Saturday, August 20, 2005

Indecent Proposal

You know the expression “you can’t un-ring a bell?”

A bell has been rung today.

Pandora’s box has been opened.

The day was moving along at a decent clip.  Each of us at work was handed our paycheck during a mini-review and several people were let go.  In the end, 4 people were fired and 2 put on probation.

EH and I were told we were doing fantastic and to keep up the good work.

I was enjoying my underwriting groove.  Relishing the new position and challenges.  Looking forward to moving into my new big office.  EH and I joined PlayBoy and another work pal for an All-U-Can-Eat Sushi lunch and the day was full of light banter and fun.

And then it happened.  PlayBoy rang the bell.

PlayBoy has been talking about wanting a dedicated full-time assistant.  Mostly he wanted a hot chick he could sleep with who would also be a whiz at the job and help him make billions.  We were chatting idly about it when it both hit us that I should be the assistant.  I’m not “the hot chick to sleep with”, but I am the only person qualified to handle his file from conception to closing because I am the only person who has mastered every step of the process.  And PlayBoy and I get along well.  Not “fuck me” well, but still well!

PlayBoy offered me an incredible sum of money.  We’re talking a breath under 6-figures a year.  The kind of money I have never known.  The kind of money that would change my life.  At a job I would enjoy.  With a “boss” (PlayBoy) who is fun, easygoing and never-ever loses his cool.  (Multi-million dollar deal just fell apart?  He chuckles and shrugs and moves on.)

Goddess help me, I want it.

PlayBoy went direct to the owner to pitch the deal.  The owner agrees that conceptually the plan is flawless but says “No” because he needs me too much as an underwriter right now.

And then the owner makes the fatal mistake.  He offers PlayBoy another candidate.  We’ll call her “Bambi”.

Bambi is a hot blonde in the Closing department who has single-handedly fucked up every deal she’s touched.  She’s one of the people that was supposed to be fired today and got probation instead.  Bambi apparently used to make 55k a year and the owner says Bambi is not cutting it in Closing and “we’re going to lose her” if we don’t put her in a better position.

PlayBoy (to his credit) says no.

I came home tonight with my brain in motion.  Knowing this is within reach.  Knowing I could make this happen if I just replace myself as Underwriter…

EH and I fell asleep watching a movie and I woke from a dead sleep with the realization that has stunned me.

The owner wanted to put dumb, blonde fuck-up in a grossly overpaid position and keep me in a position making far, far less than I should be earning.  Me, the employee everyone raves about versus the employee most often threatened with firing.

Yes, I am earning more than I was, but truthfully I am still underpaid and now I am fucked.

Because I have to make this move.  I can’t have had this kind of money offered and not fight to the death to take it.  I can’t allow a person who is far less capable and qualified to surpass me that way without quitting out of sheer principle.

I actually have a few ideas for how it could work, but my mind is throbbing with the realization that this is a “corner” we’re all backed into.  There is no way to go back to being content with my career and no way of moving past this.  The “missed” opportunity alone would kill me.

I coasted all night on the flattery that PlayBoy wanted me.  I thought all night on possible solutions.  And the insult I had overlooked earlier has hit me like a ton of bricks.

Those were fighting words.  And I’m a fighter.

I feel bad because I know I am about to clobber my boss with this.  I can hardly wait to discuss it with her Monday and I’ve been forcing myself not to dial her up.  I know boss loves me as her right hand, but this kind of money is not obtainable any other way except by taking PlayBoy’s offer or fighting for my boss’s job.  It’s that serious.

And I don’t want to be a boss.  I just want to do what I do best and make sick money at it.

I have a feeling the fight of my life is in front of me.  It’s a sort of “do or die” situation because I’m anticipating having to threaten resignation over it.  


Fuck, fuck, fuck.  *Ding*!

Posted by Red :: 2:19 AM :: | ---------------------------------------