I had a long, serious meeting with my cowboy boss this morning. I was scheduled to meet with my professor boss in the afternoon and tell him the whole horrible truth about his brand new shiny deficit of ($249,000).
“Will he be mad, do you think?” I wondered.
“Oh yeah,” said the cowboy.
“Will he yell?” I asked.
“Hoo boy, yes. He’s gonna hit the roof.”
“What should I do? Should I just sit through it?”
“Yes, just wait him out. He’ll rant and scream for awhile and then calm down eventually.”
Heart in mouth crowding my foot, I crept up the stairs to my professor boss’s office, clutching my backup paperwork like an 8″x11″ rosary. I gingerly laid the debt on his desk in front of him and waited, eyes squeezed shut, to be fired.
“Oh, that’s no problem,” said this calm, kind gentleman who I suddenly remembered had been my boss all along, even as my other boss has always been a little psychotic and prone to fits of hyperbole and drinking in the office. “Here’s how we can fix that,” said my lamb of a professor boss, and fixed it beautifully, and with all the weight that has been lifted from me I think I will become a model.