I’ve always been indifferent to the tax status of companies in this country. I’m white, middle-class, and apathetic about most things. How a corporation wants to play lawyer ball is one of those things. Honestly, if you decided to point at a skyscraper and call it a person, the only thing I would care about is if you had any more sweet cheeb. But that’s me. It wasn’t until I put in my two weeks notice at my last job that I realized companies actually are like people. Dumping my job was a lot like dumping a girl, and when I say “a lot,” I mean almost exactly.
If someone ever finds the perfect way to initiate a breakup, they should be shot. There is nothing more agonizingly awkward than telling people they’re not even worth your company. No one should be spared having to say those cringe-inducing first words of a breakup conversation. “We need to talk.” Just reading that makes me pray for sterility and $400 dollars on retainer. Your superiors and significant others know nothing good ever comes after that sentence. People say quitting your job or dumping someone is best handled like pulling off a bandaid. Do it quick, minimize pain. That’s terrible advice. I’ve never heard a bandaid get petty and desperate when it was time for us to part ways. If it did, I would seriously question reality and set the thing on fire as a slight against nature. You can’t do that to people.
Never Ending Questions
In a perfect world, the day I decided to quit my job or dump my girlfriend would play out like an ’80s movie. I’d break the news, “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” would start playing, and I would throw my arms into the air with double one-fingered salutes as I walked out the door. Sleep with Brooke Shields, roll credits. Bliss. But that doesn’t happen. Instead, you have to write a letter explaining why you’re leaving, and it pretty much reads like a breakup text you would send in college. Yes, I sent breakup texts. Two-month college relationships aren’t real and neither were my feelings for any of those girls. No harm, no foul. Then, of course, you need to have a conversation reiterating everything you just wrote as if they couldn’t fathom anyone ever wanting to leave. This normally coupled with desperate attempts at keeping you around with promises of things getting better makes the whole process about as smooth as a sandpaper condom.
The “Two Weeks”
One thing I’ve never understood about leaving a job is the two weeks notice. Why the hell would you want me, who has no desire to be in your presence, all up inside your precious money-maker? Ladies, the same question applies. The two weeks notice is definitely more awkward than breakup sex. It’s kind of the same, except imagine you’re on your back, half-flaccid, and you can’t break eye contact…for two weeks.
Leaving contractual employment is a little different than quitting a normal job. You may find yourself in a position where you and your significant other or company have been together a while, and things are looking good. You may want to take things to the next level and bring the law into this great relationship to validate your commitment. “Great idea!” said no one, ever. A contract is like a marriage and breaking one is like a divorce. You better have thick skin, patience, and deep pockets if you’re ready to lawyer up and play that game. Breaching these commitments is normally pretty nasty, so the job you are bouncing for better have all the perks of a silicone filled mistress. Get it…perks? Like boobs!