I used to sell construction projects, and one of my customers was a big, red-haired country boy who worked for Figgie International. Old Man Figgie was a live wire, famous for being very domineering, demanding, bombastic, and controlling. He was named one of Fortune 500’s toughest bosses. He would curse people, making girls cry. The stories I heard about him were just nightmarish. He had a Hall of Shame book, where the entire company could see his employees’ mistakes.

A hugely successful businessman, the guy started with nothing and created an empire. My hat’s off to him, but he was pretty abusive. All of my customers who had worked for him had told me horror stories, so I asked this country boy how it went working for Figgie. “Great” he said. “I don’t have any problems.” “Really?” I asked. “Everyone else does.”
“Not me. The day I interviewed for the job, Figgie told me, ‘I’d like to hire you, I think we can work together.’ I said that I’d take the job, but under one condition. Figgie asked me what it was, and I told him, ‘Your reputation precedes you a little bit, and I want you to know that the day you curse me or raise your voice to me or demean me in any way, I’m going to come across that desk and stomp a mud hole in your face that you’ll never forget.’ He looked at me and said, ‘I can’t believe you talked to me like that!’ I told him, ‘That’s the rules of my working for you. Take it or leave it’.”
Figgie gave him the job. They worked together for years, and he never had a problem (or, the tyrant never gave him a problem).
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