Dear Boss: You're Fired
Ever had a great job that you were tempted to leave because of a horrible boss? (Yeah, us too.) Wouldn't it be nice if you could just hand her a pink slip and ask her to gather her belongings while security escorts her outside to her Mercedes? (Clearly, this thought has never crossed our minds before.)
Well, today, being April 1 and all, we've turned the tables on the employer/employee relationship, and gave one of our readers the chance to fire her boss. If you've ever wanted to kick your manager to the curb, read on, and then dream up a termination letter of your own. (For the record, we don't recommend actually sending it.)
April 1, 2012
I regret to inform you that today will be your last day as my master torturer captor bully boss. Yes, this is your official notice of termination, effective immediately. While I realize that it’s traditional for the boss to issue these types of letters, I believe that custom has become outdated, and frankly unfairly favors the employer. So today, the tables have turned.
You’re probably thinking that terminating someone requires due cause. And I agree. So let’s start with the basics.
Although I’ve dedicated the past five years to your success, you still have absolutely no clue who I am, or what I do for the company. If we shared a large office, I might understand. But there are a whopping 30 people in our office, 15 of whom are there on a regular basis.
Despite a constant supply of positive feedback from clients and a minimum of workday 10-12 hours, you continue to neglect me. You’ve never bothered to acknowledge all those times I calmed our largest clients, or bent over backwards to accommodate you, only to find you’d left the office hours ago to beat the traffic on the way to your ski cabin.
Are you surprised I know about your ski cabin? Well, if you didn’t use company resources to furnish said cabin, arrange flights for all your friends and family to join you there, and cater fantastic events (all at the last minute, of course), I probably wouldn’t. What’s that? You don’t remember doing any of those things? Oh, that’s right. You didn’t do them—you dumped them on your assistant (and not your personal assistant, mind you).
You’re probably wondering how we’ll ever survive without you. Funny thing, we’ve been not only surviving, but thriving, without you for years now. I know, you don’t believe me, right?
Let’s re-cap. Remember bonus season last year? The rest of the firm was told things weren’t looking good, and we had to stick together for yet another “lean” year. That’s the same year you your assistant purchased a few new “vacation” homes, two new luxury cars, and made a sizeable contribution to your child’s school. Your bonus must have been millions of dollars. Millions. So, when you looked me in the face (after you looked at our org chart to remember who I was) and told me the firm valued me as an employee, and was grateful for my contribution, what you really meant was “Wow, I can’t believe I can get away with this!”
Touché. Fool me once. But this time, you don’t get off so easy. And, just like all those times you asked me to “turn it around quickly” at 5 PM on a Friday before a long holiday weekend, I’m not giving you much notice. There’s no need for you to come into the office today—not that you’d be here anyway, but just in case. Your services are no longer required.
So, thanks for all your years of service and whatnot. And good luck out there—I’m sure there’s some other firm just itching to pay millions to someone who steals from the company he claims to support, abuses his employees, and is, in general, a terrible human being not a very nice person. I’m sure you’ll be just fine.
But please, don’t use me as a reference.