Welcome to Sarah’s farewell party! As you all know our star performer is moving on to greener pastures. Sarah, while I wish you all the best for your future endeavors, it feels a little like you are dumping me, a second time, but, of course, we didn’t write any vows to have and to hold each other till death do us apart, right? Haha. DOESN’T OUR FRIENDSHIP MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU, SARAH?
Sorry, I came on a little too strong there. Am positive you’ll take to the spiffy city crowd sooner than you can say plaid flannel in whose company you are leaving me to rot. Guys, no, it wasn’t a slight on you. That’s just your innate sense of style. Nothing a subscription to GQ can’t fix. But, forget I ever said it. This party is for Sarah. Let’s talk about her and how beautiful her smile is, how svelte her figure is and how kissable those lips are.
I am being a dick? People, don’t let my biceps distract you from the fact that I am only human. Behind my washboard abs beats a romantic heart. Wait, don’t go! Let’s park our issues for another day. We’ve congregated here today for Sarah. What is it they say, fortune favors the brave? Our Sarah too is daring to go where no one has gone before. Actually, if one were to speak factually, Sarah, doesn’t your fancy employer already have 150,000-odd people on its payroll? So, objectively speaking you are daring to go where 150,000 other people have stepped before. When you factor in attrition, that’s another 10,000 footprints. Doesn’t exactly scream Neil Armstrong.
Anyway, I am glad you are following your heart and taking the road less traveled and I only mean that metaphorically because have you seen the traffic on the Bay Bridge? Ha, good luck with that.
But, I’ve never known you to be pretentious which is why I am surprised that you are putting me through this heartbreak for a meaningless job title. What is it called again? Automation Specialist? Aren’t we all, on a philosophical level, leading our lives on auto-pilot? Does that make me a specialist too? Or for that matter a pilot?
When did you become this self-serving droid, anyway? Won’t you be doing well if you sacrifice your position so a child from an immigrant family whose parents worked three jobs so they could send him to college so he could then graduate summa cum laude be gainfully employed in your place? ISN’T THAT THE HONOURABLE THING TO DO, YOU HYPOCRITE!
Look at you, you’re already speaking in a foreign tongue, like your colleagues up there in that scorched land, the kind that is optimistic about life, about having a job they freaking love, you know, the irritating clarity with which they speak, yes like that. You are becoming that guy from the billboard who asks if your current job is challenging enough. WHY AREN’T YOU MISERABLE TOO, SELFISH CRONE?
But, let’s not spoil what can still be a perfect day. Tell you what, if we leave now, we can hit Vegas by nine. Let’s get plastered and see where the night will lead us, IYKWIM. Let’s do this for old times’ sake. I promise I won’t make a move. Unless you want me to, that is. Alright, we’ll watch Pretty Woman or something.
Where are you off to? Ugh, do you really want to spend your last day huddled in with HR? OH, SOD YOU, YOU BLOODY CAREER WOMAN!