When people get together, the conversation often turns to work and the boss. Some supervisors resemble Fezziwig from “A Christmas Carol” while others deserve the nasty names their employees call them behind their backs.

At the age of 12, I entered the work force as a babysitter. It was a nice gig — 50 cents an hour, free pizza and free television.

But I wanted to make real money, so I put in an application at the closest movie theater, The Robert E. Lee in north Baton Rouge. The theater promised all the free popcorn I could eat and paid a princely sum of $1.25 an hour.

This was my first time to work for someone I didn’t know, and Miss Joyce remains one of the most eccentric people I’ve ever met. Every night, she stormed into the theater wearing leather riding boots and a full-length fur coat. She was always accompanied by two rambunctious Doberman Pinschers.

She was also bossy and demanding but she took care of her employees. If we needed the night off, she was accommodating. If a customer was rude to us, she refused to take his side. She might’ve looked like a character from a dime novel, but she made a huge impression on me.

Over the years, I’ve had a variety of bosses, especially as a temporary office worker. After all these years, one assignment remains one of the oddest places I’ve ever worked.

Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, the employees wore purple to work. Every Tuesday and Thursday, they wore gold, all in honor of the LSU Tigers.

At 10 a.m. and 2 p.m., a harsh whistle sounded in the building, and everyone filed outside for a 15-minute smoking break, even if you didn’t smoke.

The supervisor begged me to come back after my original assignment was over. I politely declined and got out of there as fast as I could.

As a secretary in an oil company, I worked for all kinds of men and women. Some were ruthless snakes who’d stop at nothing to get ahead while others were easy going and fair.

Probably the oddest request I ever had in my 10 year-career was when my ultra-conservative boss stuck his head out of his office door and asked me to sew up his pants because he’d ripped them while bending over.

But Dave was attentive to his employees’ needs and never yelled or belittled them. And after all these years in the business world, those are two traits I look for in a good supervisor. I also look for fairness, no matter what his or her personal preferences might be.

A good boss also has a keen sense of humor and isn’t afraid to laugh at him or herself when things are tough. The better bosses compliment their employees for a good job and make sure mistakes are handled so their employees grow, not wither. Great bosses do all that plus they inspire and teach through example.

Bob Haenel is one of those great bosses. Whenever I’m down, he’s encourages me to keep going.

When I think I’ve run out of steam, he assures me I have what it takes to get the job done. Every time I’ve made a mistake, Bob laughingly relates his mistakes and then the matter’s closed.

Bob taught me that ethics aren’t pages in the Associated Press Stylebook. They’re a way of life, and that’s how Bob lives every day.

He honestly believes we’re here to look out for “the little guy.” He loves his family, his dog, his beige sweater, Arby’s roast beef sandwiches and this community.

He’s also taught me a thing or two in the last 15 years — the proper way to eat a tamale, the difference between a stallion and a steer, how to cook a tender pot roast and how to creatively use profanity.

Bob knows the answer to every trivia question about “It’s a Wonderful Life,” the second song on the “James Gang Rides Again” album and he’s the only person I know who worked in a graveyard.

Thank you, Bob, for your down-home, practical advice, your gentle guidance during turbulent and calm times and your unconditional friendship to me and hundreds others.

You’re one in a million, boss. One in a million.

Bob Haenel is a friend to me, my sons, my family and everybody I know. He’s mentored me and taught me more about the newspaper business than anybody else I know. He loves his wife, his sons and his community and he’s one of the good guys. This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.