Your Last Sales Meeting


Ah yes, parting is such sweet sorrow. If only you could  remember how it all came to this. Didn’t they say “Hey, relax, enjoy yourself, unwind, you deserve it.” This was your time to celebrate. Especially after all the B.S those home office pukes put you through all year. Late nights typing up sketchy sales calls, sitting in your car in your underwear at 2:00 am, revving the engine and leaving copious voice mails to everyone in your district. Sleeping with that nuclear tech. Oops! Glad he’s moved on, eh? What did you get for all that creativity? The dumper!

Open bar! Whose idea was that anyway? Throw in a couple of lines and a xanax and no wonder you were humping that HR ladie’s leg. If they didn’t invite that asshole from Double O with the camera, no one would have been the wiser. So you wake up the next morning in your manager’s room with a strange taste in your mouth, your underwear on backwards  and a crumpled dollar in your hand. One last one for the team. To make matters worse, there’s a note on the dresser mirror requesting that you leave the keys to the company car and your laptop at the desk in the front lobby. Don’t stop to say goodbye.

Now what? Go to work for the competition? Seems you forgot about that little non-compete you signed while you were throwing down Jell-o shots at the cocktail reception. So much for redemption. As legal is fond of saying, “When we fuck ya, ya stay fucked!”

Advice? Sure! Create a platform for yourself and share all your knowledge and experience with the world. Let corporate be corporate, that dying animal, and break out of the herd.

If you want to be in an organization, join the Boy Scouts!

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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