5.5

I knew it was going to be a surreal day when I came out of the subway at 14th street two days ago. There were two men sat on the curb, an older Indian man and a younger white guy with a beard. The Indian man was reading the white guy's palm. I stopped for a second and wondered if I should go have my palm read too. I didn't for many reasons, not the least of which is I prefer not knowing what's around the corner for me. Call me kooky, but it's just the way I roll. HOWEVER, had I stopped and asked him to take a look, I might have turned around and gone on back home.
There was a series of meetings set up for us: the first was to tell us that in five and a half months some of us would have no jobs, some of us would be relocated to another state and others of us will have our duties shifted.
Can you guess which group I was in?
I was told to go to another smaller meeting with a few other of my co-workers which was being held in a giant conference room. In retro, I'm thinking that maybe they felt that it would give them ample time to run and hide should someone decide to go postal.
I digress.
When we get into the room there was a bullshit plate of cookies and fruit sitting on the side, I walked past it but there was a woman, apparently from our HR Department, that I had never seen before who chirps "Have a cookie!" like she was Betty effing Crocker and was so proud of them. Maybe she was hoping to mask the knifing we were about to receive, I have no idea. Turns out we were all told that at the end of five and a half months we would no longer be employed by this company.
You could have heard a rat fart on 8th Avenue.
It was strange.
We were then informed that we would all have individual meetings with HR Reps about our options or whatever, which is stupid, because why do you care what I'm going to do next? Are you going to give me money to leave? Yeah? Good, you can keep the platitudes and the offers of 2-day seminars.
What kills me is this was done and then we are requested to stay and actually care about what we did. Really? Can you ask me that with a straight face?
To be completely honest I wish I could be as sad as all that. I'm not. I like my job, yes, but not because I like doing it. I like the people. Some way more than others, obviously, and I will miss running into them in the hallways or on the street at lunchtime, but life goes on, you leave your friends, you make new ones, the old ones that are true blue tend to stick around...
I'd actually thank my soon-to-be-former company for kicking me in the ass, it's giving me the chance to see what I'm truly made of, but I'm not. I'm going to thank the people I've met along the way for the friendships and kindnesses they've visited upon me. I know we are all going to come out of this all right...despite the sneaky ways and dark deeds of those who would have it any other way.



Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net