A reader writes:
Nothing is as nervewracking in cubicle-land as upper management being sequestered behind closed doors for long secretive meetings from which they only emerge occasionally with glum faces for more coffee and to order take-out. For the first time in my career though I'm actually in those meetings, instead of waiting nervously outside to see who'll get the escorted walk-out next, I'm doing the escorting.
There's all that talk of who's the most flexible, has the most potential, and of course who's the best "team player." I've escorted employee after employee to the office, where the bad news is read from a script much as a judge might read charges to a defendant in a trial. Then there's the nervous bit of shuffling by their desk as you watch them pack with a "no you can't come back, you have to take everything now." The only solace seems to be at the end of it all -- at least I still have a job -- at least for now.
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