Memo To The C.E.O. Re: Academy Awards Speech

Memo: To C.E.O. of Satan’s Butthole XYZ Company

From: Kat (Recently Resigned Peon)

Dear Sir,

As you may be aware by now, I recently tendered my resignation here at Satan’s Butthole XYZ company. I’d like to thank you for the opportunity to need psychological counseling work with your company for seventeen years. It was real. Sometimes it was fun.

But it was never real fun.

One of my friends and coworkers lamented that I would not have an exit interview, as she would LOVE to hear my responses in that.

To which I responded:

I DON’T NEED AN EXIT INTERVIEW. I HAVE A BLOG.

However, it did give me some pause to think, since it seems that employees should be given their one final hurrah, especially those of us who have been here a while.

As one of my final suggestions, I thought it might be appropriate for outgoing employees to be given a platform (like, literally a platform to stand on) in order to give a speech. You know, something along the lines of an Academy Award speech.

But first, we need to set it up like the Academy Awards. Roll out a red carpet and line it with people asking who we’re wearing.

“Why thank, you, Joan. No, I’m not wearing Calving Klein or Vera Wang. I had considered a lovely ensemble I found at J.C. Penny’s (pronounced Jacque Pen-nay), but then there was a lovely little get-up at Target (pronounced Tar-jay) that caught my eye. I finally settled on this gorgeous frock from Amazon. It was only $14 and it has pockets! Plus, I got free two-day shipping because I’m an exclusive Prime Member!”

As for the speech, I’m sure you’re curious as to what this would entail.

I’m so glad you asked.

I respectfully submit a sample from my own exit.

You Like Me! You Really Like Me!

Dear Friends, Colleagues, Teammates, Team Managers, Section Managers, VPOs and Random People wearing suits who show up with no warning like long lost relatives that heard you came into money:

I humbly accept this title of Refugee Former Employee on behalf of all of my brothers and sisters who are fighting the good fight. Those tenacious workers who continue to do the same shit, different day, like a hamster on a squeaky metal wheel at 2 a.m. 

Might I suggest leaving some cedar shavings in the bottom of their cubicles and hang a water bottle in the corner (to be used only on scheduled breaks, of course)? A few tasty pellets and a carrot or two wouldn’t hurt either.

It is on their behalf that I accept this award and move on to the refugee camp where all of your other employees are running in droves my next opportunity.

It has been a long road. Seventeen years, two months, eleven days and twenty minutes is a really long time. Especially when you’re literally counting it by the seconds.

I’d like to say that at least ten of those were good years.

I’d like to, but that would be a lie.

Unfortunately, my time here did take its toll. Years of sitting all day caused by butt to take on the shape of my ergonomically designed chair. Stress-eating Cheetos caused my weight to balloon to the point that I needed my own zip code. Being berated by customers who were pissed off about things beyond my control caused me to develop a deep hatred for the human race.

Just kidding. I’ve ALWAYS hated the human race.

And then there were the metrics years. What can I say about the metrics that won’t land me in the next workplace violence training video?

I’d like to thank the absolute fucking moron genius who decided that numbers on a report were far more important than actual customer service. Making sure we handle all calls in twelve minutes or less, whether we handled the issue or not, is pure gold. Creating an environment where we all play “hot potato” with a case until some unfortunate noob actually catches the damned thing and gets abused for forty-five minutes by an irate customer, then gigging that noob because their “handle time” was too long, now THAT’S initiative!

Well played, pencil-pushing Dr. Evil-wannabe. Well played.

All you need is some “frickin’ laser beams” on some sharks, and you’d be FUCKING PERFECT, YOU DOUCHECANOE.

But I digress.

I didn’t get here alone.  I had a lot of help over the years becoming a former employee. I’d like to take a moment to thank those that made the last seventeen years completely unbearable memorable.

First, I’d like to thank M: I will always remember you for the interview question you asked me when I was trying to get the job.

“What would you say are your greatest strengths and weaknesses?”

Oh, M. How fucking stupid is this trick question? Is this the part where I make myself look so cocky that you don’t hire me because I’m full of myself? Or is it the part where I shoot myself in the foot because I’m actually telling you why I’d be a shitty employee?

And, of course, I didn’t answer you honestly because I was a twenty-nine year old school teacher trying to break into corporate America so that I could afford to have children while I was still young enough to gestate them. I gave you a song and dance about being  independent and also being afraid to ask for help, yada yada yada.

You want my real answer, M? Here’s my real answer. My strength is being able to take your irate customer, talk them off the ledge by apologizing profusely for somebody else’s fuck up, explain shit to them like they’re a fourth grader, recommend a good course of action moving forward and retain them as your customer even though you don’t give two shits about them. And then they thank me for actually giving them some customer service!

My weaknesses? Well, I wouldn’t say I’d ever chase a man, but if a Dude has muscles, tattoos, and a sense of humor, this bitch just might speed-walk.

I’d also like to thank M for informing me that being bilingual is NOT a skill worthy enough to put on my evaluation as something that “sets me apart from my coworkers”. Apparently, according to M, that would be like him saying “being tall” sets him apart from everyone else.

Well, M. The next time I get a Spanish speaking caller, I’ll just transfer them to you and you can just sit there and be tall.

Next, I’d like to thank S for trying so hard to get people fired and failing miserably at it. I could talk about you trying to railroad the best employee you ever had, who has forgotten more about the policies she handled than you ever knew, and that the only reason you didn’t derail her career is you realized everyone else would think you’re a moron and there would likely be legal action. I could talk to you about the way you would stand in the aisle and berate people in full view of everyone else instead of taking it to a conference room or empty office. I could talk about how you had two faces and backstabbing was your forte.

But I’d rather talk about the time I made the mistake of friending you on social media and then you tried to get me fired for a generic comment I made about work, even though my profile has never said where I work and I never say anything too specific.

I would call you a snake in the grass, but even rattlers warn you before they strike. Instead, I’ll just say:

C. U. Next. Tuesday.

And finally, I couldn’t depart without thanking you, K. That target you painted on my ass for no reason? That was good times.

I ESPECIALLY loved the way you never approved any letter I wrote without making a thousand corrections, even though I had been writing those letters for twelve years before landing on your team. I also appreciate the way you actually tried to say on my evaluation that “Kat’s grammar and letter writing need significant improvement and we will continue to work with her on that.”

You fucking jackhole.

You can criticize my letter writing STYLE all you want. You can tell me to word it differently, and I will.

You can even point out that this blog is not written in the style to which I should’ve learned about proper writing in school. You would be correct. This blog is written in a conversational tone. It isn’t intended to be Shakespeare.

But DO NOT EVER write on a permanent evaluation that my grammar needs improvement or that I can’t write.

I will literally throw a Thesaurus at your head and laugh when you bleed.

 

To give you credit, you DID change that part after I had a nuclear meltdown in your cubicle and VERY NEARLY ACTUALLY THREW A THESAURUS AT YOUR HEAD. I want you to know that I can admit when I’m wrong and I shouldn’t have used all those words that made you stare at me like a deer in the headlights of an 18 wheeler.

To MY credit, all those words were used correctly and in context, which just proves my point about my writing ability.

Also, I’d like to apologize to all of Northeastern Oklahoma and Southern Kansas for the mushroom cloud that still hangs over us to this day.

And now I can see that my speech has run long and they are signaling for me to wrap this up.

I’m not going to lie. I really wanted to end my speech with a quote that would embody my time here at Satan’s Butthole XYZ Company. Something awe-inspiring. Something profound. Something that would comfort you all during the difficult times ahead. Something that would show me in the best possible light and make you all think I’m a really compelling individual.

Then I remembered that this isn’t fucking high school and I’m not trying to come up with the dumbass quote that has to go under my Senior picture in the fucking yearbook.

Fuck all that unicorns and rainbows shit.

In the immortal words of Def Leppard, my parting thought is:

Sincerely,

Recently Resigned Peon

Stay weird, my friends. Normal is boring.

Read my other memos to the C.E.O. here and here and my attempt at using the workplace suggestion board here!