It had all seemed too good to be true, and even the owners seemed dismayed and betrayed by the sudden onset of cost cutting and the rapid purge of amenities. They had spent years building the business and nurturing the loyal employees who helped make them successful and wealthy. They were emotionally invested, but only to a point.
How could we know that our decent pay, high morale and sunlit fourth floor office would soon be darkened by an attention to the bottom line worthy of Jacob Marley’s scrutiny? Gone would be the monthly birthday gatherings in the central conference room, festooned with colors, cake and congratulations. Our weekly chair massages were the first thing to go. The owners were next.
And then the layoffs began; a few at first, and then with greater frequency. The investors could spot a successful business but had no idea how to run one. Morale and relationships begot sales, which in turn begot profits. Once morale tanked and favorite employees began to jump ship, customers shifted accounts to firms more like the one we had once been.
Rumors of an eventual large layoff circulated for weeks in hushed tones around the office. Savvy staff had already moved on, leaving the less seasoned among us to hope for a reprieve, a delay or some good old-fashioned luck. But the ax had been used to sharpen pencils, and spreadsheets were constructed with exquisite detail for review and an imminent blood letting. Friday would be blackened, and it was already Thursday.
Early that afternoon, an email blast appeared throughout the office, here and there accompanied by subtle chimes. Whispers followed, and then scurrying footsteps as staff ran between cubicles to stare together in horror at an attached file that was being saved to local hard drives.
“SHUT DOWN THE SERVER!” came a scream from a Vice President’s office down the hall. But it was too late.
Everyone in the office was in possession of an organized spreadsheet accounting of the next day’s layoff. Column by column, row-by-row, staff was reduced to numbers that told the story of their demise. Salaries, severance and savings, totaled and sub totaled, tallied for the investors and laid out like so much beef in a butcher’s counter, complete with white paper and twine.
As the story unfolded, an email distribution group titled “All Company Management” was alphabetically arranged next to the distribution group more appropriate for company newsletters named “All Company.” The mistake was honest, inexcusable and part of company lore for years to come. One click of the mouse selected the distribution group. A second click sent it irretrievably to everyone at The Company. Lacking a final warning that said, “Are you sure you want to send a note to all staff?” the mistake was one of inattention to detail at a moment when caution was paramount. And the incident changed nothing. The cake had been baked, but was now frosted with a thick layer of shame and humiliation for one of the few who didn’t lose her job that day. She was allowed to stay.
😎
If you like fiction and you're in the mood for over 50 short stories, please consider buying "Natural Selections," at Amazon.com.
Or if you'd prefer seventy non-fiction stories inspired by a town in Illinois, please consider buying Park Ridge Memories also on Amazon. Click on the image below.
