#justgeneralawkwardness

[thatwasprettyawkward]

Firing someone or quitting

Quitting, firing, big life changes… When the time approaches, the fear and the anguish and the emotions tied up in it all converge in the nitty-gritty details. At the top of the list is 1.) how to broach the subject, and 2.) where to do it. It can’t just, be, ‘How was your weekend?’ ‘I quit.’ Yet you don’t think about the details until the time comes, and then you’re so distracted figuring out how it’s going to work that you’re barely thinking about this big life change.

The location is the most awkward piece of the puzzle, especially if you work in one of those “open plan” offices bosses are so fond of, which are supposed to inspire collaboration, but really just inspire group YouTube watching and awkward quitting situations. You have to step into a separate room to do quit. EVERYONE knows something is up when you say “Can we step into your office?” It’s like when the mobsters say, “Let’s go for a drive. It’ll just take a sec.” SOMETHING BAD IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN. I would almost rather quit in front of the entire office than simply ask my boss to go into a separate room.

But you do it. Then once you get into the other room, you have to deal with the other person’s super curious, wide-eyed blinking face staring at you. It is the worst! I bet sociopaths really like that moment, the moment before breaking big news. They like to milk it. I personally find it even more awkward than the actual telling of the bad news, so at that point I just unleash it. “I’m quitting right now!”

I remember when I was tasked with firing this poor intern. Well, I shouldn’t say “poor,” I was fully on board with firing her, she totally sucked.

Did I mention I worked with my husband? Some people might find THAT awkward. What can I say, it was a record label, where anything goes, and anyways we were both in charge of the interns. So naturally, I dragged him into it. “Maybe it will be less awkward if we BOTH fire her!”

Well. The morning came, and I was strangely just as nervous as I would be for a job interview, which is the exact opposite of what was happening.

She came into my husband’s office. He gave me the signal, and I slid on into the room and shut the door. That’s all it took! The deed might as well have been done. Judging by the look on her face, she already knew. She looked like someone being beaten up by a gang of hoodlums. She looked as fired as anyone had ever looked. Because you just know that’s what is going to happen when doors are shut.

Still, we had to go through the motions. “This isn’t working out for us,” yada yada yada. The world went white and I have no idea what I said to her, but she politely but dejectedly collected her things and left immediately.

I got an IM from my coworker all the way down the hall saying, “That went great! I think you really let her down easy.” So I guess the closed-door thing was moot anyways. The takeaway from all of this is you should really just quit or fire someone in front of everyone.

[thatwasprettyawkward]

The Public Restroom

Okay, so normally I feel just great peeing around others. Maybe it’s my boozy background, having publicly urinated under street lights, or maybe it's the Belgian in me - I guess Belgians can be slightly uncouth. But every once in a while, if I’m in the midst of a conversation with someone while we are peeing side-by-side in a public restroom, something will trigger inside of me and I will get incredible stage fright. Nothing will come out. That alone throws me into an awkward self spiral. Can she hear that I’m not peeing? Does she wonder what’s wrong with me? How creepy am I, just standing here not-peeing and listening to other people peeing? This is making me not-pee even longer! OH NO. She must think I’m waiting to poop. I'm not a barbarian!

Speaking of which, I don’t poop in public, k? I’ve tried a couple times, just because I think it’s a good life skill to have, but I always end up feeling violated by the lurkers in the next stall. I end up feeling irrationally angry at them for existing in this public place and impinging upon my privacy.

And occasionally the whole ritual of the public bathroom catches me off guard. More than once, I’ve been conversing with a room full of people, at a restaurant, perhaps, to retire to the ladies’ room. Maybe I left the conversation too quickly, because my Internal Awkwometer is not able to compute the sudden privacy and the closed door; all it remembers is having a public conversation with a bunch of peoples’ eyes on me. I feel a stab of panic like “OH MY GOD! I’M URINATING IN PUBLIC!” It takes me a second or two to remember that I’m in a place where that is acceptable, but part of me still feels like two worlds are clashing.