I’m getting fired. I know it, but my boss hasn’t told me yet. But I know it. I can’t say how, because the way I found out was (REDACTED), and people who know me through work read this web site. You people will soon not know me through work. Maybe you will know me as a human being.
Anyway, I’m getting fired. I got tipped off when the H.R. lady for the large corporation– fuck it, I’ll just say it, who cares now. I work for a production company that has what’s called a “term deal” at (REDACTED), the studio, not the network that you’ve actually heard of and is what any sane person would assume you mean when you say “(REDACTED)”– this is why I fucking hate show business, having to explain this god damn shit to people at parties– anyway, my boss gets a chunk of money to have an office at (REDACTED) and in return all the TV shows we make have to get underwritten by (REDACTED), the studio.
I knew when the lady from (REDACTED) corporate H.R. was calling for my boss. And he didn’t want to take the call when I was there. A couple times she called, meaning, he had called her back. There is no other call he would ever make himself, when I wasn’t around. It means he’s firing me. He shut his door and was talking to her. He is an idiot, which means, he does not know that everyone in the entire building can hear every word of every call he’s on when both doors of his office are closed. It causes maybe a ten per cent reduction in the noise he’s making, closing these hollow-core doors that resonate like tympanis. I would have brought it up to him but then he would have made me get into a long involved struggle to get the doors replaced with soundproof vault doors but without him paying for it; I would have had to convince people whose entire jobs are to ensure that (REDACTED) Corporation does not spend money, to spend a ton of money replacing the doors in the building so that he wouldn’t need to speak slightly more softly, and bringing it up would have made him forever vigilant about the acoustics of the free doors and etc., so fuck it. There is no winning. Bringing up a problem means it is yours to solve, and it is ultimately unsolvable, and any problem with the solution is going to be blamed on you. So fuck it. Anyway, obviously, I am going to eavesdrop on this call. I can’t not eavesdrop in any of his calls; I constantly have to hear his voice. When I go to hell it will be piped in. But this is the one time I desperately wanted to. I had to know. Continue reading
delicioustacos 