Clear as Douche, Part Twat

The going away party was sadly anemic because members of the Douchebag Alliance who, earlier in the week, were among the most enthusiastic about the event were conspicuously busy doing other things at lunch, like going to lunch with other people at other places with or without buffets.

We heard the fired person's side of the story, and to be honest, I'm not sure what to believe, but the story did leave the few party goers feeling rather cross at THE MAN, and all things THE MAN. No one mentioned members of the Alliance, but I did notice that all of the party goers had passed my preliminary Douchebag Detection Test that I had administered in secret, from afar, using historical data of their individual behavior. In other words, yesterday, I made a quick list of Douche or Not Douche and all of the people at the party fell squarely into the Not Douche section, despite my other hang ups about them. This was comforting.

I feel that it's only fair that I should acknowledge that I have behaved as a Douchebag at times, but I certainly do not have a laminated Douchebag Alliance membership card with stars and feces smeared all over it. So my Douchebag Detection Test may not be the most reliable in the industry, but I try my best to keep it all above board. That's what you do when you are a lost soul, just trying to make your way, earning your living, as part of the machine. I'm far from righteous - I show up late, I file reports to this blog when I should be making money for the company, I roll my eyes during company meetings, and, AND, I'm on ebay a lot. I don't buy anything, I just browse. And with all this in mind, I don't carry the card.

*****

At the end of the day, my group was informed by the Uber Uberboss, that the company was forced to let someone else go for uncorrected, chronic, underperformance and poor attendance, despite the company's efforts to assist the person in righting himself. Another sad cloud cruised in, although this one seems to have little to do with the Douchebag Alliance, and more to do with a single person probably just feeling numb and fed up, but showing up anyway for lack of better imagination. I know. I am this person.

This numb person, a long time ago, was my supervisor, and when I was new and heartbreakingly inexperienced, he took the time to help me cultivate some semblance of skills as well as confidence in myself. As the years turned, I surpassed him in some ways, and I found myself managing him from time to time. There were times when I felt frustrated with him, but I could never ever forget what he had done for me. For the last two years, I noticed him surrender gradually to a place of quiet, isolated, mental quicksand. (note: I've never seen quicksand myself, just heard fantastic stories about it, the first of which was featured on Scooby Doo. In case you need to, here is how to get out of it. Be safe.) He had become more and more numb and resigned, stuck, tired and wilted from whatever the fuck was going on inside his secret life, at his work station, in his heart, in his love of toys, but I never thought he'd let himself go so far that suspensions and interventions couldn't free him, or at least jar him into wakefulness.


I feel for these people, they are my friends and I have come to rely on them in the face of all of their shortcomings and personal difficulties. The person for whom we threw the party became overwhelmed with emotion as we all shuffled out of the restaurant. I know that that person will be a great deal happier in the new work place. For the numb person, I am sending my best. We've had many good times douching around together, and I will miss them both.