professionalism #12
“ST. CLAIR! HA! WHEN’S THE LAST TIME YOU SAW THE INSIDE OF THESE WALLS THIS EARLY?”
“hi there...uh, who is she?”
“YOU JUST SIT DOWN. THIS HAS BEEN A LONG TIME COMING.”
“what has been a long time coming? i know it ain’t your wife cuz that bitch was all over my nuts last night and it didn’t take her no time…”
“WHY YOU LITTLE…” he lunged for me, knocking about a stack of paper and pens and whatnot. i beat him back, shocked him to his senses with a quick backhand to the forehead as he sprawled across the oaken table.
“Gentleman, Please. Can we maintain a semblance of professionalism around here?”
i turned to her and probably said something like, “indeed. professionalism,” straightening my tie, “that’s precisely what i’ve been asking for.”
“LET’S CUT THE CRAP HERE, YOU WEASLY LITTLE SHIT! THIS IS [deleted] FROM [deleted]. THE HOME OFFICE SENT HER DOWN HERE.”
“oh hey,” i extend a hand, “hi…that’s too bad.”
“Hello, Mr. St. Clair. We are here today because [deleted] has some concerns about some of the things we’ve discovered.” she slid a yellow envelope across the table. “Mr. St. Clair, did you author these?”
“did i author these?” i looked inside the envelope, but i knew what it was. “yeah…a fine piece of writing, don’t you think?” i really was proud of the work i did for the catalog. i saw it as my ticket out, you understand. proof that i had arrived as a writer. “yes. these are mine.”
“WHAT? YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT GONNA CLAIM SOME INTERN WROTE THEM?”
“Mr. [deleted], Please. Mr. St. Clair, those are your writings, correct?”
“yeah.”
“and you didn’t have a hand in writing them?”
“nope. listen, does this involve some kind of hefty bonus? cuz i’ve got a lot of important shit goin’ on right now…”
“We assure you, Mr. St. Clair, we want this to progress as quickly as possible as well. Mr. St. Clair, we here at [deleted] believe our employees should share in the values we espouse as a corporation. These are trying times, Mr. St. Clair, and [deleted] is committed to upholding the values that we see eroding in our society…values that are inherently American.”
“righty-o.”
“Additionally, Mr. St. Clair, we – as a corporation – are acutely aware of how our company is viewed in the public eye. Not only do we want to project these core ideals and beliefs to the populace, but we want to continue to be a viable, profitable component in the American economy.”
“…uh…ok.”
“Mr. St. Clair, we are hoping that you, too, can continue to be a viable…”
“say no more, lady, i am on the Team! you understand, i am Right Here with you. a Patriot, baby. and i am a Professional after all, you understand. alright? and now that that’s taken care of, if you’ll excuse me…”
“YOU WON’T BE GOING ANYWHERE YOU LILY-LIVERED COMMUNIST!”
“communist? did he just call me a communist?”
“Mr. St. Clair…I’d like you to take a look at something,” and in one fluid motion, she popped open her laptop and turned the thing so i could see the screen. there it was…the picture of Rudy Ray Moore as Dolemite, celebrating with his bitches around a Christmas tree. “Mr. St. Clair, what can you tell us about this?”
“a Ha…well, where to begin?” man, i swear i tried not to laugh, but that picture always got me. i remember when my uncle first showed it to me, back when i was maybe five, and i thought it was a real pisser even then. and why not now, too? the jig was up…i’d been found out…my cover was blown…time to head for the hills…get my kicks now before the whole shithouse goes up in flames. “my God,” i said, “what kind of filth is that?”
“Mr. St. Clair, we have reason to believe this is your weblog, or ‘blog’ as they’re more commonly known.”
“oh you do, do you?”
“Yes.”
“really?”
“MmmHmmm.”
“it’s not mine.”
“No, no…we’re pretty sure this is yours. We’ve confirmed the IP address as well as checked your internet history here at work and…”
“you’re mistaken!”
“We really don’t believe so, Mr. St. Clair.”
“it wasn’t my computer!”
“Nice try.”
“i was coerced!”
“Don’t think so.”
"the Taliban did it."
"Mr. St. Clair..."
"homos?"
"..."
“well fuck…i guess you will be pinning this one on me.”
“Mr. St. Clair, you should know that we used the writing samples you submitted to compare with what was unearthed on the internet. And Mr. St. Clair...I’m really not sure where to begin,” she chortled, “I…I suppose…well, what we found on your site was Highly original.”
“well that’s where you’re wrong.”
“Pardon Me? I’m not sure I understand…”
“that’s quite alright…i just meant that what you found isn’t original at all…nevermind…proceed.”
“Mr. St. Clair, I’m sure you can understand why [deleted] can’t have an employee – a representative of the company, even – to espouse such views in such a public forum. Since you failed to mention [deleted] by name, or any of the employees for that matter, we are willing to allow you to continue your relationship with this company. We will be asking, however, that you cease to write for that blog in the manner described herein,” she pushed a formal-looking document and pen in my direction, “and refrain from doing so in the future. We are also asking you to delete said blog from the internet. Furthermore, we reserve the right to terminate your employment for failure to comply with this request at any time in the future, or for behavior or public speech that we may deem to be otherwise incompatible with our Company’s Mission. This would include, but not be limited to, espousing similar ideas – whether real, imagined, or implied –as those expressed on your site. Do you understand these requests, Mr. St. Clair?”
“due process?”
“Don’t think so.”
“freedom of speech?”
“Not even close.”
“well shit…”
“hi there...uh, who is she?”
“YOU JUST SIT DOWN. THIS HAS BEEN A LONG TIME COMING.”
“what has been a long time coming? i know it ain’t your wife cuz that bitch was all over my nuts last night and it didn’t take her no time…”
“WHY YOU LITTLE…” he lunged for me, knocking about a stack of paper and pens and whatnot. i beat him back, shocked him to his senses with a quick backhand to the forehead as he sprawled across the oaken table.
“Gentleman, Please. Can we maintain a semblance of professionalism around here?”
i turned to her and probably said something like, “indeed. professionalism,” straightening my tie, “that’s precisely what i’ve been asking for.”
“LET’S CUT THE CRAP HERE, YOU WEASLY LITTLE SHIT! THIS IS [deleted] FROM [deleted]. THE HOME OFFICE SENT HER DOWN HERE.”
“oh hey,” i extend a hand, “hi…that’s too bad.”
“Hello, Mr. St. Clair. We are here today because [deleted] has some concerns about some of the things we’ve discovered.” she slid a yellow envelope across the table. “Mr. St. Clair, did you author these?”
“did i author these?” i looked inside the envelope, but i knew what it was. “yeah…a fine piece of writing, don’t you think?” i really was proud of the work i did for the catalog. i saw it as my ticket out, you understand. proof that i had arrived as a writer. “yes. these are mine.”
“WHAT? YOU MEAN YOU’RE NOT GONNA CLAIM SOME INTERN WROTE THEM?”
“Mr. [deleted], Please. Mr. St. Clair, those are your writings, correct?”
“yeah.”
“and you didn’t have a hand in writing them?”
“nope. listen, does this involve some kind of hefty bonus? cuz i’ve got a lot of important shit goin’ on right now…”
“We assure you, Mr. St. Clair, we want this to progress as quickly as possible as well. Mr. St. Clair, we here at [deleted] believe our employees should share in the values we espouse as a corporation. These are trying times, Mr. St. Clair, and [deleted] is committed to upholding the values that we see eroding in our society…values that are inherently American.”
“righty-o.”
“Additionally, Mr. St. Clair, we – as a corporation – are acutely aware of how our company is viewed in the public eye. Not only do we want to project these core ideals and beliefs to the populace, but we want to continue to be a viable, profitable component in the American economy.”
“…uh…ok.”
“Mr. St. Clair, we are hoping that you, too, can continue to be a viable…”
“say no more, lady, i am on the Team! you understand, i am Right Here with you. a Patriot, baby. and i am a Professional after all, you understand. alright? and now that that’s taken care of, if you’ll excuse me…”
“YOU WON’T BE GOING ANYWHERE YOU LILY-LIVERED COMMUNIST!”
“communist? did he just call me a communist?”
“Mr. St. Clair…I’d like you to take a look at something,” and in one fluid motion, she popped open her laptop and turned the thing so i could see the screen. there it was…the picture of Rudy Ray Moore as Dolemite, celebrating with his bitches around a Christmas tree. “Mr. St. Clair, what can you tell us about this?”
“a Ha…well, where to begin?” man, i swear i tried not to laugh, but that picture always got me. i remember when my uncle first showed it to me, back when i was maybe five, and i thought it was a real pisser even then. and why not now, too? the jig was up…i’d been found out…my cover was blown…time to head for the hills…get my kicks now before the whole shithouse goes up in flames. “my God,” i said, “what kind of filth is that?”
“Mr. St. Clair, we have reason to believe this is your weblog, or ‘blog’ as they’re more commonly known.”
“oh you do, do you?”
“Yes.”
“really?”
“MmmHmmm.”
“it’s not mine.”
“No, no…we’re pretty sure this is yours. We’ve confirmed the IP address as well as checked your internet history here at work and…”
“you’re mistaken!”
“We really don’t believe so, Mr. St. Clair.”
“it wasn’t my computer!”
“Nice try.”
“i was coerced!”
“Don’t think so.”
"the Taliban did it."
"Mr. St. Clair..."
"homos?"
"..."
“well fuck…i guess you will be pinning this one on me.”
“Mr. St. Clair, you should know that we used the writing samples you submitted to compare with what was unearthed on the internet. And Mr. St. Clair...I’m really not sure where to begin,” she chortled, “I…I suppose…well, what we found on your site was Highly original.”
“well that’s where you’re wrong.”
“Pardon Me? I’m not sure I understand…”
“that’s quite alright…i just meant that what you found isn’t original at all…nevermind…proceed.”
“Mr. St. Clair, I’m sure you can understand why [deleted] can’t have an employee – a representative of the company, even – to espouse such views in such a public forum. Since you failed to mention [deleted] by name, or any of the employees for that matter, we are willing to allow you to continue your relationship with this company. We will be asking, however, that you cease to write for that blog in the manner described herein,” she pushed a formal-looking document and pen in my direction, “and refrain from doing so in the future. We are also asking you to delete said blog from the internet. Furthermore, we reserve the right to terminate your employment for failure to comply with this request at any time in the future, or for behavior or public speech that we may deem to be otherwise incompatible with our Company’s Mission. This would include, but not be limited to, espousing similar ideas – whether real, imagined, or implied –as those expressed on your site. Do you understand these requests, Mr. St. Clair?”
“due process?”
“Don’t think so.”
“freedom of speech?”
“Not even close.”
“well shit…”
Johnny St. Clair wuz here at 11:58 PM
1 Comments:
delete this __|__ mother fucker!!!
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