My boss Willard is the King of Maybe. The guy cannot say “no” to anything.
“Will you give me a million dollars?”
“Not right now. But should I win the lottery or inherit a million dollars from some relative I do not yet know of, it is something I might definitely consider.”
During the layoffs there was a guy I said not-very-nice things about named Adam who was laid off to make room for Angela Carrey coming back from a different department. I was not sorry to see Adam go. A week or two before the layoffs, Adam was upset that one of his reports was failed for reasons pertaining to an understandable exercism of judgment in the face of inspecific instructions. This happens all the time, though not nearly as much as it used to. You take your lumps and move on.
Not Adam. Not that day. For five hours he argued and debated a change that took five minutes to make. When considering manhours of various people trying to calm him down, debate him in to the ground, and converse with other parties about the ridiculousness of it all, it cost the company hundreds of dollars. For a five minute correction that he was psychologically incapable of simply let go. It only happened once, but it was the culmination of his self-important, self-rightious nature.
When told that he had been let go, that he would get a two-week severence package (despite the fact he owed the company money in vacation time), and a letter of recommendation, he replied, “Thank you for ruining my life!”
I was informed Monday morning that Adam had found a job at a warehouse that paid well over twice what he got paid at Falstaff. I more-or-less immediately suspected that there was something that Adam wasn’t telling anybody. He was a braggart with an overconfident assessment of himself, his skill, and his importance in this world.
He dropped by the office later in the day. I figured he was there to brag about his new job. Turns out that he since discovered that the job was only a fill-in and that he would not be drawing a regular paycheck.
He made an offer: When he’s not working at this other place, he would come and work for Falstaff. He wasn’t sure when he would be able to come in, but he would when he could.
“So let me get this straight,” Willard wanted to reply. You used to work here. You were involved in a targetted layoff that should have demonstrated the company you are considered to keep in aptitude and attitude. You had a full-time job, but you missed so many days last year that you ran out of vacation time. Yet now you want to work a part-time schedule, when it’s convenient for you and only then?”
Instead he replied, “Well, if we have a special project in the future that we figure you would be a good fit for, and you’re available during that time, then of course we would consider it. But I can’t say for certain what the future is going to look like.”
Immediately upon Adam’s departure he asked “Why can’t I ever just say ‘No way in Hell?’”