absolute weekly deadline....and they've been doing it for fucking years. All Payroll managers are angry all the time.
(, Tue 15 Jun 2010, 20:29, 5 replies)
This happened today.
Ok for the past few months i've been unemployed (mainly due to me being busy with coursework and also finding it hard to get a job in a town mostly occupied by students).

Anyhoo, i've managed to wangle a new job that includes free accomadation on the basis that i don't mess about. Fine. The job is pretty mundane, mainly cleaning and basic maintenance - but it suits me fine.

I'm not due to start this job for another two weeks, but today i got a call from the people and was asked if i minded doing a 'couple of hours work'. I'd not had a full nights sleep and also had a fairly busy morning in town, but i asked if they needed me for long.

Fine i thought. So i went to reception and spoke to the 2nd manager, and asked what was needed of me, and was told that it would only take an hour or so and that all i needed to do was check and clean the doors on one side of the campus with a special type of chemical. This i did. I also cleaned ALL the doors on another side of the campus too (just to impress them) and happily returned three hours later back to reception and signed off, happy in the knowledge that i'd done more than they had asked of me.

Anyhoo, as per usual i start chatting to my friend who works opposite reception in the shop and all is good.

Until the 1st manager comes storming over and quite loudly asks what i'm doing wasting time chatting to the staff. I tell him that i'd finished the job and that i had been signed out by the 2nd manager.

Manger: 'Right, I don't want you to be standing around chatting all day, there's work to be done!'

Me: 'Okay, but i've done all that block like you asked'

Manager: 'Yeah but there's more doors to clean!'

Me: 'I've done them all, and removed every single staple from ALL the doors and brushed up and cleaned the windows and was told it was okay to sign out'

Manager: 'WHO told you to sign out? I never did! I don't want you acting like this when you start your proper shift!'

Me: 'Well the 2nd manager said it was fine, she said i only had to work a few hours, i've done all the blocks!'

Manager: 'Well you should have come and found me, it's ME who tells you when you can and cannot sign out!'

Me: 'But i did come and try and find you'

Manager: 'If i have any repeat of this again, you won't be getting your free accomadation and you'll have no job, if you keep this attitude up'

Me: '..............'

Manager: 'I want a FULL days work tomorrow'

Me: 'Am i working tomorrow? Nobody has said anything'

Manager: 'Yes and no skiving off , pic and mixing in the shop when there's work to be done!'

And off he toddled to his car and went home. Leaving me utterly confused. I thought i'd done him a big favour by coming in last minute and doing more than i'd been asked to do. And then i was left with the sinking feeling that the next 9 weeks are going to be hell, as this was the last hope of staying here without finding other accomadation (impossible without a job to pay a deposit).

I can only assume the manager thinks i'm telepathic.

And yes he said 'pic and mixing' , i have no idea what it means.

--

If i didn't value the idea of free rent, i could be an utter bastard and ask him why he's got untrained staff handling chemicals.
(, Tue 15 Jun 2010, 19:22, 8 replies)
Bad management, though exquisite stupidity is more accurate
I was in my back garden when I heard a rattling squeaky sound of someone dragging a trolley made from sheet steel loosely bolted together. I peeked through the fence and sure enough there was a couple of unkempt gentlemen dragging a trolley. I saw then go through the rigmarole of holding someone's gate open as they dragged their trolley up to the front door and knocked on it.

It appears they were peddling 'free-range eggs' which sounds dubious to say the least. The occupants declined their offer, and they dragged their rattly barrow from the garden and across the street.

I carried on with my business in the garden. (Actually mixing up some weedkiller). A few minutes later, they came rattling and squeaking back and went to the house next door to the one they went to first. After the same response as last time, they buggered off again.

A few minutes later, they came back again and went to the house next door to that one. Same response. And then I suspected what they were doing. My suspicions were confirmed when I heard them talking,

"This is taking forever." says one
"Look, it'll be easier this way, we won't miss any out then. Anyway, who's fucking trolley is it? I'll decide how we do it So, that's 41, 42, 43, 44, 45 and 46. 47 must be on the next block over there behind the other". said the second imbecile.

Yup, rather than going along each side, they were knocking on doors in numerical order and having to cross the road each time. They're going to be stumped when they get to 51, 53 and 55 because they used to be flats and were pulled down leaving a new house numbered 57A.
(, Tue 15 Jun 2010, 18:19, 1 reply)
My local libraries firewall
blocks b3ta as 'Inappropriate Content' but allows access to 4chan
(, Tue 15 Jun 2010, 16:42, 12 replies)

This question is now closed.

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