I worked as an assistant manager for a telemarketing company for six years. Over that time, I created all the training documents for new hires that amounted to all of the policies, procedures, and pitches we used to sell the product (subscription seats to a performance venue).
Two managers came and went, both of which I got along with very well. They trusted me because I worked hard, was self-motivated, detailed oriented, and drove sales which meant more money in their pockets.
Ultimately, the company offered me the manager position, but I decided to go back to grad school to pursue a new career. Enter douchebag manager #3. If not for me declining the position, he would have been stuck with the tiny campaign of an obscure venue, but instead he got one of the largest accounts in the company’s portfolio. And, he got me.
He decided to hire another assistant, one of his douchebro friends. Manager was resoundingly disliked from the get—the entire sales staff who loved me were not happy at all. After months of dealing with his shit, I lost mine.
A new quarter was starting and I needed to take a specific class to graduate. He told me, “You can have any shift you want! Just let me know and I’ll make it happen.” Welp, cut to me signing up for the class, and him telling me, “Douchebro Assistant can’t work that many shifts and you’re taking all the good ones.”
So I gave my notice. Not in a scorched earth kind of way because I am way too petty for that. (Don’t fuck with an Aries because we will always get the last word).
When I got home from my last day, I logged into the google drive and deleted all of the documents I’d complied for the last six years. All of the seating information, performance info, parking, disabled access, sales pitches, policies and procedures, tech troubleshooting. Wiped. Gone forever.
And I laughed. Oh, I had a hearty guffaw.
A coworker from another venue told me my manager said, “He deleted all our stuff!” No. Not your stuff. Mine.