It might sound like I was fired...that is not true. I quit with all the audacity of hope of a Barack Obama novel. That's for damn sure.
Anyways, if I was to try to pick out a particular incident that defined my unfortunate internet company's unfortunate hiring practices...this would be it: An incompetent manager and a semi-retarded subordinate with all the creative talent of a CW reality show producer.
There are insignificant times in your life, which are sort-of worth remembering; nothing "life shaping" like a first kiss or the first day on your first job...but the kind of story that you recount amongst friends if something apropos came up.
One such story involves new years 1996 when my friend Rachel J and I signed on to AOL chat rooms, pretended to be an underage girl, had cyber sex with old men, then told them as they were climaxing that we were young boys.
I remember with GLEE when one said "I'm going to report you to AOL!"
I wrote back, "Report what? That you're having cybersex with a teenage boy?"
When they didn't respond, I came back with, "huh...loser"?
To which they retorted with wit straight from Thurber, "FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!"
I guess me and Rachel were the original "To Catch a Predator". Good times.
Anyway, the point of my story...well, there's no actual point, but I do have a ripping good yarn that I would like to recount at a bar one day.
The Story of Ratrick and The Choker
I had been working with The Choker for a little over a year. She was my producer and generally an aimable young lass. Occasionally, during a video shoot, she would interject "would the shot look better if you...?" or, "shouldn't she say the line like this?". But I simply dismissed her suggestions and she generally wouldn't follow up.
I know it was all good natured, and generally came out of a false sense of equality that I had fostered. Sure, she worked FOR me, not WITH me...but did I need to remind her that? As long as she was getting her job done, she could tell me how to write and direct, because frankly, I couldn't give half a shit.
Then she took a two week vacation. When she got back, things changed. It must have been one of those revelatory "what am I doing in my life?" types of vacations. (not the "sit on my ass and watch British Sitcoms", which I much prefer). Her suggestions were now not so easily dismissed and the orders that I gave were not so kindly received.
I told her to make phone calls, she said "why don't you make the phone calls?". I told her to organize a shoot, she said "why can't you help out?", I told her to "be my producer" and she said "Suck my vagina, bitch". Yet, she always protested that nothing was different.
One time, I brought my feelings about this to her attention.
I calmly ask her:
"Are you ever upset at me? I'm concerned that you're holding something in."
"Are you ever upset at me? I'm concerned that you're holding something in."
Her eyes began to water and she started to wave her hands near her head, as if the room had magically transported itself from Los Angeles to the Shara desert. There were definitely no camels around.
"No, nothing's ever wrong. Everything's fine."
"Well, I can tell you're upset with me sometimes, so I was hoping you'd tell me why, so we can fix it"
"I've NEVER been upset with you. Tell me when I've EVER been upset with you!?"
"Well, off the top of my head, what about that time I asked you to make phone calls and you told me 'to make them myself'. Or how about that time I told you to get the shoot together and you told me that you wouldn't do it?".
"OK, fine...those were the ONLY two times I've EVER been upset with you. Everything is fine between us".
She then excused herself and ran out with a coworker. I stuck my head outside, saw her flailing her arms like a drowning retard and heard this snippet:
"when I was hired...this isn't what was supposed to happen!"
OK, I thought. BAD IDEA. Never again will I bring anything to her attention, because she's completely insane.
Well, a few months passed, and she still behaved the same way. Co-workers came up to me and said "Why does The Choker hate you so much?". I always just shrugged. Like Atlas, except much less poetic. There was nothing to be done.
This is where Ratrick comes in. I'll preface this by saying that Ratrick is even more insane then The Choker. He's my supervisor...a short, stubby nothing of a man who tries to rule with an iron fist, yet is crippled by the fear of being replaced. His favorite pastime is dragging me along with him for a 45 minute car ride where he questions my loyalty to him. He begs for constant reassurance; "yes, Ratrick...I'm not talking to management about you", "yes, Ratrick, I DO think everyone else is out to get you"
This is what he said to me the first week that I met him.
We were sitting together late one night and I was on my way home;
"Matt," He said with cadence and mannerisms of a Sopranos character, "If you're my friend, I'm the best friend you'll ever have. But...don't cross me...if you cross me, I'm the WORST enemy you'll ever have". He grinned a faux-fiendish grin and stared deeply in my eyes. "Go home to your woman, Matt". "Have a good night, Matt".
All I could do was leave the "Goodfellas" scene study and laugh. What a fucking douchbag of a pathetic loser.
Anyways, he enters our story one day when I'm having another experience with the lovely Miss Choker.
I was given some stupid shoot to manage. I was also busy doing something else, so Choker took full reign and assigned positions. Per her decision, my position was "sitting on the computer doing nothing".
I pulled her aside and said "I wish you wouldn't tell people what I'm supposed to do"
Normally, a big, fake smile is plastered all over her face. That went away quickly.
"Not to go tit for tat, but you ALWAYS tell people what I should be doing"
Now, my response to this should have been 'yes, that's true, because I'm your boss'...but it wasn't. I just said "I feel marginalized enough and I don't need to feel more marginalized".
She walked out in a huff. Or was it a minute and a huff? I can't remember.
Ratrick immediately popped his head in and nodded towards his car and told me to "get in". Great. Another of his fucking loyalty tests. I didn't need that.
After I was kidnapped, Ratrick and I talked about the Choker. I expressed to him that I thought she was upset with me and that she really didn't want me telling her what to do.
"But you're her fucking boss. Did you tell her you're her fucking boss?"
"No, it would just start shit again. I don't want to go through that"
"I'll talk to her"
"Please don't"
"No, I'll talk to her and tell her it was something I observed"
"Please don't talk to her. This isn't a 'please don't talk to her, but actually talk to her because I don't want to tell you to talk to her, but you should', this is a 'please don't fucking talk to her'. It's only going to make things worse".
"OK".
CUT TO: MONDAY MORNING!
The Choker and I sit quietly discussing our weekends. I visited my brother and I didn't pay attention to what she said.
Ratrick came in and closed the door behind him. "Are you fucking serious?" I thought.
Emotions began to run through my head. Do I shake my head? Do I wave my arms? Is it smoke signals? DON'T FUCKING DO THIS!
He sits down.
"Now, a matter has been brought to my attention. Normally I would bring this to HR, but I don't want to get anyone else involved, we can't look weak".
The Choker looked at me "what the fuck is he talking about?"
I looked back at her "yeah, what the fuck is he talking about? DEAR GOD, PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP".
"Matt has come to me and told me that he's having a problem with you. Choker, Matt is your boss, OK?"
Choker begins to cry. Of course, I thought, what a completely true, yet unfortunately bullshit thing to say, I thought. What an ASS, I thought.
"Matt, do you have anything to add?"
"No"
"Choker?"
"I think MATT should say something, it's his thing"
She looked at me as if I was Hitler raping her dog while setting her vagina on fire. I needed to say something...
"Listen, Ratrick, I respect the fact that you wanted to be a manager in this situation, but I didn't want to do this. This wasn't necessary".
He looked at me with disdain. WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY? Is this a porn film? Should I have slapped my dick on her face and said "suck it whore?" Sure, I may have dreamt about being in that situation, but those are mere idle reveries. A pipe dream, as it were.
I was sitting in a windowless office with half a desk, a hysterical girl and a huge douchebag. I had to chose which person I needed to placate. SHOULD she have been so upset? NO. But I knew this would happen.
Ratrick lost and he knew it. Bad idea, remember? I told you NOT TO DO IT. It wasn't worth it homey, and now you have one angry employee and another one who is crying so much she can't breathe. He needed to retreat, and like a Frenchman, he backed out of the room.
"OK, you two..." If I was writing the situation, he would have thrown down something that exploded and ran out. I closed the door behind him.
She was crying so hard that she couldn't breathe. She was literally choking on her words...I felt like she needed to go to a hospital..."I--I--I--need to go home". This is what you get when you NEVER talk about what's on your mind...NEVER tell people what you want in life. You can't do that. You don't bottle up all your feelings until you are pushed to the point of exploding in an emotional fireball. Talk about things, tell me I'm being an asshole, whatever. Even if I don't change, at least you have the pride of knowing you told me...Jesus Christ.
Yes, I've been in therapy for 15 years. The idea of being crumpled up into an emotional ball is repellent to me. You end up being another loser holding back, choking on your own words, crying in a windowless room with half a desk at a go-nowhere job working for some guy who doesn't care how your weekend went.
Anyway, I calmed the Choker down and she let loose on Ratrick. "how dare he" this and "what an asshole" that. The funny thing is, I felt the same way. Yes, he said what was on my mind, but it wasn't worth it. I tried once before and failed. The job didn't mean enough to me to try again. This wasn't a marriage, there were no long term considerations.
So, oddly, the Choker and I are closer then ever. Sure, it's purely due to mutual hatred of a common foe, but hell, Stalin and Churchill were friends for a while, what about Manson and the Choker? I'm way sexier then either of those two, anyway.
Ratrick pulled me aside the other day and said "let me take you for a ride"...another car-stravaganza. I didn't want to go, but he told me "15 seconds of your time". Those 15 seconds became 30 minutes.
He said "it seems like you and the Choker are banding together against me".
I assured him that wasn't the case, and more importantly (to him, at least)...I wasn't talking about it with management. It was his fuck up, he knew, and he was scared that someone would find out.
He ended our conversation with a lovely little threat; "don't complain about this to management. They told me they wanted to replace you and The Choker because you complain so much". Two hours earlier management told me I was the most important creative person at the company...so Ratrick can suck his lies.
Anyway, I left the car and my phone rang. It was the Choker.
She said "Are You Alone?"
I said "Yes"
"Well, I was calling because I saw Ratrick dragged you into the car again. I thought I could call and you could use it as an excuse to leave"
I smiled and thought "Thanks Ratrick. You might be a huge, loser douche, but you sure know how to make people come together...even if it's because they both hate you with a passion".
I don't think I'll ever have a problem with The Choker again.
POSTSCRIPT: As I mentioned, I quit. Ratrick spent the next month pacing back and forth pondering his reason for working for such a craphole company. In turn, he was fired. Champagne bottles were uncorked and parties were had, but I truly believe that Ratrick was the victim of an unfortunate circumstance: thrown into a job he was entirely unqualified for with crazy people who were more incompetent then he was.
Ain't that America?
I'm sure he's doing better now. I know it must be hard being fired: basically you're told YOU ARE NOT WORTHY...and what more is life then an 80-odd year strech of trying to prove your worth? But I think Ratrick handled it in style. I've never been fired, but I can only imagine what it's like.
As for myself, I tried DISPARATELY to get fired...and nothing worked. Finally I quit, and it was a transplendent feeling. The weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders that day: birds chirped louder, flowers smelled nicer, women presented their vaginas to me, as if to say, "Fine job, Mr. M. You should have vaginas presented to you as a gesture of gratitude".
I cannot imagine anyone being happier then I, at least during the afterglow of quitting. Now, with a financial reality, and the odd fact that I've been offered several high-paying jobs as an internet consultant, which I turned down, the happiness fades into an unpleasant realism, but hey...at least I'm not with Ratrick or the Choker anymore.
As for the Choker, she's still at that internet company. She's stayed there, I believe, because she thinks it will move her career along. And I agree.
"Well, I can tell you're upset with me sometimes, so I was hoping you'd tell me why, so we can fix it"
"I've NEVER been upset with you. Tell me when I've EVER been upset with you!?"
"Well, off the top of my head, what about that time I asked you to make phone calls and you told me 'to make them myself'. Or how about that time I told you to get the shoot together and you told me that you wouldn't do it?".
"OK, fine...those were the ONLY two times I've EVER been upset with you. Everything is fine between us".
She then excused herself and ran out with a coworker. I stuck my head outside, saw her flailing her arms like a drowning retard and heard this snippet:
"when I was hired...this isn't what was supposed to happen!"
OK, I thought. BAD IDEA. Never again will I bring anything to her attention, because she's completely insane.
Well, a few months passed, and she still behaved the same way. Co-workers came up to me and said "Why does The Choker hate you so much?". I always just shrugged. Like Atlas, except much less poetic. There was nothing to be done.
This is where Ratrick comes in. I'll preface this by saying that Ratrick is even more insane then The Choker. He's my supervisor...a short, stubby nothing of a man who tries to rule with an iron fist, yet is crippled by the fear of being replaced. His favorite pastime is dragging me along with him for a 45 minute car ride where he questions my loyalty to him. He begs for constant reassurance; "yes, Ratrick...I'm not talking to management about you", "yes, Ratrick, I DO think everyone else is out to get you"
This is what he said to me the first week that I met him.
We were sitting together late one night and I was on my way home;
"Matt," He said with cadence and mannerisms of a Sopranos character, "If you're my friend, I'm the best friend you'll ever have. But...don't cross me...if you cross me, I'm the WORST enemy you'll ever have". He grinned a faux-fiendish grin and stared deeply in my eyes. "Go home to your woman, Matt". "Have a good night, Matt".
All I could do was leave the "Goodfellas" scene study and laugh. What a fucking douchbag of a pathetic loser.
Anyways, he enters our story one day when I'm having another experience with the lovely Miss Choker.
I was given some stupid shoot to manage. I was also busy doing something else, so Choker took full reign and assigned positions. Per her decision, my position was "sitting on the computer doing nothing".
I pulled her aside and said "I wish you wouldn't tell people what I'm supposed to do"
Normally, a big, fake smile is plastered all over her face. That went away quickly.
"Not to go tit for tat, but you ALWAYS tell people what I should be doing"
Now, my response to this should have been 'yes, that's true, because I'm your boss'...but it wasn't. I just said "I feel marginalized enough and I don't need to feel more marginalized".
She walked out in a huff. Or was it a minute and a huff? I can't remember.
Ratrick immediately popped his head in and nodded towards his car and told me to "get in". Great. Another of his fucking loyalty tests. I didn't need that.
After I was kidnapped, Ratrick and I talked about the Choker. I expressed to him that I thought she was upset with me and that she really didn't want me telling her what to do.
"But you're her fucking boss. Did you tell her you're her fucking boss?"
"No, it would just start shit again. I don't want to go through that"
"I'll talk to her"
"Please don't"
"No, I'll talk to her and tell her it was something I observed"
"Please don't talk to her. This isn't a 'please don't talk to her, but actually talk to her because I don't want to tell you to talk to her, but you should', this is a 'please don't fucking talk to her'. It's only going to make things worse".
"OK".
CUT TO: MONDAY MORNING!
The Choker and I sit quietly discussing our weekends. I visited my brother and I didn't pay attention to what she said.
Ratrick came in and closed the door behind him. "Are you fucking serious?" I thought.
Emotions began to run through my head. Do I shake my head? Do I wave my arms? Is it smoke signals? DON'T FUCKING DO THIS!
He sits down.
"Now, a matter has been brought to my attention. Normally I would bring this to HR, but I don't want to get anyone else involved, we can't look weak".
The Choker looked at me "what the fuck is he talking about?"
I looked back at her "yeah, what the fuck is he talking about? DEAR GOD, PLEASE MAKE HIM STOP".
"Matt has come to me and told me that he's having a problem with you. Choker, Matt is your boss, OK?"
Choker begins to cry. Of course, I thought, what a completely true, yet unfortunately bullshit thing to say, I thought. What an ASS, I thought.
"Matt, do you have anything to add?"
"No"
"Choker?"
"I think MATT should say something, it's his thing"
She looked at me as if I was Hitler raping her dog while setting her vagina on fire. I needed to say something...
"Listen, Ratrick, I respect the fact that you wanted to be a manager in this situation, but I didn't want to do this. This wasn't necessary".
He looked at me with disdain. WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO SAY? Is this a porn film? Should I have slapped my dick on her face and said "suck it whore?" Sure, I may have dreamt about being in that situation, but those are mere idle reveries. A pipe dream, as it were.
I was sitting in a windowless office with half a desk, a hysterical girl and a huge douchebag. I had to chose which person I needed to placate. SHOULD she have been so upset? NO. But I knew this would happen.
Ratrick lost and he knew it. Bad idea, remember? I told you NOT TO DO IT. It wasn't worth it homey, and now you have one angry employee and another one who is crying so much she can't breathe. He needed to retreat, and like a Frenchman, he backed out of the room.
"OK, you two..." If I was writing the situation, he would have thrown down something that exploded and ran out. I closed the door behind him.
She was crying so hard that she couldn't breathe. She was literally choking on her words...I felt like she needed to go to a hospital..."I--I--I--need to go home". This is what you get when you NEVER talk about what's on your mind...NEVER tell people what you want in life. You can't do that. You don't bottle up all your feelings until you are pushed to the point of exploding in an emotional fireball. Talk about things, tell me I'm being an asshole, whatever. Even if I don't change, at least you have the pride of knowing you told me...Jesus Christ.
Yes, I've been in therapy for 15 years. The idea of being crumpled up into an emotional ball is repellent to me. You end up being another loser holding back, choking on your own words, crying in a windowless room with half a desk at a go-nowhere job working for some guy who doesn't care how your weekend went.
Anyway, I calmed the Choker down and she let loose on Ratrick. "how dare he" this and "what an asshole" that. The funny thing is, I felt the same way. Yes, he said what was on my mind, but it wasn't worth it. I tried once before and failed. The job didn't mean enough to me to try again. This wasn't a marriage, there were no long term considerations.
So, oddly, the Choker and I are closer then ever. Sure, it's purely due to mutual hatred of a common foe, but hell, Stalin and Churchill were friends for a while, what about Manson and the Choker? I'm way sexier then either of those two, anyway.
Ratrick pulled me aside the other day and said "let me take you for a ride"...another car-stravaganza. I didn't want to go, but he told me "15 seconds of your time". Those 15 seconds became 30 minutes.
He said "it seems like you and the Choker are banding together against me".
I assured him that wasn't the case, and more importantly (to him, at least)...I wasn't talking about it with management. It was his fuck up, he knew, and he was scared that someone would find out.
He ended our conversation with a lovely little threat; "don't complain about this to management. They told me they wanted to replace you and The Choker because you complain so much". Two hours earlier management told me I was the most important creative person at the company...so Ratrick can suck his lies.
Anyway, I left the car and my phone rang. It was the Choker.
She said "Are You Alone?"
I said "Yes"
"Well, I was calling because I saw Ratrick dragged you into the car again. I thought I could call and you could use it as an excuse to leave"
I smiled and thought "Thanks Ratrick. You might be a huge, loser douche, but you sure know how to make people come together...even if it's because they both hate you with a passion".
I don't think I'll ever have a problem with The Choker again.
POSTSCRIPT: As I mentioned, I quit. Ratrick spent the next month pacing back and forth pondering his reason for working for such a craphole company. In turn, he was fired. Champagne bottles were uncorked and parties were had, but I truly believe that Ratrick was the victim of an unfortunate circumstance: thrown into a job he was entirely unqualified for with crazy people who were more incompetent then he was.
Ain't that America?
I'm sure he's doing better now. I know it must be hard being fired: basically you're told YOU ARE NOT WORTHY...and what more is life then an 80-odd year strech of trying to prove your worth? But I think Ratrick handled it in style. I've never been fired, but I can only imagine what it's like.
As for myself, I tried DISPARATELY to get fired...and nothing worked. Finally I quit, and it was a transplendent feeling. The weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders that day: birds chirped louder, flowers smelled nicer, women presented their vaginas to me, as if to say, "Fine job, Mr. M. You should have vaginas presented to you as a gesture of gratitude".
I cannot imagine anyone being happier then I, at least during the afterglow of quitting. Now, with a financial reality, and the odd fact that I've been offered several high-paying jobs as an internet consultant, which I turned down, the happiness fades into an unpleasant realism, but hey...at least I'm not with Ratrick or the Choker anymore.
As for the Choker, she's still at that internet company. She's stayed there, I believe, because she thinks it will move her career along. And I agree.
She'll be in the latrine in no time...but I do believe that's what she deserves.
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