Closing

I found the e-mail I sent to myself on the last day of work. It seems now all I have to do is copy and paste it - so I will. Hope every last soul out there enjoyed hearing how blessed my cursed life is.

Closing Ceremonies:

Finally, my tenure at the helm of this battleship has snapped shut. No longer will I pass under the shadow of the Chrysler tower – the crow’s nest. No longer will I trounce and prance about ship, putting off my work, until someone tells me to stow my whistling and scrub the deck. No longer will I cram myself into the moldy corner of the bathroom stall and cry over the loss of my innocence and my will to live. I have gained a respect for the inability of cubicle walls to contain sound. I have gained a bumper sticker which reads “Yeah, its got a Hemi.” I have gained a crooked neck and a hatred of the phrases “per your request” and “per our discussion.” I have misplaced several ounces of my vision, and I doubtless need a new prescription.

I got three strikes while I was here but somehow I didn’t strikeout. My first misbehavior was not tucking in my shirt on a casual Friday. Then I asked for internet access… twice. I think my asking a second time offended some and put off others. So there I stood with two strikes for the longest time, almost until the end of time. The day that Greg was returning to Oh, Hi! Oh I helped him pack up and leave. This required my leaving at 3 PM, almost an hour early. Needless to say, when I returned on Monday I found an e-mail detailing how unprofessional I was. As far as I can tell that adds up to three...

No. No. Please someone come reverse time, so I can walk away before hearing what I heard. Today is not only my last day, but others as well. Two ladies are "retiring" today and there is a big cake celebrating the fact that they, like me, will never step foot in Chrysler again. As I stood eating my cake, the topic of inducing labor came up. One woman in the cubicle is pregnant and was talking about how she is due next week. A lady offered up questionable information: that cod liver oil can help to induce labor. Mummers of “Gross!” passed from the crumb-covered lips of many in attendance. The man standing next to me, under his breath, whispers “What got my wife going was Red Lobster and sex.”

I can’t eat any more cake, and bagel day is ruined.



I wrote this to Erica this morning, trying to convince her that our boss was really mad at me. After reading it, she was convinced that I was going to get fired. I had to remind her that today was our last day. Here is the e-mail:

Erica,
I got an e-mail back from Steve this morning after I sent out the daily Issues report. I don't know what I did wrong...
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Wes,

No, that report is wrong, please do it better next time. Learn from your mistakes.
Do you think you are above rules; do you think you are bigger than the company?

You are not, this report is bigger than you. It is worth more than you are. Please take this lesson and plant it in the barren soil of your mind. Cultivate it; return to it daily. If you do not water it with your attention, things will never change.

Whet the dull knife of curiosity. You are letting yourself go, but you are still locked in a cage. This is a duality which cannot be overcome by time but by measured resistance against a life devoid of clarity. Take your alacrity pills and buy a discount motivational quote book. Take a direction and stick to it.

Regards / Saludos.

Steven M. Voorhees
Manager
Truck Product Team Forecasting & Scheduling
email: SDCVS61@Chrysler.com
Tieline: 182-1168
Outside: 448-592-1168

____________________________________________________________________________________

Some people are so gullible... I wrote the e-mail and pasted his signature tag on the end.

And I wrote this poem about our exit interviews, which were today. It lasted only a few minutes, and I just talked to Jody about pictures of her kids and how one of her girls managed to get blue eyes while her and her husband have brown. I tried to waste as much time as I could there, but I was kicked out after only 10 minutes.

Exit Stance
here is the
send-off schedule
the lineup
of excuse-me's

find the right room and
say the right things
and you just might
get out of here
alive

what know you
of exit interviews?

i've done it before

well…
maybe not
but at least i have
my laurels
and my ironed will
and khakis

should i go down
before they need me?
that would show quickness
of thought
pride in ethic
and forecasting

but it might also confirm
that im anxious to leave

dont be dumb
its nearly done
cant you just put off
being stupid
for 2 more hours?

sometimes i swear
but other times just think
how you are the essence
of a devolved being

you were born in a cave
left to die
and
instead of doing the world a solid
you joined a tribe of shrewds

i can see it in your face


here we go
its our last day
and no one’s clapping
or laughing

they’re just spinning
counterclockwise

on a
torture table

wearing expansive labels
to cover their collective
intrinsic deficit of
moral fiber

just put me in the ground

All ready?