Breakout
At eight o’clock, Farley’s morning had started as it always had: fire up the computer, morning coffee, water cooler chat with his co-workers.
And then that happened.
Farley had been summoned to an urgent meeting at nine o’clock in a breakout room down the hall from his office. The ordeal had been all very official, impersonal, scripted. Two people had greeted him: his immediate supervisor, Barbra, and a stranger. The stranger, he’d later learned, was a “termination consultant.” (Farley reflected on that sometime after the debacle: At least he wasn’t sporting a black hooded robe and wielding an axe.) The consultant—Austin? or Dustin?—shook his hand with vice-grip fingers. What’s-his-name was confident. But fourteen years old. Professional. But pimple faced. And artificial as Astro Turf (don’t trust anyone who shows their bottom teeth when they smile).
It didn’t start swimmingly. Barbra commenced the difficult conversation: “Farley, it’s literally killing me to have to inform you of this, but I—”
“Literally?”
“Huh?”
“Are you having a heart attack, Barbra? A stroke perhaps? Maybe you should sit down.”
Barbra’s forehead folded into an interrogation symbol. “What are you talking about, Farley? I’m perfectly fine.”
“Excuse me. My mistake. Then, figuratively, let’s get the ball rolling.”
It, ahem, went downhill after that.
The official reason for Farley’s termination was his drinking. He’d been warned of it several times in the past year. The signs were clear to the team: late mornings, boozy breath, missed deadlines. Most recently, vodka was discovered in his travel mug. Because the company had a zero-tolerance policy, he was issued an ultimatum: get clean or get out. Management had offered him company-sponsored rehabilitation. Twice. Farley refused. Twice. He didn’t have a problem. Besides, despite a few missed deadlines, he was still the most productive member of the development team.
The unofficial reason for termination, however, was a topic that was never broached today. It was the elephant in the breakout room. Farley didn’t trust Barbra; she didn’t trust him. And neither of them had wanted to talk about it. Farley was the most experienced developer on the team, yet had trouble communicating with Barbra. She, in contrast, was inexperienced as a leader. Farley acknowledged a few of her competencies: she was a deft extractor of minutiae, hewer of waste, crusher of spirit (skills perhaps best suited to the earth sciences).