I've Been Trumped!
You know that funny little striking-snake-hand-motion for which Donald Trump is famous? All America knows the phrase that goes with it: YOU'RE FIRED! It’s mildly entertaining on TV, not so much in real life.
Even though the fact that I didn’t fit in at this time-warped-alternate-universe job only validates that I am a normal twenty-first century woman, it doesn’t take the sting out of hearing the words “I think you’ll be happier somewhere else.”
No tears stung my eyes. I was handed an envelope with severance pay inside. I briefly spoke what I hoped were words of comfort to a couple of visibly upset coworkers and friends. Gathered up the pictures of my family and walked out with as much dignity as I could muster.
This job was at a non-profit agency that caters to a male dominated profession, which should not have been a problem since that is familiar territory for me. A couple of my previous jobs were Drug Task Force Grant Monitor (old crusty cops) and Computer Tech (young snobby geeks). I fit well in both those worlds. I have a straightforward personality. If I have something to say, I say it. I don’t usually take things personally. I meet conflict head-on but with as much diplomacy as possible. I am not really a crier.
I attribute the beginning of the end of my tenure at this job to my speaking out about the lack of respect the men in office have for the women in the office. This place is a lawsuit waiting to happen. Not too long ago a male coworker actually said that my daughter had a “bambi butt” right in front of me. I know what you are thinking. First, what the hell does “bambi butt” mean? And second, no one in today’s work force would be that stupid. These people are that stupid and more.
Walking through the doors of the place is like walking through a time warp straight to the 1950’s. The men guffaw at their own jokes, make unseemly comments, take two-hour lunches, and the women do all the work and keep their mouths shut. Women shouldn’t make suggestions about improving productivity because “Men are big picture oriented and women are detail oriented.” That is a direct quote said to me by my boss when I noted that the women’s suggestions at a mandatory office brainstorming retreat were ignored or belittled. When I noted how sexist his comment was he told me I was too sensitive to women’s issues, among other asinine things.
I was not happy working there and was keeping my eyes open for another job. So why does my ego still hurt that they let me go? I did give them some ammunition to get rid of me by not always being timely, AKA I was late a lot, and I made liberal use of my sick leave and annual leave. Why do they give it to you if they don’t want you to use it? But for the most part, I truly tried my hardest to do a decent job of managing an unmanageable job. I definitely left the place better off than when I started.
So here I am in unfamiliar territory. I have met with success at most of the things I have set out to do. When I decided to go back to college in my mid-twenties I was a star student, though I dropped out 45 credits shy of my BA. I can’t think of a job I have interviewed for and didn’t get. Admittedly, I have a history of getting tired of working in the same place after a about a year and a half (truthfully I get antsy at about six months, but I try to stick around as long as possible). So, I have a colorful resume. One of the sentences near the end of a kick-ass cover letter I have used repeatedly states, “I was raised with, and firmly believe in, the old adage ‘where there is a will there is a way’ and will tackle any task undaunted.” Most of the time I believe that.
So, with that in mind, I will update my resume and move on. I truly feel sorry for my coworkers left behind. I hear they will be doing their jobs and mine for the next several months. When asked if they should be tracking their overtime so they could be compensated later, they were asked why they couldn’t do all the work during their eight-hour workday. These men are morons and the women left are saints. I am neither.
Even though the fact that I didn’t fit in at this time-warped-alternate-universe job only validates that I am a normal twenty-first century woman, it doesn’t take the sting out of hearing the words “I think you’ll be happier somewhere else.”
No tears stung my eyes. I was handed an envelope with severance pay inside. I briefly spoke what I hoped were words of comfort to a couple of visibly upset coworkers and friends. Gathered up the pictures of my family and walked out with as much dignity as I could muster.
This job was at a non-profit agency that caters to a male dominated profession, which should not have been a problem since that is familiar territory for me. A couple of my previous jobs were Drug Task Force Grant Monitor (old crusty cops) and Computer Tech (young snobby geeks). I fit well in both those worlds. I have a straightforward personality. If I have something to say, I say it. I don’t usually take things personally. I meet conflict head-on but with as much diplomacy as possible. I am not really a crier.
I attribute the beginning of the end of my tenure at this job to my speaking out about the lack of respect the men in office have for the women in the office. This place is a lawsuit waiting to happen. Not too long ago a male coworker actually said that my daughter had a “bambi butt” right in front of me. I know what you are thinking. First, what the hell does “bambi butt” mean? And second, no one in today’s work force would be that stupid. These people are that stupid and more.
Walking through the doors of the place is like walking through a time warp straight to the 1950’s. The men guffaw at their own jokes, make unseemly comments, take two-hour lunches, and the women do all the work and keep their mouths shut. Women shouldn’t make suggestions about improving productivity because “Men are big picture oriented and women are detail oriented.” That is a direct quote said to me by my boss when I noted that the women’s suggestions at a mandatory office brainstorming retreat were ignored or belittled. When I noted how sexist his comment was he told me I was too sensitive to women’s issues, among other asinine things.
I was not happy working there and was keeping my eyes open for another job. So why does my ego still hurt that they let me go? I did give them some ammunition to get rid of me by not always being timely, AKA I was late a lot, and I made liberal use of my sick leave and annual leave. Why do they give it to you if they don’t want you to use it? But for the most part, I truly tried my hardest to do a decent job of managing an unmanageable job. I definitely left the place better off than when I started.
So here I am in unfamiliar territory. I have met with success at most of the things I have set out to do. When I decided to go back to college in my mid-twenties I was a star student, though I dropped out 45 credits shy of my BA. I can’t think of a job I have interviewed for and didn’t get. Admittedly, I have a history of getting tired of working in the same place after a about a year and a half (truthfully I get antsy at about six months, but I try to stick around as long as possible). So, I have a colorful resume. One of the sentences near the end of a kick-ass cover letter I have used repeatedly states, “I was raised with, and firmly believe in, the old adage ‘where there is a will there is a way’ and will tackle any task undaunted.” Most of the time I believe that.
So, with that in mind, I will update my resume and move on. I truly feel sorry for my coworkers left behind. I hear they will be doing their jobs and mine for the next several months. When asked if they should be tracking their overtime so they could be compensated later, they were asked why they couldn’t do all the work during their eight-hour workday. These men are morons and the women left are saints. I am neither.
posted by Anonymous at 1:39 AM
2 Comments:
Ahhh mom. I'm sorry the boys at work are stupid dumb meanie heads. I was ready for you to get out of that place anyway. Tona--it's your turn now!!!!
And just for the record, I do not have a Bambi butt.
Can I write a hate letter and sign it, "your worst nightmare?"
One week into employment freedom, and I am feeling pretty good. The only thing that hurts is my ego. Other than that, I am so glad to not worry about that place. John asked me last night if I was enjoying my vacation. In truth, I am...
-T
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