Pink Slip Party
Chapter One
I think if someone fires you, they should have
the decency to do it in person. My boss, lower
than vermin on the food chain, was too chicken
to actually tell me. Instead, I found out via
email.
It's not like I would have wanted a show of
tears and prostrated apologies (although these
would have been nice). I just wanted a minimum
level of decency. Personally, I'd prefer a
twenty-one-gun salute, but that's just me. My
dad always says I have an over-inflated sense of
my place in the world.
Three days ago, on the day after Valentine's
Day, I was part of a massive layoff of 1,000
employees from my company (an office supplier
that manufactures pink slips). The irony here is
not lost on me. Technically, we print office
supplies - your blue phone-message pads, your
Post-it notes. I worked in design and
development on such riveting projects as
redesigning "While You Were Out" notes and
writing instructions for the backs of correction
fluid jars.
On my last day of work, my boss (is it wrong
that I wake up and hope daily he's reincarnated
one day as toe fungus?), a bald, corpulent,
smel ... read full excerpt from Pink Slip Party ebook
