The Sonia Show

Writer. Mocker. Beer drinker. Old movie watcher. Mother. Goober.

You are not the boss of me


Yeah, so, I went to a friend’s wedding reception on Saturday. This reception was filled with old friends and former newspaper coworkers that I haven’t seen in a while. It was great to see everyone … Well, almost everyone.

You see, my old boss was at this party as well. I figured I would just steer clear of him. There were quite a few people at the party. It shouldn’t be too difficult to avoid one douche, right?


I was talking to someone when he came up to me. He put his hand on my back, and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say congratulations to you, Sonia, on your wedding.”

Ewwww. He’s trying to take the high road with me!

“How dare you touch me and speak to me! You were a terrible boss, who treated me so unfairly. You yelled at me in front of the entire office until I started crying and ran out of the office. I still have anxiety dreams about working in that office and that was four years ago!  The last few weeks I worked there I had to take Xanax to get through the day because I was having panic attacks. I worked my ass off at that place. I tried to handle all the stress with grace and good humor, and you rewarded it by denying me raises, paying my male counterparts more than me and bringing me to tears and embarrassing me in front of coworkers. Not only were you a shitty boss, you are a bad person.”

That’s what I wanted to say, but it came out as “Thanks.”

I’d love to say that I was also taking the high road, trying to be on good behavior so as not to make things awkward for everyone at the party. But, the truth is he came over to me, and I completely shut down. I turned into a robot. “Thanks” was all I could say. And this happened, twice. Yes, twice he came over to me and tried to talk to me. Both times, I said a polite “Thanks” and before a friend saw what was happening and intervened so I could get away.

Part of me is disappointed in myself for not letting him have it. Another part of me knows that was not the place for it. Either way, I went home and did this.


Author: The Sonia Show

I'm a writer/mocker/goober/mother in San Francisco who likes to drink beer, shop, laugh and make other people laugh, podcast, watch old movies, feed my unhealthy obsession with pop culture, kick breast cancer's ass, wear orange and root for the San Francisco Giants, participate in general jackass-ery, talk about TV, eavesdrop on strangers' conversations, make nerdy “Star Wars” and “Simpsons” references, and post personal things about myself on the web for all to read, which makes me some sort of literary exhibitionist.

8 thoughts on “You are not the boss of me

  1. Anyone I know?

    • Yes!

      I think that people think because I had cancer that I have some sort of inner peace, that I take the high road and all is forgiven. When, in fact, I’m still the nervous, petty smart ass I always was.

  2. Socially awkward people—Unite! Oh, wait…

    I hate that situation. Manners do matter, though, especially when you’re among others.

  3. Sonia, you always have my permision to make things “Awkward” in my presence. We know who you are! Clearly that guy needs to! Next time… Let ‘er rip! And don’t apologize to anyone for it!


  4. I know I did the right thing by being polite. I can’t guarantee that I will be that polite next time, though.

  5. I think your ex-boss and my ex-boss need to get together and go bowling. They can discuss how harrassing their female employees make them feel better about their tiny penises and general incompetence. 🙂

  6. Update: About a week after I wrote this blog post, this happened:

    He “resigned.” Yeah … “resigned.” And I love the photo that the SF Appeal chose to run with the story. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

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