Something is very fishy!
This isn’t about being laid off so much as to leaving with style!
I worked as an art director for a very small 4-person advertising agency. My boss, the owner, had many personal issues – His short stature, Huge ego, raging coke addiction, wife who we nicknamed Maris (from Frasier TV show). She was never seen in the office, but always commented to our boss/troll on our work/ideas.
This was a horrible gig, but a good stepping stone as I was able to create some good work. We were housed in a industrial complex in a desert city in Southern California and while the front office looked great (we marketed real estate and Maris was a “interior designer”) the studio was in the back, with poor AC, and a industrial heater that could remove hair at 10 feet.
After a 2-3 weeks of daily post-its from Maris trying to tweak my designs (and always changing her mind) I’d had enough. The coked-out troll didn’t that the balls to make the final decision and Maris avoided day-light and human interaction so I was forced to deal with her via plethora of festive colored post-its, or a phone message that always started with her nasal exhaling from a cigarette and the words – “Markie, darling”. Just typing that makes my sphincter tighten. Anyways, I digress.
I was soon hired by our #1 competitor and when I gave two weeks notice, he countered he wanted me gone as soon as I finished my last project which was due July 3rd. He & Maris were going to a chi-chi spa (I’m betting a swingers thing) the next week so he was shutting the office down after the 4th and for the next week (unpaid for the staff – thanks boss!).
I decided on the 3rd to come in early to clean my desk out and I bought a nice big fish at the 24-hour supermarket on my way in. Before anyone arrived, I placed “Bert the bass” in a aluminium roasting pan and placed him above the false ceiling in the troll’s office.
I’m sure when they all arrived back after 12 days, that it smelled like that job did.
This post was submitted by Markie.