This. Is. Awkward.
The other day at work I was standing at the fax machine (doing the Ed Lover Dance) and taking an informal poll of who was attending the after work bowling party. The bowling party was scheduled after work hours on a Friday evening. Which meant three things, (1) I wouldn’t get paid for attending, (2) only people who don’t have lives were going and (3) apparently everyone else in the office leads a more exciting life than I do.
The office fax machine is stationed next to one of the manager’s cubicles, namely our New Manager Lady who no one gets along with because she makes people cry. I could hear her making a ruckus in her cubicle doing whatever it is that our managers do (mostly a lot of looking stern and carrying pieces of paper from one end of the office to the other).
I popped my head over the cube wall and said, “Hey, New Manager Lady, are you going to the bowling party? Only like three people are going. I’ll totally be there because I don’t have a life and bowling with my coworkers will probably be the most exciting thing I’ll do this month.”
“No, I’m not going bowling,” she said with a very serious face. I noticed that she was looking tanner than usual; don’t really know what’s up with that.
“Really? That sucks,” the bosses in the office, showing the extreme level of leadership that they were known for, decided that they were too important to mingle with the office peasants.
“I’m not going bowling because I no longer work here,” said New Manager Lady.
This. Is. Awkward.
Apparently the ruckus she was making in her cube was the sounds of all her desk photos going into a box. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Huh?”
“I’ve been fired.”
“That sucks,” I said trying to sound empathetic while working out the best exit strategy for this situation. My brain flooded with information. All the synapses firing at once. Do I stand her and ask her about it? Does she need someone to talk to? How does this affect me and my role in the company? Is she going to come back to the office fully armed? I decided that I couldn't worry about that and that I needed to escape this conversation and pronto. With no other option: I made a run for it.
The rest of the day was spent being uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact and watching her pack out of the corner of my eye. Eventually she trucked all her stuff out of the office and was never seen again.
At the bowling party I bowled a 160. Further evidence to how much I rule.
The office fax machine is stationed next to one of the manager’s cubicles, namely our New Manager Lady who no one gets along with because she makes people cry. I could hear her making a ruckus in her cubicle doing whatever it is that our managers do (mostly a lot of looking stern and carrying pieces of paper from one end of the office to the other).
I popped my head over the cube wall and said, “Hey, New Manager Lady, are you going to the bowling party? Only like three people are going. I’ll totally be there because I don’t have a life and bowling with my coworkers will probably be the most exciting thing I’ll do this month.”
“No, I’m not going bowling,” she said with a very serious face. I noticed that she was looking tanner than usual; don’t really know what’s up with that.
“Really? That sucks,” the bosses in the office, showing the extreme level of leadership that they were known for, decided that they were too important to mingle with the office peasants.
“I’m not going bowling because I no longer work here,” said New Manager Lady.
This. Is. Awkward.
Apparently the ruckus she was making in her cube was the sounds of all her desk photos going into a box. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Huh?”
“I’ve been fired.”
“That sucks,” I said trying to sound empathetic while working out the best exit strategy for this situation. My brain flooded with information. All the synapses firing at once. Do I stand her and ask her about it? Does she need someone to talk to? How does this affect me and my role in the company? Is she going to come back to the office fully armed? I decided that I couldn't worry about that and that I needed to escape this conversation and pronto. With no other option: I made a run for it.
The rest of the day was spent being uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact and watching her pack out of the corner of my eye. Eventually she trucked all her stuff out of the office and was never seen again.
At the bowling party I bowled a 160. Further evidence to how much I rule.
posted by A. Jonathan Cox at 9:02 AM
1 Comments:
This is why good HR people NEVER let someone pack up alone if they've been fired.
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