It was too beautiful a morning for a conventional dismissal. Burton Coggles, senior office clerk, was a model employee, strait-laced, no trouble, to some a little dull, a fixture like the exotic plant next to his desk. He was well known for his impeccable timekeeping and a full attendance record. He kept his head down, worked hard and always enjoyed high scores in performance appraisals. He was predictable. But all of that was about to change.
Burton pressed the elevator button for the sixth floor, home to Human Resources. He had been summoned to a meeting with a manager about half his age and with less than one tenth of his years of service. He knew his time was up. He knew he was for the chop but felt relaxed and ready for mischief.
Forty years in the job counted for nothing after the takeover. Loyalty and zero absenteeism were worth zip. The company, once fair and noble, was now owned by a conglomerate and staffed in the upper ranks by whizz kids sporting tiny but noticeable MBA lapel badges. It was not the company he joined decades ago.
Burton exited the lift on six and approached the reception desk.
‘Burton Coggles, ten o’clock, if you please.’ The assistant ticked a schedule and asked him to take a seat. Almost immediately, Della ‘Dizzy’ Heights appeared, shook hands with Burton and escorted him to an interview room. He thought she was a bit too jolly for an executioner.
Let the mischief begin, he thought, and as Ms Heights began speaking, Burton started to hum. When she paused, he paused. When she started speaking again, he started to hum again. He did not hear much of what she was saying. He could see the irritation and slow burn of frustration on Della’s reddening cheeks. Time for a change of tactics.
Every time he was asked a question, he gave ridiculous answers.
‘Do you know why you are here?’
‘Ham sandwich.’
‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘Sliced salami.’
‘Why are you being silly?’
‘Shish kebab.’
Della twisted in her chair and rolled her eyes.
‘Burton, I have important things to say.’
At that, he broke wind, and in the entire history of bodily gas incidents, this was epic, this was Ben-Hur times a thousand. It was noisy and noxious. Della shot up and threw open a window. Burton was giggling like a naughty schoolboy.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘when you’re being dismissed, all bets are off.’
Della had a perplexed look on her face.
‘Burton, no one is being sacked. I was trying to discuss a new opportunity with you. With all your experience, we have been considering offering you a general consultancy role to improve the wider business.’
Burton scrunched his eyes tightly.
‘But, after this behaviour, I’ll have to report back to the directors. I don’t know what they’ll decide now.’
*
Burton Coggles pressed the elevator button and headed for the ground floor. Outside, he noticed that in an otherwise clear blue sky, a lumpy black cloud had formed just above him. He caught sight of his reflection in a shop window and he and the reflection both shook their heads in total disbelief. On this too beautiful a morning for a conventional firing, he had triggered his own dismissal.
No comments:
Post a Comment