"Life is lonely, we all know this," Johnathon says as he swaggers around the large conference room table, surprisingly not trying to sell something - he is quite the salesman. "The job, fellas," of course, the women in the room are every bit as attentive as the fellas, "shouldn't make us feel even more lonely. Our team work, that is what we have to pull us through!"
Of course, this line of bullshit is only built around the singular vision of making himself look good for all the higher ups. Just last week, while trying to negotiate with him taking a few of my leads in an effort to start weaseling my way away from selling to allow more personal time with my clients, he declined. See, as he put it, he didn't earn those clients so he didn't want them.
He just has his nose up the corporate's brown eye.
Of course, he is striking a prominent chord in me here. This job makes me feel like I'm wasting away - it doesn't matter how good I am at it, or how good the pay is. I'm just a cog in the endless wheel. I leave and they replace me.
"Terry, over there, he is a prime example! That man, fellas - I tell you, he is king of the hill!" Johnathon's fingers pointing directly at me. "This guy could sell goat skin to a goat farmer!"
I've never heard that expression before - fucking weird one.
"But, even Terry is lonely! I bet he has too many clients to deal with. Why, I bet he could even afford to pass a few of them off to someone else and with as well as he gets to know his clients, he could really help out on getting information about them out there to really lock in those sales!"
Bastard.
"And that would strengthen the whole team. Imagine if we all had a secured client base like Terry! We'd only have to replace people once they passed away!"
What a morbid mother fucker.
"Of course, that is a horrible business strategy. Of course we'd just need to expand!" His swagger is full of grandeur now, like a peacock in full display mode. I've never seen a man showing off like this unless there was some pussy involved.
"Get to the point, Johnathon."
Finally.
"Alright, alright. So I think we should implement a new training method that really focuses on the client, and I think I'd be perfect for the position." His pace and expression frozen as dead as someone who was found frozen to death.
Well, that's ballsy. Saying that in front of a whole group of sales people who all have roughly the same amount of experience.
"Johnathon, we will need to talk after this meeting." Patrick, the boss, said in the most stern voice I've ever heard him use. He, normally, is the most pleasant person to be around - someone more akin to making everyone in the room feeling happy to be alive than to making them feel as though they were on the verge of death - here we all are, though, frozen like that dead body.
"Terry, I want you to stay behind as well."
I have tried my damnedest to stay out of trouble. I couldn't imagine what I've done wrong. I just want to collect my fucking paycheck and go home.
Maybe this could be a good thing. Maybe they will fire me and I will be able to collect unemployment while I really focus on my life - what I want out of my life.
I have always found it perplexing how people can stick to the same job for so long when there is so little psychological fulfillment in what they spend so much of their lives doing. Waste away in the hopes for a pension, a healthy savings account, and a lack of life lived in their prime.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised - the majority of people still believe some imaginary person in the sky watches what everyone does and if they don't do what he wants them to then they will burn for the rest of eternity. Living in that kind of fear would most certainly take away your desire to fight back against a system that destroys your whole will to live.
I suppose I should have been paying more attention because now everyone is walking out - all of which looking like they dodged some kind of bullet.
As the final person steps out, Patrick closes the door behind them.
"Alright, Johnathon. You're fired. We know that Terry offered up some of his clients last week and we had no idea why you turned them down, but now it is obvious - you wanted to turn it into your idea to look better."
"Wait... what? What gives you..." Patrick's face was getting more red than I'd have ever imagined possible as Johnathon changes his tune. "Fuck you, Terry. Fuck you. You're doing this to make me look bad!"
Aflood with confusion, "I... I'm completely lost here."
"No, Johnathon. Terry comes in and puts his head down. He just does his work, and he excels at it. He has turned this company around from a run of the mill sales team to a team where the clients actually feel like we help them."
I was just doing my job.
"Then who the fuck ratted me out!" The conference speaker sets sail directly to the wall and shatters into twenty pieces.
"Someone who cares about how this job operates. Now get out of the building." Two armed security guards step inside the room as Johnathon walks out.
"Now. Terry, what Johnathon was getting to is right. We do need someone to really lead the charge on training our team on how to make our clients feel like family. We want it to be you."
Fuck.
-Dustin S. Stover
Of course, this line of bullshit is only built around the singular vision of making himself look good for all the higher ups. Just last week, while trying to negotiate with him taking a few of my leads in an effort to start weaseling my way away from selling to allow more personal time with my clients, he declined. See, as he put it, he didn't earn those clients so he didn't want them.
He just has his nose up the corporate's brown eye.
Of course, he is striking a prominent chord in me here. This job makes me feel like I'm wasting away - it doesn't matter how good I am at it, or how good the pay is. I'm just a cog in the endless wheel. I leave and they replace me.
"Terry, over there, he is a prime example! That man, fellas - I tell you, he is king of the hill!" Johnathon's fingers pointing directly at me. "This guy could sell goat skin to a goat farmer!"
I've never heard that expression before - fucking weird one.
"But, even Terry is lonely! I bet he has too many clients to deal with. Why, I bet he could even afford to pass a few of them off to someone else and with as well as he gets to know his clients, he could really help out on getting information about them out there to really lock in those sales!"
Bastard.
"And that would strengthen the whole team. Imagine if we all had a secured client base like Terry! We'd only have to replace people once they passed away!"
What a morbid mother fucker.
"Of course, that is a horrible business strategy. Of course we'd just need to expand!" His swagger is full of grandeur now, like a peacock in full display mode. I've never seen a man showing off like this unless there was some pussy involved.
"Get to the point, Johnathon."
Finally.
"Alright, alright. So I think we should implement a new training method that really focuses on the client, and I think I'd be perfect for the position." His pace and expression frozen as dead as someone who was found frozen to death.
Well, that's ballsy. Saying that in front of a whole group of sales people who all have roughly the same amount of experience.
"Johnathon, we will need to talk after this meeting." Patrick, the boss, said in the most stern voice I've ever heard him use. He, normally, is the most pleasant person to be around - someone more akin to making everyone in the room feeling happy to be alive than to making them feel as though they were on the verge of death - here we all are, though, frozen like that dead body.
"Terry, I want you to stay behind as well."
I have tried my damnedest to stay out of trouble. I couldn't imagine what I've done wrong. I just want to collect my fucking paycheck and go home.
Maybe this could be a good thing. Maybe they will fire me and I will be able to collect unemployment while I really focus on my life - what I want out of my life.
I have always found it perplexing how people can stick to the same job for so long when there is so little psychological fulfillment in what they spend so much of their lives doing. Waste away in the hopes for a pension, a healthy savings account, and a lack of life lived in their prime.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised - the majority of people still believe some imaginary person in the sky watches what everyone does and if they don't do what he wants them to then they will burn for the rest of eternity. Living in that kind of fear would most certainly take away your desire to fight back against a system that destroys your whole will to live.
I suppose I should have been paying more attention because now everyone is walking out - all of which looking like they dodged some kind of bullet.
As the final person steps out, Patrick closes the door behind them.
"Alright, Johnathon. You're fired. We know that Terry offered up some of his clients last week and we had no idea why you turned them down, but now it is obvious - you wanted to turn it into your idea to look better."
"Wait... what? What gives you..." Patrick's face was getting more red than I'd have ever imagined possible as Johnathon changes his tune. "Fuck you, Terry. Fuck you. You're doing this to make me look bad!"
Aflood with confusion, "I... I'm completely lost here."
"No, Johnathon. Terry comes in and puts his head down. He just does his work, and he excels at it. He has turned this company around from a run of the mill sales team to a team where the clients actually feel like we help them."
I was just doing my job.
"Then who the fuck ratted me out!" The conference speaker sets sail directly to the wall and shatters into twenty pieces.
"Someone who cares about how this job operates. Now get out of the building." Two armed security guards step inside the room as Johnathon walks out.
"Now. Terry, what Johnathon was getting to is right. We do need someone to really lead the charge on training our team on how to make our clients feel like family. We want it to be you."
Fuck.
-Dustin S. Stover
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