literature

Character - Boss Man

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

"And how's my favorite team doing this morning?" Boss Man smiles as he approaches the building's front door, knowing his plastic grin will reach even his eyes and instill in them a warm twinkle. It's an expression he is quite proud of, one he can show no matter how he truly feels about those it is used on. One's true feelings are irrelevant, Boss Man has always believed, what really matters is what the troops need to see: confidence, warmth, pride. He passes a knowing nod to the nearest assistant, who smiles guiltily. The team is late of course, their lead is well known for rules laxity but then he's been working here nearly as long as Boss Man so there's not much Boss Man can do about it. Currently said lead is yawning as he jingles his way through the immense ring of keys at his side, a mug of smoking coffee in the other hand and a face that avoids Boss Man's gaze with a practiced ease.

One of the older assistants speaks up, a steady worker but not the brightest, "Pretty good sir, you?" The thought of making an example of the kid flits through Boss Man's head, perhaps finding something wrong with his gear and making him fix it in front of the rest of his team. There is always something wrong with an assistant's gear, generally the middle strap on the side is loose or the cord is coiled incorrectly. Instead, Boss Man turns the full force of his patented plastic smile on the kid, as he wonders why this one assistant so stirs his ire.

"Fine, fine, making the rounds, and there's a closet on the third floor I need to check for a missing key card." The lie comes easily, no reason the kid should know Boss Man was only here to witness this tardy arrival of his least favorite team. The kid continues smiling back, almost unnervingly now, a mirror to Boss Man's own fixed rictus and in direct contrast to the other assistants who can barely hide their hate for Boss Man … mixed of course with a healthy dose of fear. Turning away from the smart-mouth kid, approaching the lead, "Need a hand with the keys? I brought the master for that closet, it'll – ."

"Just about got it." The lead doesn't turn, continuing to fumble through the keys with a practiced air of not being able to find the right one. "Right, here it is." Reaching forward finally with the correct key he unlocks the door and ushers his team inside. Turning to Boss Man with a practiced friendly grin, "I'll take a look for that card, you wouldn't want to miss that call from the delivery company bringing the bags I requested a few weeks ago." Boss Man desperately wishes he could punch this man, not that he thinks he could beat the younger and leaner man, only so he could wipe away that smile. Instead Boss Man turns his plastic smile up to eleven with a friendly chuckle.

"Of course, the late shipment." The shipment was not late, Boss Man had simply decided to wait before calling it in to teach this lead a lesson about who was the boss around here. "But, while I'm here I might as well let you get straight to work, I'll check the closet." The lead nods, as he rightly knows he should, and Boss Man follows him into the building. The assistants have already split up to find empty rooms, if they had still been loitering Boss Man would have been there to say something to them but for now he can only walk toward the building's sole elevator.

Even the lead has a certain hatred in evidence, Boss Man muses. It is well controlled of course, the man would have been fired long ago if he could not do so, but that control itself proves the underlying emotion. Boss Man loves it, the fear of the newly hired assistants, the controlled hate evident in most leads. All of those emotions kept just under the surface means they know Boss Man is the boss, it means he has their full attention and respect. Boss Man very much likes knowing he has their full attention and respect, it is a power he holds over them far more potent than simply their jobs.

The smart-mouth assistant smiles as he walks past the elevator for the stairs, pressing the button, "Here you go sir!" projected down the hallway toward Boss Man. Boss Man grins back, his usual warm plastic smile, now hating this kid more than the lean lead. The little turd, using his own plastic smile back at him! Boss Man steps into the opening elevator, pressing the third floor button. The plastic smile is his to use for goodness sake, not some snot-nosed kid. Boss Man would readily accept barely concealed fear or hate, but that smile … that smile he hates to see on another's face more than anything. That smile means he is being made fun of, means he is being played, means he is being disrespected.

So this is the story of a man named Boss Man. Boss Man is a master of the plastic smile, and he doesn't seem too happy to see it on others.


I have to be careful when talking about the origins of pieces like this because I do take inspiration for these people from my life and I am not always as kind as I should be. I therefore feel obligated to say that I am no longer working for this person and of course bear them no ill will; I shouldn't need to explain that I am not a mind reader and thus I do not know if my “mental chatter” for that person was in any way accurate to the real person and events that inspired this piece. If anything this piece says more about me than it ever could about that person; we see ourselves in others because we are all we know, and in assuming things about the personalities of others we can only imagine what we have in ourselves. I am a person who uses a fake smile to try and make others feel comfortable in my presence, although I don't yet have the skill with the plastic smile that Boss Man does. Boss Man dislikes this team (and he isn't entirely unjustified, we really were late to work every day, with several people absent most days and our equipment always in sloppy condition) and so he sees only hate from them; when the smiling assistant (me) presses the elevator button for him as he walks toward it he only sees a smart-mouth kid making fun of him and in some sense can't comprehend the action as being purely benevolent … not that it was, I knew if I opened the elevator for him he would leave sooner and stop watching us make our way through the ground floor. For the Boss Men out there, remember, other people are not you. For everyone else … ah who am I kidding, we all have a little Boss Man in us. I like this piece, it's short and sweet and has a neat little message or two. What did I learn? For an everyday jerk, simply have someone who says one thing and thinks the other.

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DarkeAngel's avatar
hoisted by his own petard...