Thinking about the new site, eBossWatch, brings to mind an experience I had a few years ago while job-hunting. By knowing the former assistant of my prospective new boss well enough for her to be really straight with me, I escaped what could have been a livelihood-threatening fiasco.

I was living in a small-ish Louisiana town and facing divorce. I needed more money, or at least better benefits, than I was ever going to get in my then-current position. So, even though I adored my boss, I started answering “legal assistant/secretary-wanted” ads and, heart heavy with guilt, going on interviews.

Because of the “small-town effect” and the nature of the position I held back then, I was moderately well-known among the local bar. Interviews went great. I could have gotten a job pretty much anywhere I wanted, but the salary/benefit package I needed was another story.

Finally, I was offered what I thought was a reasonable compromise: a position with one of the town’s leading firms that paid the same but included fully-paid family health coverage, along with some other nice perks.

Only one little thing nagged at me: I had interviewed with the firm administrator, a cordial fellow who reminded me, in both looks and manner, of Tom Hanks. I had interviewed with two of the firm’s partners. But I hadn’t interviewed with “Ned,” the lawyer for whom I would be working. I was told that they had told Ned about me and, because he knew of me already, he had given the green light and didn’t need to interview me.

Once I got over feeling flattered that I was such a shoe-in, reality began to creep up. My one in-person encounter with this lawyer who had just offered to hire me was about two minutes during the previous year, when he had visited the office where I worked. He came for a document review, and I ushered him into the library and gave him the files he needed. So, based on this, Ned knew he wanted me as his assistant?

Well, yeah, I’m good. But I might not be that good. And besides, what if I wanted to interview him before giving him control over nearly a third of my life for the foreseeable future?

Then I remembered: I once worked with a former assistant of Ned’s. “Lynelle” and I had been friendly once but had lost touch. I called her at work, explained that Ned wanted to hire me, and asked what it was like to work with him.

Lynelle hesitated, then said something to the effect that things were fine and dandy but that she just got weary of being the only staff member. (Ned had been a solo when she worked for him). I knew she was holding out on me, but what could I do? I thanked her and hung up.

Five minutes later, my phone rang. “I don’t really talk about this,” Lynelle said, “but I can’t let you go to work for Ned without knowing the truth.”

The things she said next sent chills up my spine. Lynelle’s first few months working for Ned had been great. He treated her like a friend, even invited her and her husband to his home for dinner.

Then, one day, out of the blue, Ned propositioned Lynelle. He did it politely, even discreetly. He didn’t chase her around the desk, pat her behind, or make crude jokes. But there was no mistaking his intent. When she didn’t respond in the affirmative, their friendly relations ended, and Ned was basically in a bad mood all day, every day, for the next four years.

To add insult to injury, Ned began cheating on his wife (with someone a bit less convenient than his assistant), and Lynelle found herself embroiled in the triangle of Ned, Mrs. Ned, and . . . Ms. Ned. Mrs. Ned wanted to know who Ms. Ned was, and Ms. Ned wanted Lynelle to tell Mrs. Ned about her so that Ned would be forced to choose.

Why Lynelle stayed four years in that situation, I’m not sure. If I’d been told this story by someone I didn’t know well, I might have had trouble believing it. But I knew Lynelle wasn’t one to cry wolf. If she said she’d been sexually harassed and then expected to cover for her cheating boss, then I didn’t doubt for a minute that she had.

That same day, I called the kindly Mr. Hanks and told him I’d decided not to leave my current position after all. He tried to change my mind and seemed to know there was something I wasn’t telling him. But I kept to my story. Lynelle wasn’t the only one who knew how to be discreet.

The moral of the story: Get over to eBossWatch and anonymously review your current and past bosses. If you have only good things to say, then you might just provide some welcome reassurance to another legal secretary. But if warnings are in order, that’s even more important.