I reread Colin's e-mail... I can't believe how honest he was...
a dickless fuck wrote:
Hey Steve,
I wanted to talk to you in person about this but I fear conflict SO much that I couldn't bear to confront you face to face.
It is about working from home. You are getting things done. I can not deny that. Nor can I deny the fact that I wear crotchless panties to bed, because they make me feel better about the absolute lack of manhood that I display in my everyday life.
Rather than giving you some sort of reasonable explanation as to why you can't continue to work from home, I'm going to make something up, in the hopes that it won't get you mad. Perhaps I'll just say something ridiculous like "Because of the size of Lime now, it would be far better if you could come in. Just having the three of us is uncomfortable. Four seems to make a big difference." Even though you and I both know that there's really no difference between three and four employees sitting in a room while I run the company into the dirt. I just can't bring myself to admit that I miss the illusion that I'm in control of the company, because I think maybe you'd take it the wrong way.
Instead of telling you that you're fired, because that would bring up that nasty conflict issue again, I'll just spew more bullshit, and say that working from home is not working out for *me*. However, in an attempt to make myself seem like the good guy in this whole situation, I'll pretend that I'm harboring the delusion that you might, in fact, move out to Jersey City, despite the utter clarity with which you told me that you were against it. Then I'll try to make myself look like a caring boss, by pretending to "understand if the commute is too much for you and you want to move on." However, since I know that without you, my meager web design shop has ZERO capabilities, I'll also extend the olive branch of future freelance work. What I pretend to not realize is that you'll rape me on future rates, due to the bullshit way in which you're being treated.
Again, under the guise of being a good guy, I'll pretend it's going to take you until January to make up your mind. If you do decide to move on, I can give you 4 weeks notice, instead of the severance package you deserve for putting up with my shit for the last few years. I do apologize laying this on you at this time of the year, but it was the only time where I could guarantee that you'll be out of town, and unable to punch me in the gonads.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cower in my closet
Colin.
P.S. Your Bonus will be going out with your pay check next week. Please don't punch my gonads.
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colin anton oh-shel
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