The Time I Got Promoted

I honestly hope you never have to suffer the indignity of working for a giant evil corporation. Sure, there are benefits, like getting to stay out of the bottom 95% and using their conference rooms as your own personal opium dens (Sex and drugs!). But to quote the Bible, ‘For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?’. Please don’t tell anyone I just quoted the Bible. Wouldn’t want to ruin my reputation.

Fortunately, I always saw my jobs there for what they were: things to be tolerated for a short period of time until I got my real life back. Being a devout opportunist, I also used my time there to gather as many interesting stories as possible.

One of the biggest flaws at the evil corporation (and any of the top 500 from what I’m told), is that you could never be sure who your actual boss was. I’m convinced they do this on purpose so you don’t know who to avoid and who to trust. There was a pretty clear hierarchy when I worked in property management, and even though there was one member of ‘leadership’ to every one and half nonmembers, at least I knew who I could use ‘fuck’ with in my emails.

Once I moved over to finance (and away from Denny thank god), things got a lot murkier. There was a Supervisor who handled my paychecks, but there were also finance directors I had to ask permission in order to send out checks, and finance managers who would tell me what to do. It was all very confusing, but like almost everything else at the evil corporation, I didn’t care enough to ask.

The hardest part of my job was pretending to look busy for the seven and a half hours a day when I didn’t have anything to do. So I quickly befriended a fellow free thinker, and we spent most of the day making fun of people. “Why are these idiots always running around? We all know there’s nothing to do”.

Anyways, the finance director I sat closest to was actually chill as fuck. You could tell he just wanted to get through the day so he could get out of the office and do something meaningful with his time. He was also super nice when I had to take a little rehab vacation, I refuse to speak ill of Brenden. It just wouldn’t be fair.

Jack, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. He looked like a shorter version of Jerry Gergich on ‘Parks and Recreation’, and had a totally opposite personality from my idol Brenden. You could tell that Jack loved his job and took his small amount of power very seriously. Brenden sat at the head of most of my accounts, but like all power hungry narcissists, Jack took up way more of my time with his nonsense. It seams like the more I try to avoid someone, the more they are drawn to me. I think they call this karma.

Jack had a desperate little minion named Jenna who PRETENDED to be my friend for the first week I worked in her department. I should have known better than to trust her because she was one of the ones who ran around all day. We also had new sit/stand desks, and she would stand at hers and powerwalk all day, which was just as funny to watch as it sounds. Plus she was still fat.

What can I say though, I wanted to fit in. So I talked to her for the first week, after which she promptly began to ignore me. This actually hurt my fragile little feelings. “Dude you know she was just gathering information to give to Jack right?” my new real friend told me one day. Fuck, she was right! And it would explain perfectly the next awkward conversation I had with Jack.

Side note: I considered putting Jenna’s contact info up here, so my friends could harass her for being such a grotesque human, until I remembered her husband. A few months after I resigned from the evil corporation, I actually met this bitch’s husband. It turns out he hates her even more than I do! Looks like she’s doing a far better job of making herself miserable than I ever could. I can’t tell you where I met him because I refuse to let the marriage die and invite the possibility of happiness back into her life. I mean she PRETENDED to be my friend to get ahead at her sad little job.

The awkward conversation with Jack happened after Denny filed that PFA, and I had to file my own against him so I could go to work. So when I did come in that Monday with a black eye, I had to go to Jack’s office and explain what was going on. Luckily, my script of Klonopin had magically renewed itself so it was far less embarrassing at the time.

I can’t remember exactly how I phrased things, but when I got done he said “yeah, Jenna told me that we may have one in the department now”, meaning someone who wasn’t always straight. If it hadn’t been for the benzos I probably would have died laughing on his carpet. As it was, I was super high, so I stayed in his office and talked to him for 45 minutes. Who knows what I told him, but I’m pretty sure I was the first person he’d ever met with gay tendencies.

The first time I talked to Jack in his office wasn’t much better. He told me that he ‘respected what I was doing’. I have a feeling he thought that I was poor and/or stupid and that I was crawling my way up the socio-economic ladder. This made me smile because I probably made more money when I was 21 than he would that year. The trick with people like Jack though was to let them think they are smarter than you. The evil corporation actually had a very discreet and genuinely helpful HR department. So I’m 98% sure that he wasn’t referring to the nine page report that came up when they ran my background. Why they still hired me is a mystery, but I am positive they regretted it later on.

A few months after the awkward conversation where Jack got to the bottom of my sexuality, I went on a two and a half week rehab vacation. The evil corporation gave its employees shitty United Healthcare insurance so that’s all I got, and their disability pay also didn’t consider addiction a disease, maybe the only thing we ever agreed on, so I also didn’t get paid to lie to a therapist.

Jack called me into his office when I got back and told me that despite all of my ‘personal problems’ that he wanted me to start working directly with the finance managers. Now there would be ‘more work’ involved which was fine since I legit did nothing all day. But he mentioned something about having to stay 60 hours a week and definitely did not mention anything about more money.

Was he really trying to pass such an obvious cost saving measure off as a promotion? He sure was. He even said “sometimes the lord works in mysterious ways”.

This was the day I should have quit. Packed up my pill bottles and moved to Canada right then and there. Instead, because I’m dramatic, I waited until the end of the week and overdosed on fentanyl laced heroin at my desk.

When the paramedics Narcaned me back to life, I woke up with a crowd of middle aged accountants staring as a city police officer pulled stamp bags out of my wallet.

That was pretty mortifying, but at least I didn’t have to spend more time at the office and not even get a raise. I mean can you imagine?