Weirdest morning of my life

Diary

The Day of Reckoning: massive layoffs at Minute Maid. Not pretty.

We didn't know how many of us 40 R&D types they would axe, or whom. Could be 5, could be 15. The atmosphere when the 9:00 start time rolled around was exactly that of the expectant battlefield: the Unknown awaits, it is not friendly, some of us are scared witless and weeping, others stoically await, and above all some of us will get slaughtered and the ones left standing will suffer a shock that nothing can prepare you for.

One scientist of my group was the second to get pulled into the director's office and summarily canned. I wasn't even invited into the room when it happened, and my first inkling was when she came to my office and told me. I consoled her the best I could. She seemed OK, but you never really know.

I was the fourth or so to get canned. I'm sure the director wondered why I took it so well. The financial package amounted to more than I made in my first 6 years of work life. Then, a few confirmatory phone calls later, I told him I had a new job lined up. He seemed oddly relieved.

It went on all morning, and there was indeed wailing and gnashing of teeth. We lost 40%. People who had worked and traveled together for decades made their final goodbyes in the vinyl hallway under fluorescent lights and then were just gone, into the sunshine.

Of my (ex-)own group of 6 scientists, here's the score: lost 3, kept 3 including one promotion for which I had pressed for a long time. Be happy, I told myself, the promotion was a nice touch to go out on.

It was 11:30--I had had enough. We had lost 16 by my count, 40%. My pride was a little bruised, but I was well compensated, and trading my self-respect for pay is all too concise a summary of my 8 Minute Maid years. At least this time the rate of return is better. Their kicking out several people I had hired does make me angry. I'm glad for the ones remaining.

I turned off my computer for the last time, gathered my severance envelopes, and turned the office lights out--but my (ex-) phone rang. I sighed and went back to answer it. It was my new company, telling me they would cover closing costs for selling my house. The same house I'd already sold, for over the asking price, two days ago.

I ordered a nice lunch at Panullo's on Park Avenue (Winter Park). Dazed as I was, I once or twice scared other diners with slightly desperate, maniacal laughter...