I was working for a married man who certainly did not act married. One day, his wife came into the office, demanding that I phone him. When I did, he murmured, “Do not move a muscle. She’s got a fiery temper.”

I wasn’t sure why I had to stay motionless; I hadn’t done anything wrong. But he certainly had. “Get rid of her!” he shouted, his voice shaking. “She has a temper, remember.”

“I understand, sir,” I answered quietly, putting the phone down. He could see us via his office window, but not the left side of my desk, so I did something he wouldn’t expect. I slid her a paper with his mistress’ name scribbled on it. They divorced, and I got fired. Worth it.