Some managers would rather pummel their employees with busywork than give up control.

So when a part-time server’s micromanaging boss demanded she make a seed-covered alley “spotless” on a gusty day, she committed to the task with almost heroic obedience.

But when the boss finally picked up the broom himself, he realized just how foolish he really was.

Keep reading for the full story.

Sweep the Side Alley Until it’s Spotless? You Got it, Boss.

A couple of summers ago, I took a part-time job as a server at a local pub/restaurant.

I had a full-time job, so this was just for experience and to pick up some tip money on the side.

The boss made the job quite difficult.

My new boss Gary was… well… not great.

Gary’s favorite saying was, “If you have time to lean, you have time to clean.”

He thought if we took even a second to catch our breath, he was losing money from us “slacking off.”

Gary’s favorite thing to do was to assign the most menial tasks possible.

On slow days, he would find menial, pointless tasks for us to complete.

Wipe the bar counter (even though it’s been wiped three times in the past half hour already), reorganize the menus (even though they’re already perfectly organized), fill up more condiment cups (even though there are already fifty salsa cups ready to go).

The most tedious task, especially in the early months of the summer, was sweeping the side alley that leads to the patio.

This proved to be quite the impossible task.

There were these massive maple trees along the path, and they would drop leaves and seeds like crazy, especially on windy days.

One afternoon in early June, there were only a handful of us working.

It gets slow, and I get assigned the sweeping task.

I sweep up the back alleyway as much as I can, but the wind is blowing and the trees just keep dumping more and more seeds onto the path.

All the while, much more lucrative serving work was passing him by.

I do my best, until a coworker calls me back inside to help serve tables—she didn’t want me missing out on tips, bless her.

I seat the table, get their orders, and start entering them in.

But Gary wasn’t going to let this slide.

Just then, Gary storms up to me.

Gary: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Entering table 15’s order. Why?”

Gary: “The side alley is a mess. I don’t pay you to slack off.”

The employee pleads his case, but Gary won’t listen.

Me: “I swept up as much as I could before this table walked in. It’s a really windy day—that’s why it keeps getting full of leaves and seeds. You’re more than welcome to check the compost bin for how much I actually did sweep up.”

Gary: “No. We don’t finish things halfway here. You’re going back out there and finishing your job. I want it to be spotless. Linda (not her real name) can take table 15.”

Gary then switched table 15 from my account to Linda (an older server)’s account.

Luckily, Linda had his back, so he decided to execute a genius malicious compliance plot.

Linda: “I’ll hang onto your share of the tips. Best not to make Gary angry.”

Me: “He really wants me to make it spotless—does he know how impossible that is? I’d have to be out there all shift.”

That’s when Linda gave me a smile, and the lightbulb turned on in my head.

I still had two hours left in my shift, and it was going to be right into dinner rush.

I grabbed the broom and dustpan, and got to work.

I would sweep as much as I could, but every so often, another strong breeze would come by and hundreds more helicopter seeds would flutter to the ground.

But the server just kept at it while the restaurant grew busier and busier.

I kept going.

At this point, it started to get busier. A lineup soon began to form out the door.

Linda was taking care of tables, but very soon it became clear that the other servers needed someone else to deal with everyone.

Linda let them know what was up, and most of them, who tolerated Gary at best and hated him at worst, understood.

The task continued to drag on and on until Gary finally noticed.

I kept on sweeping.

Like Sisyphus and the boulder, the task was never-ending. I scooped up pile after pile after pile of leaves and seeds, to no avail.

After 45 minutes or so, the side door opened suddenly, revealing a red-faced Gary.

Gary: “Why aren’t you in there serving customers?”

Me: gestures at the alleyway

Then the wind had the best timing.

As if the gods themselves had heard the malicious compliance brewing, another strong breeze shook more seeds onto the partially cleared alley, right in front of Gary’s face.

The look on his face was priceless.

Finally, Gary gave in to the inevitable.

He told me, in a quieter voice, to get back inside and start taking orders.

I handed the broom off to him, and he began to sweep. And sweep. And sweep.

The other servers and I had a good laugh about it inside, and I managed to make decent tips that night.

Gary realized he couldn’t exactly fire me for following his orders perfectly, and ended up being more relaxed about the side alley.

Everything seemed to all work out in the end.

No one really cares about some leaves and seeds on the ground, so long as they’re not obstructing anyone.

I ended up working there for the rest of the summer before quitting.

I hear the pub had to be passed on to new owners after Gary’s disorganization got the better of him.

And even better, Gary seemed to finally learn his lesson.

My next shift, I found a broken broom in the garbage.

I’d like to think it was the work of Gary, red in the face and exhausted from battling against Mother Nature.

Sometimes, to understand, the boss has to feel the struggle firsthand.

What did Reddit think?

This type of boss feels all too familiar for this reader.

This commenter has a hot tip.

When will bosses learn it actually benefits them to listen to their employees?

Gary wanted a spotless alley, and he got a personal battle with a maple tree instead.

Turns out, you can’t micromanage the wind!

If you liked this post, check out this story about an employee who got revenge on a co-worker who kept grading their work suspiciously low.