So, just when I start thinking that the armpit of Corporate America is NOT the firm for which I work, KABLLOOOEY, it blows up in my face! The aftermath which is the stench of decaying old people (which my office does, in fact, reek of on a daily basis).
Our office morale is the lowest it has ever been in my years of employment. We have gone from jovial days of working and playing to drone-like hour-by-hour torture sessions fearing to speak or squeak that we may be struck down by the "man."
Their oh-so-brilliant answer to their steaming employees complaints of ill-tidings?
Fire one of us.
Make an example.
Rule with fear.
"Welcome to Hell, please wipe your feet and leave your morals and values at the door, please."
So, I was called into the conference room today, apparently one of the partners had deemed it necessary to tell me, personally, that my co-worker/friend had been fired/"offered the choice to resign."
Duh. Like I didn't know that.
Yet on and on he droned, like most corporate professionals, he sooo loved the sound of his own voice, and I was forced to sit and stare.
I nodded occasionally, really, I was beyond livid, and I could not stare directly at his clown-inspired multi-colored shirt and tie in fear of an onset of severe nausea.
He then looked at me and said "We want you to continue doing a good job here... You know that Evaluations are coming up."
Oh Good Lord, help me from strangling him with his Krusty the Clown inspired neck tie!
Heaven forbid if I should be deemed "unacceptable" as a receptionist!
What were they going to do to me if my phone answering skills were not up to par? Not acceptable phone ettiquette? Not able to fax things at the speed of light?
Or worse yet, what if I wasn't given a raise? Oh lordy me! Last year I got less than a frickin' quarter. Gee Whiz! Don't take THAT much money away from me! I would be broke! Phoebe would starve! I would have to buy - discount handbags!
Don't think so.
Know what? They can keep their damn quarter this year. They can buy themselves new clothes, ones that don't look like they've been ripped out of the closets of the Ringling Brothers' Barnum and Bailey Circus.
Or at least buy the shoes to match... now THAT would be entertaining...