Image: Pixabay

Image: Pixabay

“I’m not here to bust your balls. I’m here so we don’t get our balls busted,” the new CEO assured his employees.

Six months later, he saved the shareholders $6 million by letting go 3,000 workers.

Outside the building, sitting on a park bench were two former employees, Sam and Hank. Sam snorted, “Our CEO sure had us by the balls.”

Hank responded, “Yep, he had the balls to make us believe that if we juggled our schedule to fit his deadlines, we’d be having a ball in no time.”

“Turns out he thinks we dropped the ball.” Sam rubbed his eyes so his friend wouldn’t see them misting.

“Got that right. It’s one new ball game these days.”

Sighing, they both stood up and left, scratching their balls.

Fluorescent Light Zone: Flounder

(A simple typo in a work email regarding booking a conference room called the Fish Bowl, because of its glass walls, becomes an object of despair for an unwitting working stiff — in the Fluorescent Light Zone.)

To: N. _ _ _ _ _
From: D. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Date: xx/xx/16
RE: Conference Room Request

Hi N.,
Please book the Fish Bowel from noon to two tomorrow. We’ll have lunch served there too . . . .

(N. forwarded the flub to a co-worker friend for a one-minute giggle and the friend responded.)

To: N. _ _ _ _ _
From: A. _ _ _ _ _ _ _

That’s pretty shitty.


As part of the Company’s Email Security Policy, random checks were being performed that day and the messages above were read by the IT Security Officer, who then had the HR Officer read them. In turn, the HR Officer showed it to D. _ _ _ _ , the requester of said conference room. D. was reprimanded because the error generated an unprofessional exchange that included a swear word. The powers that be had a brief meeting and concluded that such swear word is a gateway to more caustic swear words. As a result, D. was suspended from work for two days without pay and given the arduous project of writing 100 times with pen on paper the name of the conference room spelled correctly.

Moral: Do not flounder or you’ll be filleted and cooked like the proverbial fish jumping from the frying pan into the fire, as can only be experienced in the Fluorescent Light Zone.

Image: Pixabay

Image: Pixabay

Tickle Me Pink

Like a beetle knocked down on its back,
With its reedy legs fluttering up in the air,
Us drones, minions, working stiffs
Flounder about in our tedious routines–

Crunching numbers, pushing papers,
While the bigwigs think of ways
To stretch our time and pay
So thinly, so third quarter results
Can outperform prior year’s figures.

Tickle us pink, why don’t you?

Better than a pink slip . . . I think?

©2015 Karina Pinella