or
Retaining an Appearance of Professionalism While Getting Fired
A
Short Narrative by Michael W. Haynes
Note:
In March of 2012 I was "let go" at my place of employment. In May of
2012 I found new employment. Those two months were a roller-coaster of
emotions for my wife
and I. The following narrative is an artistic and embellished account of
my experience at the beginning of this life changing experience. Stay
tuned...
Part One: Mantra
I’m not quite sure
how to describe it. I suppose it’s like standing under the
metaphorical black cloud, knowing that lightning is going to strike
at any moment, but not knowing when. And when it finally does strike,
it’s no surprise, but the shock is just as powerful and
devastating.
(Kaboom!)
The lightning had
just struck. A_____ was the HR Legal Counsel, and as far as my job
was concerned, Death had just rung the front door bell.
I answered with my
usual professional tone, “Good morning. This is Mike,” as the
carpeting on the floor shriveled away and cracks formed beneath my
shaking feet.
“Hi Mike. Could
you come down to the second floor HR office for a moment? We need to
speak with you.”
“Sure. I’ll be
right down.” I kept my tone pleasant, upbeat and professional. My
feet were numb, and my heart was trying to burst out of my chest. I
put down the receiver slowly. “Well D_____, this is my last cup of
coffee here.”
“What do you
mean?” D_____ was a contractor who hadn’t been around long enough
to understand what a call from A_____ meant to a regular employee.
“The HR Legal Rep
wants to talk to me.”
“Oh?”
“Yup. My job here
is over. A_____ is the unfortunate person who has to be involved in
anyone’s dismissal,” I explained as we headed toward the coffee
pot. My voice was still steady, and I was “matter-of-fact.” My
composure was rock solid, but the room was shaking, the cracks in the
floor under my feet were growing wider, and it was all I could do to
hold on to my coffee mug.
“Maybe it’s
something else.” He offered hopefully.
“Nope,” I poured
my last cup of coffee as calmly as I could. “If it was something
else, she would have told me what the ‘something else’ was. I’d
better get going. I don’t want to keep them waiting.” I set the
coffee pot down gently.
“What? They’re
about to let you go, and you’re worried about keeping them
waiting?” He asked incredulously.
I laughed at that.
“Yeah, just simple human courtesy, I suppose. I can’t imagine
that they’re actually looking forward to this any more than I am.”
“You’re a bigger
man than me.”
“Don’t be so
sure!” I joked, “I haven’t faced them yet!” The floor was
falling out from under me now, and the walls had begun crumbling away
by the time I had reached the elevator.
I stepped inside the
elevator and turned. The doors slowly closed in solemn silence, and I
felt oddly safe and secure in that small, confined space. “Nothing
can touch me here.” In that brief moment of serenity a mantra
formed and started echoing in my head, “professional; upbeat; no
sob story; no complaining; no yelling; no tears.”
Part Two:
Attitude
“Breathe.”
I reminded myself as the doors opened onto the second floor. Only
there was no floor; no walls; just darkness. All that was left by now
was a withered, narrow crag that led to a lonely, stone bunker in the
distance. The harsh, cold, buffeting wind nearly knocked me down, but
I strove forward. “The only way out is through,” I told
myself, “Breathe!”
The door to the
cramped bunker opened with a sad, whimpering sigh. The damp, stone
walls glistened in the primitive torchlight. G_____, our CIO, looked
up at me with a somber look on his face. The pale, flickering light
accented the lines of dread that crossed his brow, and A_____ stood just
to my right with her hands folded in front of her... She glanced at me
and managed a weak smile.
(Breathe!)
“Ah!” I
exclaimed in mock surprise, “I’m glad I grabbed some coffee
first!”
(Steady…)
G_____ replied with
a sad half smile, “Yes Mike. I guess you know why we asked you
here.”
“Yes, I assumed as
much.” I replied softly, sitting down and taking a sip of coffee.
The torchlight
dimmed as the air became heavier. I could feel the entire room
quaking uneasily. I was hoping that the
“honest-sincere-and-professional” mask that I had put on just
before I entered was doing its job, because my feet had just melted
to the floor, and my hands had become shackled to the table in front
of me. I was paralyzed. Then as G_____ spoke, everything else around
me blurred, and all I could hear was the rushing of my own blood
flowing through my ears.
(Oh shit! This is
really happening!)
I kept my mask on,
nodding my head politely as if I could actually hear and comprehend
what he was saying to me.
(Breathe! Breathe
Damn it! Look him in the eyes! Keep that goddamn mask on! No fucking tears
now! Damn it!)
“…So I’m sorry
it has to be this way,” he concluded. “A_____ will cover the
details of your transition and will have some papers for you to sign
before you go.”
(“Transition!”
Is that what they fucking call this now?)
He stood up and
started briskly for the door.
(Get up! Get on
your feet man! Say something positive, and shake his hand! Damn it!
Let that son of a bitch know that he just fired a real professional! )
I felt my body stand
and step toward him. (Did he just flinch?) I saw my hand reach
out and grasp his in a firm handshake. My lips started moving, “I’m
grateful for the time I have worked here, and I’m proud to have
been a part of such a talented team that has contributed so much to the
company’s growth.” (Wow! This is pouring out of me like syrup!)
“I wish you all the best and look forward to reading great things
about the company in the future!”
(Bull’s-eye!)
He blinked. His
mouth opened. Then it closed again. Then it opened and he stammered,
“Wow! You have a great attitude!” He then turned and hurried out
the door.
Part Three:
Things I Need to Do
I sat down again as
A_____ began explaining what would be happening next, severance
package terms and continued insurance coverage, etc. Reality began
to slowly fade back in. First the carpeted floor reappeared beneath
my feet. The stone walls were replaced with finely finished drywall,
some nice prints adorned the room, and lastly, the primitive torches
were replaced with soft, fluorescent lighting.
My feet became
unglued from the floor, the shackles had fallen from my hands, and I
could speak again. A sense of purpose and resolve rushed over me. My
job was gone, but I was still here. I was still a professional, and I
could still accomplish any goal I set my mind to.
(Holy shit! What
a trip that was!)
I looked excitedly
over at A_____, “So, can I get my stuff from my desk now? I’ve
just lost my job and I’ve got things I need to do!”
