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After YSL childishly removed all traces of their outgoing boss this week, it got us thinking – when fired, is it better to burn out than fade away?
Good Morning! It’s the last day of the working week. While it is certainly that, what if today was your last day of work? If you were told that you no longer work here, how would they handle it? Would they honour you with the gold watch stereotype? The noble handshake, the honour guard of your peers, as they retold anecdotes, cementing you as a true champion of the workplace? Why Darryl, why go? Weep the shrunken, betrayed eyes of the multiple work-baes, the one that neither of you bothered to break the ice with. As the drum kit played out your poetic, and bitterly accepted exit, you know you need to say nothing, beyond a fist pump in the air, and fade to black.
Or would your disappearance go unnoticed by the cretins in upper management, beyond the exchange of: “What happened to Darryl?
“What happened to Darryl?”
Moreover, given that situation, how would you handle it?
Why the proverbials? Well, earlier this week designer label Yves Saint-Laurent honoured the outgoing Hedi Slimane by completely whitewashing their Instagram account, replacing Slimane’s work with the mug of the man who replaced him.
Which got us to thinking, while that is a fashionable exit, surely it could be bettered.
So we asked some people to see if we can answer the question: Is it better to burn out than fade away in the workplace?
I let someone go, but they wouldn’t leave. This employee wasn’t up to standard, he was late, took zero responsibility for his area, couldn’t take constructive criticism. So, the decision was an easy one. In theory. I told him that he had the rest of the day, and that was all. He agreed with a nod. No emotion, no nothing. All good, so far.
Until the morning, when he walked through the doors of the call-centre. He wished us all Good Mornings and promptly got to work. So, I approached the shared desks we had, and audibly asked him what he was doing here. You, know loud enough so his team members would either a) jump in or b) explain what the situation was. Unfortunately, I got no response. I approached him again just before lunch, and told him that he no longer works here, and he needed to leave immediately. He agreed with me with a nod.
I approached him again just before lunch, and told him that he no longer works here, and he needed to leave immediately. He agreed with me with a nod.
I returned to lunch to find him still there, tapping away.
I asked him to leave. He agreed that he would, but he needed to finish up the task he was on, the one that he was on, prior to him being sacked. I thought, well, what the hell. It needed to be done, and he was no longer on the payroll, so I let him stay. After all, he agreed to leave.
This whole scene played out for an entire week. He was there, I’d ask him to leave, He would do so, after the report was done. Manhandling him was absolutely out of the question, due to potential lawsuits etc, but needless to say, by Friday I was willing to test that theory.
So, on that Friday, I moved my desk to his, to try and psyche him out. Which was also a mistake. I tried to engage him in small talk, so I could coerce him to leave, but every time I did, he’d look up at me with annoyance, gesturing toward the file on his desk, like I was inconveniencing his busy workday.
Long story short. He finished the task. And, it was rather good.
I never got to fire him, instead, I moved him to another office. He’s a Regional Manager now.
He’s a Regional Manager now.
Not something I’ve done, but something I’ve seen done. It was a co-worker of mine, we both used to work in a large storage warehouse, and to move everything around we used those motorised forklifts you can stand on.
Anyway, so, he and I both got let go on the same day. Jia didn’t take it very well. Muttering under his breath, dreaming of revenge, he commandeered the nearest forklift, and made a beeline for the nearest pile of stock he could find, which happened to be a pile of plasma televisions. Jia’s eyes lit up, but he clearly overestimated the speed of the forklift, so his scream of “Banzai” had morphed into complete gibberish by the point of impact, which didn’t live up to Jia’s expectation.
The forklift bounced off harmlessly, as Jia’s shriek was cut off by the impact. He sounded like a CD skipping. I’ll never forget it.
In my hospo days, I walked out in the middle of a Saturday evening shift. (Why?). Because they cut my shifts, as they took on yet more staff. So, I knew it was personal. At that point I was senior, so I waited until I was rostered on with the new staff, and then made my exit.
Still the best exit of my life.
Mine was more the reaction if anything. I knew I was being sacked, so by the time that the actual moment came, I had already dealt with it. The Big Boss, palms open, face understanding obliquely explained all the reasons, but in a nice way. A way that blamed everyone, and not just me. So, I stopped him mid-sentence and explained that I already knew this was coming, and he should save his breath.
I saw all the colour drain out of his face, and suddenly, he was a man possessed. Ranting, raving, aims flailing, telling me what he really thought of me, and asked how I could come into his building and disrespect his office. Clearly, he wasn’t ready for this outcome, and thusly, hadn’t thought out his insults, so everything was a non-sensical question, until I got up to leave, which enraged him more, so much so that he brought his fist down on his desk, and had to mask the pain he was in for the rest of his rant.
After I was let go, my legacy to the office was a rather large email outlining all the gossip I’d overheard.
Ahoy TBSers! If you have a workplace story of sour grapes a better vintage than this batch, leave it in the comments section!