11 a.m.
I walked into HR Robot's office for what was supposed to be an exit interview. All I had to do was get through this meeting, answer her ridiculous questions, sign on the dotted line and walk out the door into a brand new world.
The first few minutes were just fine: Did I have my computer equipment ready to turn in? Did I understand the COBRA option? Was there anything else with the benefits that she needed to explain?
Without thinking much of the question, I asked her if I should file for unemployment right away or wait until my severance runs out.
Then, she uttered the most unbelievable words in this 3-week saga: "Well, since you resigned, you don't qualify for unemployment."
I think I initially thought she was kidding and I was kind of waiting for the laugh, or the slight punch in the arm or the wide grin. Nothing happened. Silence. I just sat there staring at her, my mouth hanging so far open a rabbit could have jumped in.
Finally, I managed to speak: "Um, remember how you laid me off and outsourced my job to India?"
HR Robot, as if she had prepared for this conversation since I first decided to leave: "Well, you could have stayed for the transition and you chose not to. So, that's resigning."
I was ready to jump across the desk and grab her by the hair: "Then why are you giving me severance and asking me to sign a separation agreement?"
HR Robot: "Well, that was already agreed upon. I'm reporting to unemployment that you resigned."
I quickly replayed the conversations from the last several weeks in my mind. She had specifically told me at the very beginning of this disaster, and on at least two other occasions, that I would qualify for unemployment. It was never "You qualify if…" or "You don't qualify should you…"
All of a sudden, there was a giant rock, a very hard place, and me. My mind was racing like an Indy car and my options seemed very limited.
I thought I had covered every base, prepared for every scenario, and written my own ending. And yet, there I was, stunned into next year, unable to do anything but stare at her in disbelief, and plot what I was going to do next. Had there been a mirror in HR Robot's office, I'm sure my own face would have scared me. I'm surprised I didn't combust on the spot and blow up the entire building.
At that point, there wasn't a whole lot I could do. In the final minutes of my employment, Prison Media decided to play their best card. I had been trumped.
6 comments:
I always found "HR Robot" to be quite nice. She had a difficult job.
This is amazing but not surprising. HR people are born in a thermal vortex and are made of equal parts polystyrene and NutraSweet®...
I once had an exit interview where I got to see the HR Robot's mouth fall open.
On three separate occasions (in the span of my three month employment at the place I call "Sexual Data") I had visited with my manager to tell her about some obvious problems I'd seen around the office including sexual harrassment and racial slurs (horrible one's that could have gotten the company into a shitload of legal trouble). My background is the law, so I thought my manager really needed to be aware of what was going on.
As I sat in the HR Robot's office it became painfully obvious that my manager had never reported my conversations or concerns to HR, which was what she was suppose to do.
Too, too funny. The best part? Several years later I got a called from an attorny at the EOE office. The company was being sued by two former employees for sexual harassement. Shock, shock.
HR Robot wasn't bad, actually. I would never want her job, as it's not her decision on who gets laid off. But, I still can't figure out if she came up with the resigning theory on her own, or if she had some help. It kind of reeks of Boss, yes?
Yes, they are told what to say. They have to do the dirty work for the Bosses.
Wow. Great writing Kate. Reminds me of when I exited my last company employment job...my heart raced reading this.The fake love stunk up the room and stuck to my skin literally—with a gooey hug from my boss man. eeeww
Post a Comment