A Despicable Boss & Me

Marcus Aurelius had much to say in Meditations. But one stands out to me personally: “The best revenge is not to be like your enemy.”
During much of the 198Os, I worked for someone who was genuinely despicable and was the opposite of what I wanted to be and how I wanted to be regarded by society.
Periodically, my boss, Vesuvius, would rumble, and the ground quake. Another order to appear before him on some trumped-up issue would emerge, and he would threaten my job. I would present my carefully documented records and rally the support of the community I worked in. The rumblings would recede into barely perceptible tremors—for a while.

Very early in this relationship, I understood the power of this individual and the intimidation tactics he relished. He wasn’t interested in organizational achievements; those were just a cover for his getting off on the fear produced in his underlings.
Fridays were bad. On Fridays, someone was always on the grill getting roasted. It was a weekly event. We all suffered the Friday grilling in turns. You could term yourself wealthy if you avoided his Gestapo tactics for a longer than usual time. But he always returned to his “favorites” to torment.

I was exceptionally fortunate. Like so many of his sort, he was a crude, dumb jerk. He lacked patience, jumped at supposed infractions without proof, and feared political reprisal.
I was working at the city’s far end, far from him distance-wise. My job was creating cultural programs and educational material, which you can only do with the community’s involvement. So, as trained, I met, befriended, and became involved in my small community.

I was lucky. My small community shielded me, and a few city council members came to appreciate what I was doing.

People like my boss always fear that those above them will treat them the way they have treated those who work for them. Without consciously trying, I had made my sadistic boss leery of possible political retaliation. It didn’t stop him, but it did slow him down.
At lunch one day, a fellow worker mentioned to me that seven years was about the point at which people either left city employment or decided to stick it out for retirement. I had about seven years in and did not want to stay for retirement. I pressed hard to find alternate sources of employment, and in about four months, I lined up enough consulting work to give me the confidence that I could leave city employment.

The day came when I walked into my boss’s office suite to hand in my resignation. He was at lunch, so I casually left the slip of paper in its envelope lying on his desk. I took a leisurely lunch and walked back to my little corner of the city. It was only a moment after I stepped into my office that the phone rang. My friend called to let me know that Vesuvius had erupted at the sight of my resignation.
My resignation interrupted his most recent scheme to fire me. It robbed him of his ultimate pleasure. On the other hand, I spent time reflecting on seven and a half years of achievements for the small community I had worked for.
I also found the truth in Marcus Aurelious’s quote: “The best revenge is not to be like your enemy.” My former boss tormented others for many years—after all, there is a certain molasses-like slowness to government. But I resolved and kept my resolve to avoid being like him. I consider this one of the most important things I have done that allowed me to live a good life.

Daily writing prompt

What are the most important things needed to live a good life?

View all responses