Every office has its unofficial royalty, and at this workplace, Bossy B is unmatched. With the power of job security and the subtlety of a foghorn, she’s carved out a fiefdom where courtesy is outdated as monarchy. If you block her chosen path, prepare for a barked order—never a polite word or a passing excuse me. She has everyone so well-trained that even the boss dodges her path, and coworkers line up to defend her, spinning tales about her “meaning well” as if it excuses her every stomp and scowl.
On an ordinary day, after yet another demand to move his backpack, our early 20s brave worker decides to test an ancient office myth: what happens if you simply ask the office sovereign for a little mutual respect. He floats the idea, suggesting she treat others the same way she expects to be treated. But he concept glances off her like water on oil, and she doubles down on the demand.
So, he tries a more direct approach— asking nicely, just once. Suddenly, the unthinkable occurs. The iron lady, destroyer of basic pleasantries, bursts into tears. Not a small sob—full-blown waterworks, complete with a spontaneous support group appearing at her side.
Taking this as a sign of either apocalypse or high office drama, he lets HR know and then takes a strategic retreat.
In this court, questioning the monarch means risking the wrath of her loyal subjects, especially when the only real crime was hoping for a simple please or thank you.
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