The Good, The Bad, The Ugly: Part VII
You’re reading Part Seven of a series. For clarity and flow, start at the beginning. Names in this article have been changed.
The decision is made. In just two weeks I’ll be in New York to let Sue go.
It was mid-September, 2007, and for one of the few times in my life, I knew exactly what I needed to do business-wise. More surprisingly, my personal beliefs were in sync and I wasn’t questioning my morals. Sue had to go, and sooner rather than later. It wasn’t a hasty decision, and I slept on it for several nights to reconfirm that I would not regret my decision.
You’ve probably figured out that I run the business based on two core belief systems: 1. That it is a business, and the goal is to remain a strong player in its field; 2. I want to be able to sleep at night, and the way I run my business must reflect this need. Donald Trump may disagree - he would likely tell me that turning down various partnerships that could bring in loads of dough is downright stupid - but the only one who truly has to live with my decisions is myself.
Two weeks prior to my trip, I ran across a troubling email. Sue advised a mutual acquaintance that she planned to give notice that coming Friday. Her reasons? She could no longer take my ridiculousness (yes, that was the word). She conveyed she didn’t think the resignation letter would bode well, expecting that I’d call her and start my begging and finger-pointing.
I, however, kept my fingers crossed. Sue’s leaving on her own would be the ideal ending to it all - I wouldn’t have to “drop the hammer” and much time would be saved on paperwork. I had already planned on giving Sue a two-week severance just to make things go more smoothly, but if she resigned I’d save that money as well.
Two days later, however, I was caught off guard. After she stewed over her continuous problems about the change in payroll (I would be signing her paychecks personally instead of allowing my signature to be forged), Sue disappeared on a Wednesday afternoon, with many urgent tasks left sitting in the system, untouched. At the close of the business day, I received an email from her personal account.
Sue was resigning, effective immediately, because “the conditions and payment policies have changed dramatically since my date of employment and it is now impossible for me to continue to be employed by the company.”
Conditions? I shook my head. She worked more than a thousand miles away, pretty much dictating her own workday. Payment policies? I was right. She had issues with the fact she’d need to submit detailed time sheets and gain approval prior to being paid. I think my exact thought at the time was, “ho-hum.” It was, after all, right in sync with her most recent actions and comments.
Then, the dreaded…
I’ve always lived by the rule that a job is a job. You give notice, and you follow standard protocol when leaving. My father told me this, and I’ve always gained respect for telling future employers that I needed to give notice to a present employer, no matter how mundane the current position was. My point is, you give two-week’s notice even at McDonald’s, and you return your uniform in person, so you may receive signed affidavit of such return.
Not Sue. She took all the company property in her possession and locked it up in our NY warehouse, advising that she had overnighted me the keys. This really put a wrench in the works - it meant I was unable to access the computer, and had no clue what hanging correspondence might need my immediate attention. She took the phone out of the jack, leaving the line perpetually ringing - not a good sign when clients are calling, especially when they’re awaiting important information.
The FedEx she sent included cut-up credit cards, the keys to the warehouse, and several pounds of blank checks. Of course this was tagged on the corporate FedEx account, those blank checks (which were useless) costing me $68 in shipping.
Sue did everything she could to leave me helpless. And in many cases, for a period of time, she got what she wanted.
I was, however, prepared for her departure. My advanced steps were probably my single-most “best accomplishment” of the year. It took less than twenty minutes to shut off Sue’s access to every online account. It took just two days to turn off all the utilities in New York and have her name removed from all business accounts. I was sure to advise creditors and bank managers of the situation. It took me much longer to find out just which clients were left in the lurch as a result of her actions. My trip to NY was only two weeks away, and I could have flown sooner if I’d hadn’t developed a severe infection that resulted in an emergency root canal and heavy doses of painkillers.
All of our retainer clients were contacted. Many were understanding and were quick to advise me of recent correspondence and where things stood. Some were none too happy, and one requested a refund because they opted to change shopping carts (that request had been sent to Sue three months prior).
When I arrived in New York, I had hoped to get in and get out. My father was kind enough to accompany me; we planned to clear out the warehouse, visit the bank and make a final trip to the post office. We expected the work to take only two days, but upon our arrival (we had the warehouse manager there with us as we unlocked the doors and documented the condition of our unit on tape), we were shocked to find the place in a complete shambles. Despite money having been spent on file boxes, and other monies approved for shelving, the contents were strewn about, carelessly and in near-total disarray. I looked to the manager and asked if he’d heard anything - I thought perhaps Sue had destroyed the place in her final moments. Instead, it was even worse - he shook is head and said, “It always looks like this. I don’t know how anyone could find anything in here.”
It took four days as my father and I pulled box after box off three huge piles, many of the corners crushed and contents damaged due to all the weight that had been carelessly stacked. Tax and bank records were mixed in with boxes of comic books and magazines. Hundreds of copies of publications lay about as if they were worth nothing, while office equipment that had been described as desperately-needed was found still in the original packaging, never having been opened. Some of the durable Rubbermaid containers were cracked and lidless, and crumbs of food were found in files that had been kept at her apartment. Scores of boxes that were to have been disposed of long ago were still taking up space.
Sue called me on the second day, advising that she had more items to return. She wanted to meet at the warehouse after hours. When I explained that we had already locked up and would rather meet at a Dunkin’ Donuts, she griped. Yes, we had 24-hour access, but with the manager’s office closed, I wasn’t comfortable meeting her and whomever she might bring with her in the back of the building, far back from the highway with no one else in sight. She did wind up meeting us, dumping boxes out of the back of her truck. I offered to sign a receipt for the items, but she said she didn’t care, and left.
Between the rental of an SUV, and the purchase of materials for packing (this was a shipping warehouse, yet inside we found no tape, bubble wrap or usable boxes), along with several pizzas and coffees, the closeout ran about $3,000 over four days. I complained about this for a moment, until my father reminded me how much money I’d save by not paying an employee who wasn’t doing her job. He was right.
We closed the doors in NY for the last time in mid-October. It was a cool, rainy night, dark and dank. And yet, as I walked out of that warehouse for the very last time I felt this immense weight just slide right off my shoulders.
Over the past several months there were many times I found discrepancies, and I soon learned to take my moment to kick myself and press my fingernails into my palms, then release and get back to work. I’m sure over time I’ll find many more such discrepancies and even more things will remind me just how easily I was manipulated. I have resolved within myself to no longer look back through time sheets, financial records and the like - it’s done.
Next Up: What I’ve actually learned of this truly positive experience.
