Just Go Already

So there’s this group behind us and they got a new kid, I think his name’s Kevin. (He’s sitting in cute girl’s old cube). Anyway, he’s training this week and next, which really means he gets to cut out of here at like 3:30 every day until he gets his own funds.

Jonathan, the Opie&Anthony fan, is the new manager of that group, and sits next to the new kid, directly behind me. So today, at just about 3:30 the new kid gets up to leave. Pulls on his pullover, starts to sling his backpack onto his shoulder, and Jonathan gets his attention and starts motioning with his hand, pointing down, down, down. The new kid is standing there, on arm holding the backpack like “wha?” So Jonathan stands up and says “Sit down, the big boss,” and here Jonathan motions with his eyes and a little head nod toward the VP, “is right there.”

So you know what, Kevin? Don’t listen to him. You’re done with your work for today, go home. Walk right past the VP on your way to the door. Leaving for the day does not make you look bad. It does not make Jonathan look bad. The VP is not keeping a mental list of people he can lay-off.

I find this situation a little aggravating. This will only come back to haunt you, Jonathan,  if you allow people to express their disapproval in a passive aggressive manner. STOP BUYING INTO THE GAME. Honestly.

Here is what I would do, if I were…
Kevin: I would leave. Screw you Jonathan and your “sit down sit down! gesturing”
Jonathan: I would let Kevin leave
VP: I would not be paying attention to this group, I would continue to work on whatever it is I’m working on that brought me out to the floor. (which, I’d like to point out, is exactly what the VP did – he did not look up once during the whole thing.) He did not look up and glare at someone walking out the door and make a note of his name so he can torment him and underpay him and make his manager’s life miserable for the next few years.

After two minutes Jonathan let the kid leave.

Stupid corporate america.
-t


recommended download:
Dropkick Murphys, Walk Away