The Day Writinggal got Written off

Five years ago yesterday I lost my job. I got the boot. The pink slip. The “we no longer require your services” letter. I really should have seen it coming…but I didn’t.

The ad agency I was working for had been having layoffs for the last year. Sometimes they would have big cuts where they would hire extra security people to escort employees out of the building. Every day when I would walk into the building that year I half-expected to be leaving with an armed man in a few hours. Really. When I would walk up the stairs to my cube I would think, “Well, this may be the last time I walk up these stairs…”

But I just kept dodging it. During one particularly bloody round of lay offs several of my friends were let go. I was in my cube just bawling like an idiot and everyone thought I had been laid off. I worked closely with about thirteen other people and that day I think we lost a handful. Yep, we lost some good men.

That summer we lost more. Sure, some people just left on their own but others got the “whispering” lay off. That means that someone in authority came to them and said, “Psst…don’t tell anyone but you’re not going to work here in two more weeks” or “Hey, just to let you know…you’re only going to walk up those stairs seventeen more times. Don’t make a scene.” I got teary-eyed every time I saw people trickle out the door. The place was starting to look like a ghost town.

By the end of the summer the only people left on the team were me and my supervisor, Chris. Soon he even got a whisper: “We’re gonna let you go in a month.” He told them, “Fine. I’m going to use the rest of my vacation and go to Europe.”

When he returned they didn’t tell him to officially leave so he just kept working there. We both just carried on like normal. I even got a promotion. I figured the lay-off life was over.

But just when I had finished moving my multi-colored file folders to my bigger cube, Sept. 11th hit. They announced there would be more layoffs.

I asked Chris who he thought would get he ax. “Well me, obviously,” he said. “They already told me I was going to be laid off a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “But that would mean I’d be left running an account that used to be run by fourteen people by myself. And I don’t know anything so that would be weird.”

So five years ago yesterday “they” called Chris into “their” office. “What a bummer,” I thought. “And it’s his birthday!”

When Chris came out he looked somber. I said, “So…what happened? Did they tell you to officially leave?” I had already been eyeing his cube. He shook his head and said, “Not me.”

“ME?!!!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought for sure it would be me.”

Instead of crying or even feeling a little sad, I actually felt relieved. I mean, I had been worrying about this for a year. I could finally move on. Plus, it was still early in the day—I could leave and still get paid!
“Well, I guess I have the rest of the day off! I’m gonna see what’s on Oprah,” I said.

“Um, actually, they want you to stay through tomorrow and finish up your work,” he said.

Nice.

I had to go meet with HR and they gave me this letter and told me to sign it. The lady said, “Just sign here. It says that you understand that we won’t be requiring your services anymore.”

That’s when I got a little verklempt:

“That’s not true!” I exclaimed. “You DO need my services.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused by my outburst.

“Well, you’re making me come back tomorrow, aren’t you? You obviously need my services! This place won’t last without me!”

“Nonetheless,” she said calmly. “We still need you to sign this.”

It was all so unfair. I got laid off. I caused a scene. I didn't get a security escort to my car.

And I still had to climb those damn stairs!