Columns

I Planned An Entire Business Trip Around A Tee Time And A Shower

I Planned An Entire Business Trip Around A Tee Time And A Shower

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned during my time behind the curtain/in corporate recruiting, it’s this: if a company is ever in a position to fuck you over, they’re going to. With that in mind, whenever you have a chance to fuck (read: OTPBHJ) them back, you are required to do so. And thus began my very last business trip with my current company before I jump ship and head to our direct competitor.

Back in August during my first ever trip with this company, I came out to DC-Metro and I stayed in the most glorious of hotels. The hotel itself was meh, but seriously, dat shower doh. If you’ve never had the chance to experience a rainfall shower, stop reading this and go do so immediately. When I found out I was coming back to this area, I knew I had to book the same hotel. It didn’t even matter that I was flying into Dulles, golfing in Manassas, VA, attending an event in North DC but staying next to Reagan.

I had to get back to this sweet-ass, platinum vagine, amazing shower. My company is paying my gas, my (upgraded) rental car and for my hotel stay. Fuck them. That’s what they get for blocking PGP on my computer. I’m playing golf and showering six times a day in this 8×8 spa. When they get around to asking questions about my expenses, I’ll be long gone.

So where did this inspiration to just say “fuck it” come from? A few months back I watched my boss’s boss screw him over so spectacularly that I knew my time would soon be coming, as well. Essentially his ex-wife’s best friend applied at our company just to work with him as a recruiter and then screamed sexual harassment in the middle of the process. He never once harassed her and all of their communication was documented over email, but his boss felt the need to demote him, anyways, based on this groundless claim that had literally zero proof in the real world. After watching him get fucked over like that, I knew it was time to pop smoke and Charlie Mike the fuck out of here before it was my turn in the crosshairs.

Which leads me to today. I had this business trip planned back out to DC Metro and had a good feeling it would be my last one with this company. I also knew that my company hates our competitor with a passion and as soon as word got out that I was leaving for them, they’d kick me to the curb. This is why I dropped my two-week notice to my new boss (who discriminates against Veterans while supervising Veteran Recruiting, wish I was kidding) while she was on vacation and not until after I landed in DC. Half-expecting them to tell me to turn around and go home before attending the conference this week, I decided to pack my golf bag (they covered luggage fee) in the event I was told to not do a damn thing and sit in my room until I had to fly back. With this in mind, I booked a 5 a.m. flight that would get me to DC just in time to make an afternoon round in Virginia.

I know that sometimes playing golf by yourself gets shit on, but it’s truly a relaxing experience when it’s basically just you on the course, a GolfNow Hot Deal and a random midweek 75-degree day. I got around in two hours and headed back to my glorious hotel shower where I threw in a dip and then sat on my ass watching movies (thanks, my company). With a $75 a day budget for food, I grabbed a $1.99 gas station burrito for lunch and fully intend on ordering a filet mignon and having it delivered up to my room this evening. Because fuck my company. Shit, I might even do the same thing tomorrow. Whatever the most expensive thing is on the menu, there’s a good chance I’m ordering that for dinner tomorrow with a few Crown and Cokes.

I’m so mentally clocked out from my current company that I somehow forgot to pack my boots or khakis for this conference. I’ll be in attendance tomorrow in golf pants and either American Flag Sperry’s or Team USA Edition Footjoys. If you’re in downtown DC tomorrow, hit me up. I just might buy your dinner with my corporate card.

Remember, if your company can fuck you, they will. Fuck them back when you get a chance.

Email this to a friend

Kiawah Island Strip Club

I'd rather be golfing. Seattle sucks so I write about that. Also work...ish in recruiting. Shoot your resume to kiawahislandstripclub@gmail.com for any and all job hunt questions.

18 Comments You must log in to comment, or create an account

Show Comments

For More Photos and Content

Latest podcasts

Download Our App

Take PGP with you. Get

New Stories

Load More