"I don't want Tim to think I'm going over his head," I said to the Boss as I went over Tim's head and complained about him. It didn't exactly start out that way, but I was in a mood to complain and the Boss was the person I just happened to call.
"I should really take this up with him," I said, although I've asked and whined and pleaded for Tim to get me the time cards earlier in the week, so that I don't have to work around his whims. He wants the paychecks mailed Wednesday morning. If he had any good reason to wait until Wednesday morning to fax me the time cards, I wouldn't be as cheesed off about it. (I said that to the Boss as well.)
"I have no leverage to use against him," I said, when the Boss suggested I just mail the paychecks a day later. If the paychecks arrive late, Tim doesn't care. He has so much money that he saves his checks for two or three weeks before cashing them. It's the members of his crew, who make a third of what he makes and live from week to week, that would suffer if the checks were late. Then he'd just lend them money, and I'd have to do all the extra paperwork that would allow me to reimburse him. More work for me. No leverage.
"I don't mean to get you involved in this." Well, I think I meant that. But if I did, why did I bring it up? It was the frustration, mostly. I had to let it out, and the Boss was handy. My relationship with Tim would be better handled if I made my complaints directly, even if they're totally ineffective. At least the Boss promised to keep the hammer in his holster and use his patented feathery soft diplomatic skills when he brings the subject up.