The Boss

You'd think with the economy in the crapper that businesses would hire the best of the best. Maybe that is true somewhere but here at my school, not so much. Let's start with my Boss. Picture a woman in her 60's, slightly overweight, with a love of bad suits. Black suits with pink polka dots and ugly fabric flowers in the lapel. Giant shoulder pads and lime green polyester. Ugly, high wasted slacks with zippers in the back. Then picture, mounted in between these mammoth shoulder pads that any other self-respecting woman burned after 1991, a bulbous head with a tight bun of bleach blond hair topped off with a curly, frizzy mismatched hair piece. Her Bangs in a perfect curling iron twist with tight sausage curls on either side. This woman thinks she is the epitome of the "professional woman" and likes to tell her subordinates how unprofessional they are at every turn. She often speak exclusively in southern colloquialisms that make little sense and do not pertain to the conversation. She thinks the best way to motivate her staff is to make sure they feel their job is in constant danger. She often displays signs of what I can only assume is early stages of dementia or perhaps it's just her hearing aid that always seems to be on the fritz when you need to ask her anything important.