Well hello, Captain “I have an entirely too long list of unfulfilled desires at home, we’re like a family here.” Boss guy!
Yea, thanks but no thanks.
I already have a family and we have enough basement skeletons and awkward Thanksgiving dinners to last awhile.
Tell me I’m gunna need more paper for my manifesto, because the moment you try and guilt me out of taking a day off for something that brings a modicum of sunshine into this overworked and underpaid existence...
I’ll shoot you off the Queen Anne myself.
You. Your wife. And those BURNT ASS CUPCAKES she brought to that forced “team building” event.
An event that consisted of you talking about how you were about to commit some faustian employment transmutation that would cause our responsibilities to double while our paychecks somehow shrank.
Then we got Emily.
Poor Sweet Emily.
Emily who hasn’t seen her family in 5 years because she’s been shoulder deep up your rear end trying to earn that promotion. Her personal life is now a myth lying in the bottom of Camp Crystal Lake next to Jason, but I guess you can skip your next 25 colonoscopies.
Early days, late nights, 7 days a week, with phenomenal reviews, trying to get that assistant manager position. She got a 0.5% raise, but your nephew Kyle who spent his formative years tethered to a tree in your backyard just got ushered in instead.
Just be honest, you don’t want an employee, you want a team of pseudo child servants that you can pay in gruel and pre chewed binkies that Kyle no longer wants.
You don’t deserve to run a business, you deserve to be sent to Mongolia and forced to live in the Yurt no one wants cause it smells of stale horse piss, herding screaming goats that think you’re cute.
No one here likes you.
Vin Diesel ain’t coming back for you.
You act like you’re the next Elon Musk.
But text me again after midnight on my day off?
Our working relationship will be just like his with his kids:
Nonexistent.
-RC