Personality File Vol. 4: Boss's Birthday
Personality File
A company-funded event.
A moment to stretch your legs.
Get to know your colleagues.
A half hour to eat store-bought cupcakes.
Sip stale coffee.
“The weather is nice today.”
“How was your weekend?”
Chatter.
Chuckle.
Gossip about nothing.
Make it believable.
You’re on the clock.
Pretend to care.
It matters to someone.
Today, it does.
It’s the boss’s birthday.
The Assistant
“I can’t with this guy.”
Your genuine concern frustrates you. You’re playing the game wrong, you care more than your boss. Like a good crewmate, you would sink with the ship.
“He’s running a little late today.”
“You just missed him.”
He was never there. He missed both his meetings, and you’ve become an excellent storyteller. You weave lies with excuses for him and seal the plot holes tight. You retain the continuity of his misadventures.
He’d call himself a philanthropist.
You’d call him a generous drinker.
You’re glad he’s stopped sobbing in the restroom.
“He was feeling under the weather.”
He’s a sick man, and often ill. Sick leave has its own rules. It’s not vacation time. You know he treats Fridays as a three day vacation. Mondays are for hangovers. You’re diligent, focused, and he “couldn’t have done it without you.” You run a tight ship, but there’s no wind to set the course.
“Of course he’d miss his own birthday.”
Your letter of resignation is on its final draft. Edited to death for over a year. You’ve rehearsed the exit interview, like convincing yourself of your worth. Like a lizard’s tail the company will grow another assistant. You’re waiting for your annual review. It’s been three years since your last one. You wonder:
“What would he do without me?”
But what would you do without him?
The HR Representative
“A cake with his face on it? Yeah right, there’s no budget for that.”
He spends more than he makes. Warnings are never final. You tested your luck with a page from his book:
“The bakery had a scheduling mix-up.”
You played your cards correctly. It was Friday. Chances of his arrival were twenty-five percent. The boss liked the idea of the cake more than he liked cake. Self-worship, the ritual, you’ve dealt with stronger egos. Your paycheck says to blame the victim.
His sexual advances.
“She wasn’t a cultural fit.”
The unpaid overtime
“They lack adaptability”
Egregious remarks.
“He doesn’t respond well to feedback.”
You proudly wear a smile with jaws clenched from frustration. It wasn’t always like this. Your colleagues, they speak their mind about the boss:
“He’s such a creep.”
A unique leadership style.
“He called off again?”
Operates best with autonomy.
“He said that openly?”
He’s deeply passionate.
You’re reading a script. A script with no direction. A moral compass without a needle.
His secrets are safe with you, just smile and nod.
You match his expectations.
The Intern
“He’s recovering from a bender or barely starting one, that’s gonna be me someday.”
Wide-eyed and willing, but college credits won’t buy you a Bugatti. You take lunch with your boss. You snort the minty aftertaste from the back of your throat. He treats you like a drinking buddy. You’re just along for the ride. He told you:
“College is for suckers, call me when you graduate and I’ll make you some real money.”
You took it to heart, he’s who you want to be. He said he used to be a loser but now he’s a changed man:
“Skipped out on his own birthday, what a legend!”
You started slicking back your hair, just like him. You wore your tie with a Windsor knot. The business knot, the makings of a millionaire. You left your high school sweetheart. Grew up together but now she’s:
“Too small town.”
Your boss showed you who he’d spend nights with. Women of all shapes and flavors:
“Girlfriends are a cash dump, might as well pay for the hottest one.”
Your high school sweetheart has your letterman jacket, you switched it out for a Hugo Boss:
“It’s just a grand, it’ll pay for itself.”
Never meet your heroes.
You’ll end up like them.
The Fling
“Where is he? We’re supposed to go to Cabo.”
Cabo, a place for the rich to have an affair. Thoughts you’ve never had. Your first time being the other girl. A first time for everything. Moving to the big city, your ex-boyfriend promised a new beginning. Seven years hadn’t passed, but the distance still did.
“Men are simple. They want younger, dumber, and hotter.”
He reminded you of your ex today. Abandoned again, but never shook. The broken promise lingers like a papercut. Tiny incisions, the mark of your indecisions. You’ve seen worse. Left with the bills and left at the altar.
“If he had a soul, he wouldn’t have cold feet.”
The boss was different. He spoke with passion during meetings. Not a trace of making advances. He never looked you in the eyes, but couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
“Maybe hormones, a drink, and midlife crisis?”
A cocktail of suppression. You were the cute intern, then you got the job. Some colleagues stopped asking while others took the opening. Unwanted gestures, but you learned quickly. Wedding vows are political speeches. Engagement rings are souvenirs.
“Let them do what they want. They know they can’t have me.”
An associate-level position in a corporate kingdom. Senior-level archdukes treat you like a Queen. Concert tickets and fine dining. Plans were made for you. The sound of whimpers cut through the sound of his shower.
“Poor guy, can’t even cheat right.”
His change was abrupt, like someone put a spell on him. The thought of being a mistress, a win-win you told yourself. You might have liked him just enough, but today he broke a promise.
Love is for the weak.
The Boss’s Brother
“That’s why I took the spare keys. They say they’re the happiest before they do it. Cabo, a new life?”
You knew your brother best. He was stoic. He was private. Mental toughness was his mental health.
“You weren’t yourself.”
You’re sitting in your brother’s living room. You watch him sway with the ceiling fan. Like party streamers, he’s a decoration.
“Is this what you meant by a new life?”
A celebration for his birthday. He had outbursts. He got in fights.
“He was never the same.”
A home invasion. The type of nightmare that happens to other people.
Not to him. The safe was untouched.
They took what money couldn’t buy.
No bonus check could bring back a family of four. Empty bottles of whiskey covered the dining table.
“It wasn’t your fault, couldn’t you see that?”
The HR department knew.
He asked them not to tell.
He always wanted a family.
Shared photos, planned anniversaries.
He tried to find meaning again.
In a life he couldn’t save.
He didn’t get to say goodbye.
So he found a way to do it.
Written and owned by Ryan S.K.
All rights reserved.
Shared for the sake of it.
Open to gigs, collabs, or wherever this leads.
Photo by Florian Schmid on Unsplash
So entertaining to have this round table and see all perspectives!
Loved this line: "Never meet your heroes. You’ll end up like them."
Great read, as always! 🖤
Hung on every single word. This was great.