Читать книгу TIP - Dave Gordon - Страница 15

“You know, Bri-man . . . I think you’re a great guy, right?” The slurring words came out of Chris Conroy’s mouth.

“And I really hate to be the one to tell you, but since you’re a great guy and all, I can’t let you walk in there tomorrow without knowing.”

Brian stared intently at his director of sales.

“The company is moving in a new direction, and unfortunately, they’re going to be letting you go. Word has it that it’s going to be about 10 from sales. I’m really sorry to be the one to tell you, but I thought you should know.”

Brian tried to remain composed.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he stammered.

Chris Conroy just shrugged.

“Can’t tell you much more than that. I just heard that a RIF is happening and 20% of the entire company is being let go.”

“RIF?” Brian asked.

“Reduction in force. Company is in the red, and the higher-ups need to see profits in order to be attractive to potential buyers. So, they’re tightening their belts and letting go of anyone not considered valuable to the new direction.”

Brian wanted to ask Chris so many questions. Why him? What new direction? What did he mean? Brian had never missed a quota in 10 years. Did they realize at 39 years old he had a wife and three kids to support? The knot in his stomach tightened, and he had the overwhelming urge to throw up.

“What do you mean, a new direction?” was all Brian could ask.

“Not sure what they mean,” slurred Chris. “All I know is, the big cheese is sending out an e-mail tomorrow, and if you’re on the list, you’re gone. The little cutie from HR who has a crush on me told me you were on the list. We’re supposed to have this conversation tomorrow after you get your e-mail, but I just thought you should know now . . .”

“Are you on the list too?”

Chris hesitated. “Umm. Well, no.”

“So, what is this . . . a farewell drink? Is that it? Is that why you took me out tonight?” Brian’s voice was getting louder. “Firing me in a public place so I wouldn’t react?”

“I’m sorry. I really think you’re a great guy. But the numbers just weren’t there. It was really close though. Quota unfortunately was the bottom of the scale . . . the minimum.”

Before Brian could respond, the bartender came over and stood in front of the two men.

“Seems to be getting a little loud in here for a Tuesday night. Everything okay?” he asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Brian answered. “Just fine.”

“Good,” the bartender responded. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

“No . . . actually I have to go,” said Chris. “Not feeling too good.”

Chris slid off the bar stool and quickly grabbed his bag and coat. He gave Brian a quick pat on the back, as if to say goodbye, it will all be okay, no hard feelings, and please don’t hate me, all at the same time.

“Just put it on your expense account,” he slurred. “I’ll okay it when it comes in.”

Brian didn’t even look up as Chris headed out the door.

What was he going to do? Was he really going to be fired? Maybe Chris got his info mixed up and he really wasn’t on the list. His mind began to run through every possible scenario of what the next day was going to look like. He imagined it all a mistake. He imagined how he was going to look and act as he read the computer screen telling him to get his stuff out of the building. Would they really fire people by e-mail? Brian imagined how he would get revenge. He’d find a way to shut the damn company down. He didn’t know how, but he would. He was angry . . . confused . . . furious! But, he had no one to direct that anger towards now that Chris had left the bar.

The bartender walked back over after taking care of the couple at the end of the bar and once again stood in front of Brian.

“Your friend have a little too much to drink?” he asked.

“You could say that,” Brian responded.

“Looked like a little more than that, though. You guys were getting a little heated. Seriously, is everything okay?”

“No, not really.”

Brian paused.

“I’ll take another beer when you get a chance.”

The bartender grabbed a beer out of the cooler and popped the cap with his silver bottle opener. He placed it in front of Brian and then waited.

Brian paused for a few seconds and then let it out.

“That guy said I am about to be fired tomorrow morning. He said I’m on a list of people who are being let go. I’m not sure if he’s right or wrong, but being that he’s my manager, I don’t think he’d tell me if it wasn’t true.”

The bartender stared at him for a moment before he responded.

“I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Hey Jack . . . Brian.” He gave the bartender a half-hearted handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Brian. Welcome to Crossroads. Look, whatever is going to happen is going to happen, so you can’t dwell on the possibilities, unless there is something you can do about it. I have a philosophy about moments like this. Want to hear it?”

“To be honest, Jack, not really. Philosophies are great in theory, but if you were the one being fired, I think you’d be singing a different tune.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll get you the check, then.”

Jack the bartender went to the register and rang up the final tally.

Jeez. The guy couldn’t even pay the check when he knew I was being fired the next day, Brian thought. “I’ll okay the expense when it comes in.” Damn right you will.

Jack put the final bill on the bar.

“Last round was on me,” he said, “sorry about the bad news.”

“Thanks.”

Brian opened up the bifold containing the bill and saw a tab for 35 dollars. He did the calculation in his head. What should he tip? Normal service is 15%. Good service is 20%. It was good service. 20% would be seven bucks. Brian filled out the tip, signed the check, and put it back on the bar. As he gathered his things, Jack came over and said thank you before even opening the bifold. As he walked back to the register and opened the booklet to ring the tip amount into the register, he stopped and turned quickly around to face Brian.

“$35 tip. That’s 100%,” he said.

“Yup.”

“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Not a problem,” said Brian as he picked up his computer bag, “Chris can explain that one to the finance department when I’m not there.”

“Listen,” said Jack, “could I get your business card? I do an e-mail newsletter, letting people know when we are having specials and things like that here at the bar. Plus, I write about things once in a while that you might find interesting.”

Brian pulled out his business card and tossed it on the bar.

“Won’t be worth much after tomorrow, so feel free to send whatever you want. A virus would be nice.”

Brian decided he would not tell Jen until he knew for sure. Seeing how it was only one day away, or more like 12 hours to be exact, why give her an extra amount of worry in her life? The only thing worse than getting fired, Brian thought, was the rumor that you are about to be fired.

Brian got into a cab and headed for home. Tomorrow, Brian thought, would be a very long day.