Memo To The C.E.O. Re: Asking For Time Off

MEMO: To the C.E.O. of Satan’s Butthole

From: Kat (former peon at Satan’s Butthole)

Dear Sir,

I know, I know. I don’t work for you anymore, and yet here I am, writing to you again on behalf of all the tortured souls who still do.

Let us have a moment of silence for the overworked and under appreciated masses.

Anyway, Dick…you don’t mind if I still call you Dick, right? Don’t answer that. It’s strictly rhetorical. This is my blog and I’ll call you whatever I want.

Anyway, Dick, seeing how I still have friends and acquaintances that continue to work for you (despite the fact that you treat them like cogs in a really deformed and largely obtuse wheel), I get little nuggets of gossip turds interesting information every now and then about your idiotic, arbitrarily vomited ideas known as absence policies. Not only that, but I get to hear about the awesomely craptastic shit-for-brains arseholes upper management that you’ve put in place to make sure the idiotic, arbitrarily vomited ideas known as absence policies are strictly policed and enforced.

Allow me to paint you a picture in a way that only I can.

Picture, if you will, a long term employee (we’re talking 20+ years) with a decent record. No history of calling in for the heck of it. No history of shoving off work on anyone else. No history of bad behavior or problems or issues that would call attention to a simple request for time off.

In other words, the type of employee you used to pride yourself on hiring and retaining, but would now rather replace with a snot-nosed, entitled kid with no phone skills, no customer service skills, and the personality of a pile of week-old laundry because you can pay that kid less than half what you’re paying the employee who still gives a damn about actually serving your customers (who incidentally, are also leaving in droves).

But I digress. Picture that long term employee checking “the calendar” to see if they can request a day off. It’s May and Tis The Season for high school and college graduations. Our long term employee has a child who is graduating and said employee will need time off to travel to and attend the ceremony.

But Dick, there’s no time available on the calendar. The calendar filled up way back in January when all the employees had to recreate the Oklahoma Land Rush to stake their claim on vacation days they have earned and accrued, and fill out their time off for the year. What’s an employee with six hundred vacation hours and no way to use them supposed to do?

The long term employee goes to their supervisor and requests an “override” to allow for time off when there’s none available. The supervisor is happy to do it, but……………………………………………………………………………………………………..

There’s one little catch. The supervisor has to submit it to Beelzebub to be approved. The same Beelzebub who I had to request time off from to be at the hospital for a close relative’s procedure and was told that my request was a “want to”, not a “need to” and therefore, I needed to be in my chair at work talking to customers and taking no longer than 12.5 minutes to wrap up whatever work I had after the phone call so that I could take the next call and the next and the next until it was time to work my five pieces of mail per hour and my four calendars per hour and don’t work more than that because you’ll be seen as cheating the system and don’t work less than that because you’ll be seen as being lazy and this porridge is too hot and that bed is too soft and this little piggy went “wee wee wee” all the way home.

THAT Beelzebub.

So when the supervisor submitted it to Beelzebub, Beelzebub acted like the douche that he is thoughtfully reviewed the situation and requested the name of the college that Long Term Employee’s child was graduating from.

You know. So he could verify for himself there was actually a graduation going on.

Because so many people lie about shit like that, right?

Alas, the Long Term Employee did what they had to do because we’ll do anything for our kids. When said Employee posted pictures of the graduation on Facebook, I tried to tag Beelzebub in the photos.

You know. So he could see there was actually a graduation.

Unfortunately, his Facebook page is set to private so I wasn’t able to share photos of the joyous occasion with him.

Which brings me to my suggestion. You know I’m a firm believer in constructive criticism, so I would never write a memo to you without some heartfelt suggestions that could solve all your problems. That’s the kind of former employee I am.

My suggestion is that you and all upper management at Satan’s Butthole should be required to make your social media profiles public. That way, your employees can tag you in all the important stuff like graduations, weddings, funerals, birthdays, vacations, illnesses, what they had for dinner and kitten videos. Conversely, you can show us pictures of your Thanksgiving meal and five day weekend that you get to enjoy with your family while seventy-five percent of your employees have to make other arrangements because they have to be back at work the Friday after.

Plus, every time my new job gives me a bonus, or my current supervisor pats me on the back and tells me how much he appreciates me and my hard work, I can send you a GIF like this one:

In conclusion, I would like to commend you for taking a hard line on being the best and sticking to it.

The best at sucking the life right out of people.

The best at fucking up everything that was right about your company.

The best at spending money on years of training and development and then driving those people to other jobs.

You, Sir, are a…

The opinions expressed here are purely those of the author and about 65,644 Satan’s Butthole employees. Any similarities to any persons, living dead or zombified is not purely coincidental. Dick and Beelzebub are not their real names. Their real names are much worse. Angel Who Swears is not liable for any defamation of character, as that would require those persons involved to have character in the first place. Please include me in the class action.