Headcount
Wednesday, September 17th, 2008 | Douchewords
Oh, it’s you again. Hi.
No, no… don’t you… I can see your lips forming the word…
Don’t you dare call me a fucking resource.
There now, the urge is fading. The word is “people”, right?
…
Uh, what the fuck? What the fuck did you just call me?
“Headcount”?
Okay, now I’m really fucking confused. See, I’m pretty sure that when I started here I signed a contract with GiantCorp Inc. Yup, it’s right here – look.
It doesn’t say “the fucking Shuar tribe”, does it? Besides, I’d rather you didn’t “count” my head. Or shrink it. Or whatever. It’s doing important work, attached to my neck, thanks.
Or maybe you’re confused? Maybe you think this is a fucking girl scout troop and we’re about to get on a goddamn bus? Is this that kind of “headcount”?
We’ve been over this before – you work with people. They live, they love, they laugh; they have arms and hands and feet and torsos. And yes, heads too.
I’m sure healthcare benefits would be easier for you to manage if we were all brains in jars, but I’m also pretty sure the “become a brain in a jar” Strategic Initiative would lead to mass-resignations.
Now, at this point, I’d usually offer you some form of foot/rear-end interfacing arrangement, but given the subject matter, how about we skip all that and go straight for a boot to the head?
Yeah, you’re welcome.
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