Can you fly, Bobby?
“Look, I regret that we’ve started to have to look at compulsory redundancies.”
His voice was so fucking calm. Just a layer of false sympathy. It had to be false. This must have been the 8th or 9th group of people he’d given the speech to.
That wasn’t so bad. I mean, it’s a necessity, right? When the company fails it’s because of the individuals in the company making poor choices that ruin it for everyone else. Right? So maybe I made some poor choices, some mistakes and now I’m in the firing line. And that’s fair.
Except it doesn’t feel fair. It doesn’t feel fucking fair at all because I’ve put my best work into this place. I know I have. And this slick grey bastard is coming in and the whole thing is crashing down around my fucking ears.
I’ve not been listening though. I’ve been angry again. I know I shouldn’t be – I should be calm, zen and cool. Try to respond with the appropriate demeanour that shows that I’ve got options. That makes it look like this isn’t a setback, just a stepping stone on to something better. But I just want to push his stupid false face in. Bastard.
2 pints at lunch probably hasn’t helped.
He’s talking through the technicalities now. Apparently this group that I’m stood in are all up for redundancy. Balls.
I see Helen’s started crying. That won’t help. Goddamn it.
What am I going to do? Re-train? Be a plumber? I don’t know. Something that doesn’t use up all my savings. Which basically means something that won’t take a month.
Shit it all.
Ah, never mind. I can always go back to working nights in the Frog and Parrot.
I might push that cunt out of the office window first though.