"What the Fork Was I Thinking"

Chapter III

It was evaluation time. I had been at my new digs for a year. I had slaved for 30 years at my last job, and we had evaluations like every other business entity in these corporate/capitalistic United States. So I knew the process.

My new employer was changing its evaluations from a subjective one where everyone gets 4's or 5's on a scale of 1-5, 5 being the best, to objective ones [ yeah, right ] where you're graded by your actual performance. [ yeah, right ] Believe it or not, my new company is 3 years behind the times; why they hadn't implemented this already was surprising to yours truly.

In the beginning, my old company had had meetings with the management to explain the new process. We gathered at one of the cafeterias which had a large private dining room. The loss-control manager was giving the presentation to our group of managers which numbered around 40 or so, the usual suspects:

"Hello, as most of you know, I'm Hatrick McDonald. I see some familiar faces. v.c., how you been doing? Still leading the company in slips and falls? And team members who break their legs while simulating sliding into third base, when actually gliding ungracefully under the coke machine and landing in the drain underneath."

"Fork you, too," I was thinking but, instead, said aloud: "you gotta love this guy! Fine, Hatrick. And since the company came to their senses and put some forking slip proof goo around the drink area, accidents have been reduced to almost zero. Btw, the goo is coming up and there are potholes everywhere."

"Thanks for letting me know. I will call the company and have them fix the problem, pronto. You know we have a life-time warranty with the 'Louisiana Floor Goo Company,' whose motto is:

'Having slips and falls
Do you got da balls
To make the calls

To Louisiana Floor Goo
Where we make it safe for you
And Boo too.'"

[ yeah, right I'm thinking ] Especially when I saw Lonesome George, the eccentric and enigmatic maintenance man, mumble something under his breath. Must have been funny, whatever it is he said, because he had a huge grin on his face.

"Hatrick, is this the same company that said their light bulbs lasted for 2 years? The ones we put in the dining room, ya know?" asked one of the group.

"No, that was the "Louisiana Light Bulb Company." Unfortunately, they are no longer in business. We made a mistake so moving forward.

Let's get back to why we're here. We are instituting a new grading system for evaluations. Hey, I'm getting graded, too. Yeah, that's right. My boss is grading me. I have strengths, and I have weaknesses. I may be good in communications, but in leadership I may be lousy. So my superior would rate me a 4 in the former and a 1 or 2 in the latter. Conversely, v.c., shirley, there's something you're good at."

The crowd roared. For some reason, I failed to catch the humour.

Hopefully, you, the reader, catch the drift of the new grading system. Another tool to screw the masses. Not only am I the President but am also a charter member. And my new company wanted to meet the Prez in the judicial branch of our corporate offices, so we could get down to business.

My appointment was scheduled at 4 p.m. eastern standard time. My boss, the honourable [ yeah, right ] general manager, was giving the review. In the afternoon I received a call from the aforementioned. 11 a.m. [ est ]

"Uh, v.c. this is Waddell! Would you like to come up now and get your evaluation early? I have some extra time!"

"Uh, Waddell. We're busy in the store; I can't come now." Translation: It's another wacky day in the food biz, and me and the team are trying to take care of the guests.

I'm sure he was disappointed. Shirley, he was frothing at the bit to get my ass in his office, so he could further ridicule/humiliate/chastize/denigrate me for his sadistic pleasures, er, share with me his admiration for a job well done, while rewarding me handsomely with a remunerative package that would dazzle yours truly. If you believe the latter, you are more forking naive than me.

At 3:55 he gave me a phone call to remind me the bewitching hour was nigh.

"I'm in the corridor, now, Waddell."

I entered his office and was greeted with a cordial:

"Have a seat, vee."

Sitting down, I wondered if I would have an uninterrupted one-on-one with him, or would I have to endure his many phone calls via the blackberry or guest appearances from every Tom, Dick, and Harry.

I would soon know my fate. Luckily, I had purchased two tubes of k-y jelly in advance. I would need it.