There are a few clubs I have yet to join in my life, clubs that no one’s really excited about entering. For example, I’ve never had a UTI, I’ve never dealt with major credit card fraud and I’ve never been kicked out of a restaurant.* Unfortunately I joined a new club yesterday.
I can now say I have been fired from a job.
I noticed first, not the financial stress, not even the injustice, but the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I suppose it was pride, gurgling deep down, wanting to defend itself, and tell the world I’m not the type who gets fired.
But this event in my life is just like the wrinkle I’ve watched form on the left side of my mouth: it’s happened and I can’t change it. I’m going to have to see the good in it. For the wrinkle it’s noticing that my smile is a bit crooked and I rather like it. For this incident it’s realizing that I hated my boss and my job and that I needed to get out.
This time the universe made the decision for me.
I started working at this business in January and was promoted to manager in March. The owner, we’ll call him Slimer, always read a bit passive aggressive to me, but having been on his good side I didn’t see how bad it really was.
He has spent the last few months lying and making false promises, complaining about progress he continuously limits and confessing his undying dedication to his clients and employees while simultaneously ignoring their needs. He refers to me with a diminunitive “Miss” in front of my first name, grins when I’m trying to make a serious argument and stands so close to me I can feel him breathe, despite my requests that he back up. The stress from this job sent me four different doctors and put me on two different prescription medications.
Yesterday morning I was served with a termination letter and Slimer and I spent nearly an hour talking.
I asked why. He talked for ten minutes anout the general business model and failed to answer the question. I said, yes sure all good points but why. He explained that big changes are coming. I said cool story bro but tell me why you are firing me. In the end I didn’t get a reason.
After telling him not to sugar coat it, reminding him I’ve never had any negative incidents or bad evaluations (in fact I’ve never had any evaluations), and finally asking if he blames me for the business’ low numbers, all I got was “we’re making some big changes” and “I don’t blame you for the business.”
Blaming someone and then covering it up by saying “I’m not blaming you” feels a lot like screaming “I’m not stabbing you!” while stabbing someone repeatedly.
The good news is threefold;
- Higher ups in the business (this is a franchise) called me afterward and not only apologized and said he was out of line, but openly offered themselves as a reference.
- I have another job lined up for Monday that pays better and is in my field. Oh and I’m going to an Ivy League school in two months and this jobs was a holdover.
- My coworkers are a amazing bunch of human beings who made the time I did work there fantastic.
So I’m chalking this one up to the universe saying “enough” and making the decision to end m employment for me. The only crappy thing about it is that I was going to quit on Monday. I hate losing the element of control. But I suppose if Slimer didn’t see my worth yesterday he wouldn’t have seen it on Monday either.
Dearest readers, there is one thing I want to share with you if you get nothing else from this; sometimes dumb things happen and they make you feel terrible. Sometimes bad people make choices that hurt those who are not to blame. Sometimes shit goes down and you get fired. But, no matter what, you are a beautiful little cinnamon roll and it will all be just fine.
Best of luck.
*Restaurant, no. Bar…