Bosses: the one where you don't have Friends

The one with the train

The available seat

I'm an Individual Contributor (yep, still no direct reports!) on a gloomy Monday morning waiting for the Tower Gateway train on a crowded platform. As usual, the train is late. As usual, the delay is getting larger. As usual, the train is already crowded.

Unusually (very unusually I might say), I spot one available seat on the aisle. I hurry up and sit. The passenger next to me is looking distracted to the window listening to a techno beat on his big Beat phones. His phones are familiar and so is his green jacket with large side pockets.

Of course I know him! The guy is Timbo. His place is in Beckton (hence why he always gets an available seat on the DLR line) and his place in the office is just under Charlie. Yes, we all have a place in the office and that's always under some Boss! His place is under Charlie just as my place is under Nigel!

Hello Timbo, is my starting line hoping in vain to get some sort of acknowledgment as well. Timbo makes himself more comfortable closing his eyes. It feels awkward but so is work, hence I just pick my phone and open the LiveScore app to check what I'm gonna follow at work all day.

The train runs fast. We stop at Westferry, Limehouse and Shadwell. Timbo is still acing his way around to avoid me. Tower Gateway is just around the corner so I lift my backpack with the intention of getting off. Just as I stand up, Timbo opens his eyes looking nowhere. Somehow I hope that he just didn't see him the first time so I say hello again. This time I even raise the stake saying Are you ok, Timbo?

It's all in vain. My body is invisible and my voice is inaudible for my co-worker. He is just standing up waiting for me to move so he can get off. I finally start moving to the front of the train like everyone else. I'm curious what Timbo's strategy is once he'll walk next to me walking out of the train's doors. And his strategy is brilliant. He walks against the flow to the back of the train even if that means a longer journey to the station entrance.

The coffee

I hurry up like everyone else to get out of the station but then stop to the nearest Starbucks.   I just cannot go straight to the office pretending that nothing happened. I grab a coffee to drink in and I take a sit by the cafe's window.

I know that I'm going to be late because it is 8.52 and it takes more than eight minutes to finish my coffee and walk to the office. I can already picture my old-fashioned Boss looking at his watch, shaking his head and making some notes in his diary. Yes, despite having three monitors, a mobile phone, a table watch plus a wall watch not far from his desk... he is still looking at his watch to check the time. That's what he did in the 80s, that's what he does now. The watch has changed from a Casio A159W to an Apple Watch Series 9. The habit has not.

While sipping from my coffee and thinking on my boss' watch, I can see Timbo passing by. He looks towards the cafe but then he looks away, probably realising I'm looking at him. I can't stop but thinking what the heck is wrong with him. With his big headphones and his green jacket, he seems stuck in his own bubble. Or, since we both live in Docklands, in his own dock. Spelled D-O-C-K. With a D for Delta. A dock closed for any interaction with a lock. Spelled L-O-C-K. With an L for Lima.

Yet, if we replace the D from dock or the L from lock with a C for Charlie, there you have it: you'll have Charlie, Timbo's Boss. Rumour has it that once upon a time, maybe 15 years ago, Charlie and my Boss' predecessor were good friends until they weren't. At which point, insults were flying, people got defensive and the two Bosses ring fenced their teams in two separate bubbles (or two separate docks closed with two locks).

The Cold War

At some point my Boss' predecessor left, he was succeeded by Jimbo who was later succeeded by Nigel, my actual Boss. Both Nigel and Charlie were paying extra care to the appearances so from an outsider like their own Boss, things seemed to be all right. Yet, from the inside you could see the hate in their hearts.

The actual war was over but the Cold War never ended. My boss Nigel took over the team with no intention whatsoever of stopping this war. Like two lions, Charlie and Nigel were hiding behind the cubicle walls chasing the rival's team members and taking notes. How long did Timbo checked his phone texting someone on WhatsApp? How long was Jack chatting to Rachel? How long was Nitish away from his desk?

People under Charlie did not talk to people under Nigel, people under Nigel did not talk to people under Charlie. Everyone was looking for the right opportunity to put the blame on the other team's members. The blaming culture was ingrained in the organisation's culture under the watchful eyes of Charlie and Nigel. Every single mistake of Nigel's reports (myself included) was the perfect opportunity for Charlie to brag about on weekly managers' meetings. And viceversa.

And Timbo? Timbo was the perfect useful idiot who loves himself and hates everyone else. This job was his perfect excuse to be as miserable as he wants knowing that he will have his Boss' approval. The more unsociable he acts with someone from the rival team, more brownie points he'll get from his Boss.

Back in the office

As I walk through the office door, I can see Charlie shaking his head, making some notes and thinking about the next management meeting. Yes, he'll have someone to blame! Timbo takes a fake smile while waiving and so does his colleague Mara. It's like he hasn't me for ages!

Arriving at my desk, I can see a bald jolly clown taking a big interest in his table clock. The little hand points to 9 which is fine. It's the big hand pointing to 2 which puts me in trouble. Train issues?, asks my Boss while Timbo raises an eyebrow while putting some milk in his bowl of cereals. Yes, I reply with no hesitation, the train was so crowded that I couldn't get in and had to wait for the next one!

Aaah, says the Boss while Timbo's cereals get stuck on his throat triggering a loud cough. That works fine for me as everyone's attention turns to Timbo. For a short while though as I can see the bald jolly clown looking closely to his small white board next to his left monitor which reads 9:15 Managers' meeting. He grabs quickly the yellow sticky notes where I can see his hand written notes and walks to the room 307 followed closely by Charlie.

They both seem happy. Why wouldn't they? They go to the meeting having an agenda to talk about. No achievement for either of them but they can both blame the other team to mask their own poor performance. Just like bosses!