“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.
Terri toils all day, stopping for lunch only to eat some stale bread sopped in dishwater soup. No relief until the sun sets and traffic is nil. Darkness envelopes Terri as she climbs aboard the bus. Her mood is black even though her commute is short. A blessing for others, but she sees it as a brief pause before going to another place of toil. She gets home and feeds her hungry latchkey kids. Supper is last night’s leftover rice and beans. Off to bed with tummies full of gas. The next day is another run-of-the-mill, nose-to-the-grind-day.
This movie has a chuckle in almost every scene. The main actors—Vince Vaughn, Tom Wilkinson, and Dave Franco–have great chemistry together. Vince plays a high performing salesman who decides to quit his job because he feels unappreciated and has had no time to spend with his family of two kids and wife. As he goes to the parking lot to leave, he comes across Tom, who was let go that same day because of his age (67 years old). Vince also meets Dave, who had just interviewed with the company, and was heading out. Still feeling charged from having the courage to walk out, Vince declares to the two that he is starting his own business and he asks them if they want to join in. They do, and more funny stuff happens. Continue reading
When my kids were just learning their abc’s and 1, 2, 3s, I thought I’d go back to school to get a third degree. I was burnt out at my then current part-time job. For almost two years, I had my fill of filing, printing out flyers, and inserting brochures in folders. So many forms, folios, ad nauseam. I actually thought the company I worked for owned acres of forests.
I had an epiphany one slow Wednesday afternoon. While the clock ticked and the rain drummed outside, I had jerked myself awake just before my face thudded down my desk. I had to reorient myself and saw the stack of folders I had yet to fill. Suddenly a vision appeared before me: I was entering my home, calling out, “Honey, I have work to do tonight. Will you be okay with pot roast and baked potatoes instead of the lamb de flambé and scalloped little potatoes and crème de brulee? I have to fill 200 folders by tomorrow.” Continue reading