Clever title ain’t it?
DQ has exited, packed up and gone. Oh the fun we had. Not crazy co-worker from hell like Maureen fun, but fun nonetheless.
DQ comes in all smiles. I believe she was totally convinced that she’d just say she didn’t mean to say “I quit!” and all would be forgiven. Delusional thy name is DQ. Anyway, her supervisor asked me to sit in because of the need for a witness and all that. I, being the ever [del]nosy[/del] helpful person that I am agreed to do so. Miss DQ sits down and starts in on how sorry she is for storming out, how she didn’t really mean to quit, how much she just looooooooooooves it here (thinks I, well you should love it here, hell, you don’t do anything, others mostly have been covering for you until they got tired of it, hence the whole thing to begin with! [I ramble on a lot in my head]) and all that there stuff. Supervisor listens politely, thanks her for the apology but lets her know that by policy, when someone says “I quit”, it is treated as a resignation. DQ is shocked shocked I tell you! The tears flow like Niagra Falls. “You mean I really can’t come back to work?” Supervisors says that that is correct. DQ looks at me and says, “Do you agree with this?” (Hell Yeah! Thinks I. [the head voices stay in my head fortunately]) I say instead that it is part of my job to uphold policy so therefore I am in agreement. (Well, hell, I write most of our policies! Not believing in it would like, hurt my street cred.) Oh the water works! Oh the anguish! “Why does everybody hate me all of a sudden! I’ve done a good job! Everybody says so!” (Like hell, thinks I. [Proud that the head voices are staying in the head still]) “Why are y’all (that would be supervisor and me) treating me like this! I need this job!” (Thinks I, we do it because we feel we’re behind in our senseless firing quota for the year. [Again the head voices stay in my head]) “I want to see (name of our Exec. Director), I know she wouldn’t agree with this!”, screeches DQ. Supervisor hands her a letter from dear ol’ E.D. that does, indeed, (insert shocked expression :eek:) agree that DQ has resigned from her job. Much anguish ensues, I’ll spare the words but think, Bette Davis and Joan Crawford both having a hissy fit in the same room and you’ll get the idea. Thus endeth the exit “conference”
Enters our esteemed HR Manager armed with exit paperwork. Ok, it ain’t much, an exit interview form and a form to check off and sign that all company property has been returned. DQ does not sign the exit interview. Big frickin’ deal doesn’t make her any less gone. She throws her office keys on supervisor’s desk, A very nice throw I might add. They landed right in the little metal cup thingy she keeps paperclips in. She’s asked for her cellphone. “I have to take all my personal numbers out first,” says DQ. No need to bother says HR Manager, the phone’s been turned off and will be reprogrammed before anyone else is assigned the phone. “I needed some of those numbers! They were personal!”, screeches DQ. (Thinks I, tough noogies! You weren’t supposed to use it for personal calls anyway, So There! 
[again the head voices manage to stay in my head]) “You should not have had personal phone numbers programmed in a work phone,” says both supervisor and HR manager. At the same time even. I was impressed.
DQ is then handed a box of stuff with all her personal possessions. She insisted on going into her office to make sure she had everything. She is told she can call if she finds anything missing and we’ll be glad to return it to her if it’s here. She leaves supervisor’s office. She proceeds to try to go in offices up and down the hallway. I tell her she needs to leave. I look mean. (I know, how could somebody so sweet ever look mean, but I can when I need to.) DQ says to me, “I thought we were friends.” “I still like you”, says I, (outloud this time) “However this is business and you really do need to leave and not attempt to disturb others who are working.” “Everybody is aware of what is going on, so let’s just make this as easy as possible.” I thought she was gonna hit me, she was looking at me so evil. She left. “Damn, I’m good!” I say outloud. HR manager and supervisor commence to laugh at me. We go in supervisor’s office for a few minutes and just sit. We decompress. I compliment both of them on the way they handled the situation. Everybody (well, except DQ, duh!) was very cool, calm, collected and polite.
Thus endeth the saga of DQ goes bye-bye. Thank you for your attention.
