You’re Not the Boss of Me

Before moving to New York, I had never been called “boss” by anyone. Then again, before moving to New York, I never had a full-time job, so nobody had any reason to call me “boss.” But at places where I’m not the “boss” – like bodegas, delis, and streetcarts – I find myself being called the “boss” all the time.

Every time I get lunch from the falafel cart downstairs from my office, I am called “boss”:

“How’s it going, boss?”

“What would you like, boss?”

“Here you go, boss.”

“Have a good one, boss.”

tony_danza-300x380.jpgWhy am I the boss? You run the cart, you’re the boss of yourself. If anything, you boss me around. You tell me when to order, how much to pay, and I pay you. Much like a real boss, you make meaningless awkward small-talk with me about my weekend. But I never boss you around. Quite often, you put hot sauce on my platter when I only want white sauce. You call the shots, not me.

In fact, since I’ve never been in a hiring situation, I’ve never known anyone who could possibly call me “boss.” You can’t mistake me for any boss, really. I don’t bear a resemblance to John Gotti. I’m not a giant green lizard hovering on a bridge over lava, like Bowser. I’ve never said, “yeeah, if you could go ahead and get me a gyro platter, that would be grreat.” And I don’t believe I ever ran Tammany Hall in the 1860s.

I’ve been told I look sort of like Tony Danza, so maybe that could be it. But I’m no “boss.” Maybe next time I’ll greet the Falafel Cart Guy by saying, “Yo! Angela!”



Filed under Life in NYC

6 responses to “You’re Not the Boss of Me

  1. my guy called me lady.

    the pizza guys called me mamii.

    boss sounds good.

  2. janbee88

    Interesting. I’ve been called “mamma.” Which is just silly, because I’m not a mamma, and certainly not theirs.

  3. rebecca

    no, you should greet him by yelling “MOONNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

  4. Yeah, you do kinda have a Tony Danza thing going on…SAMANTA???

  5. If you knew Alyssa Milano, though, I’d be your new best friend.

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