You May Call Me Mrs V

You may call me Mrs. V the woman told new workers. I am the manager, so I manage what you do. She is also an overseer, and a micro-manager, someone whispered. She gave that man a mean nasty I-wish-you-would-die look. There was a bit of tittering, some smirks, one tiny giggle. I tried to not get involved in any of this, I needed this job. I supervise you every day, she told us. So be on your toes. The man said something else and some people giggled. I had no idea what it was, but I was glad I had not heard. After the meeting I inquired about the man who dared. He is her husband, I was told. He likes to rile her during meetings. I could tell by her face that his life would not be lovely tonight.