A good friend of mine recently had a really bad day at work. Afterwards, she went to Happy Hour with coworkers and lubricated herself with many cocktails, then went home and dove into a bottle of wine. Afterwards, she opened her work email and read a missive from her company’s CEO which was sent to the entire management team. The email, coming at the tail-end of a bad day, seriously annoyed her, so she wrote a rebuttal which included references to the CEO’s shortcomings, both personal and professional. For good measure, she added some editorial comments about various upper-level executives, unwisely hit “Send” and passed out at her desk, unaware that she had clicked the “Reply All” function.
By 9 AM the next morning, through the magic of email, everyone from the CEO to the manintenance staff had read my friend’s email. Less than 30 days later, her position was eliminated due to a corporate restructuring which, coincidentally, only affected her.
Now, listening to her sad story, I recalled that almost 20 years ago I had had a similar experience. In my case however, I did not just lose my job, I managed to bring down an entire company.
It was 1992 and I was a technical writer for a profitable little consulting company that had recently been bought by Chuck, a horrid little bully with a ferocious temper. Chuck had never owned a business, never supervised anyone and, as far as I could tell, had never had an independent thought in his life. He was also a pathological liar who was incapable of long term planning or of managing his cash flow. Now he was in way over his head and our once-profitable little company was absolutely hemorrhaging money, which he blamed on his staff, which hated and feared him in equal measure.
After eight months of non-stop losses, Chuck assembled his entire workforce for a “motivational dinner” at a local restaurant. His plan was to have a staff meeting at 6:00, followed by drinks and then dinner at 8:00, but the “motivational” part of the evening consisted of Chuck screaming at us for 30 minutes, naming names and telling us exactly what he thought of each of us both personally and professionally. As he spoke he got more and more worked up to the point where he was literally frothing at the mouth and I doubt that I was the only one who was secretly hoping he was having a stroke — just so that we could go home.
As Chuck ranted and raved my boss, the Executive VP of Operations, tried to calm him down.: “Easy there, Big Fella,” said Claudia, trying to make light of the situation. “You’re going to have a stroke.” Like an enraged bull, Chuck turned his fury fully on Claudia, specifically blaming her for the company’s financial woes, and conveniently forgetting that she had had the same position for the previous owner, who had raked the money in hand over fist.
Claudia, red faced and embarrassed was too proud to say another word and eventually Chuck ran out of steam, but as a final motivational incentive, Chuck threatened to close the company for good if profitability was not restored in the mext 30 days. “You’ll all be on the streets!” he said, and added, anti-climactically, I thought: “We have a little time before dinner, let’s all have a drink and relax!”
I checked my watch and saw we had a full 90 minutes until dinner, and by unspoken agreement the entire staff hit the restaurant’s bar where the threat of imminent unemployment combined with public humiliation led to the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol and some heated discussion.
Ninety minutes later, when it was time to sit down for dinner our group was dangerously angry. It was a tense, awkward meal and afterwards, in a misguided attempt to end the meeting on a positive note, Chuck thought it appropriate to ask for Divine Intervention. He stood up and asked if someone wanted to say a brief prayer for the company’s recovery. Thirty agnostics stared at him, aghast, and since no one volunteered, Chuck looked at me and said, “Guy, you have a way with words. Will you honor us?”
I had consumed many cocktails, and my judgment was seriously impaired. I stood up, swaying, folded my hands, bowed my head, thought quickly, and said:
“Dear Lord, we pray/on this stressful day/for deliverance from Chuck./We need a boss/not this albatross/who isn’t worth a fuck.” I looked up. The room was dead silent; my coworkers were staring, wide-eyed.
“Amen?” I added hastily, and sat down, my heart beating wildly.
The room stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity while Chuck stared at me, open mouthed. Then Claudia stood up and began to clap. She was soon joined by the rest of the staff in what became the one and only standing ovation of my life.
Without a word Chuck left the restaurant, sticking us with the dinner bill. He closed the company at the end of the week.