When I stood in the parking lot trying to get my bearings, something unexpected happened: my legs gave out and I collapsed on the asphalt pavement. I had never before been fired from a job. How was I going to tell my wife? What was I going to tell my daughter? What would I tell myself? That I had been fired? That I was one of the losers in the faltering economy? Only be patient Mr. Topp, the HR personnel told me, and you will find a foothold—a new foothold. You did valuable work for us, Mr. Topp. You were an integral member of our team. If you are patient, I am certain you will go on to be an integral member of someone else’s team.
HR pushed the cream-colored check forward across the desk. I reached for it. I turned and stepped out the door. Then I collapsed in the parking lot. I thought I was having a heart attack or a brain aneurysm or both. One minute everything was fine. The next moment, the rug was pulled out from under me. I was disoriented by a world spinning faster than I could keep up. Then I collapsed.
At first, I didn’t have the courage to tell Adeleine I’d lost my job. I felt guilty. I felt like my nuts had been cut off. I felt that I was a lion who no longer was able to go in for the kill. It was a ridiculous analogy because all I was was inventory control, but that’s how I felt. Then there was that image. I couldn’t shake it from my mind. I had collapsed on the asphalt, so my face was pressed in the hot tar and gravel, the world spinning out of control, and there was literally nothing I could do about it for what seemed like an eternity: the hot sun beating down, though I know it was only for a few moments. What caused me to collapse like that? I started to cry compulsively. I couldn’t control it. I cried for the memory of my mother and father whom I tried to do right by. I cried for my wife and my daughter, Meg. Most of all I cried for myself, and when I couldn’t cry any more, I passed out.
A moment later I was alert again. I shook my leg and pushed myself up off the pavement. I stumbled to my car, unlocked the door, and got in. I found a handkerchief and tried to wipe my face clean; it was smeared black with tar. I fumbled with the keys and when the ignition took, I drove slowly out of the parking lot. I felt my shirt pocket for the cream-colored check. It was still there. I drove around until I found myself in a church parking lot. I slowed the car to a stop and walked across a field to a stand of trees. There was a bend in the Des Plaines River. I walked through the woods and sat on a grass knoll overlooking the river. I sat there for some time just watching the river flow by. I was wondering if I should kill myself. I hardly saw the point of going on. This would be the spot to do it. If only I had my Ruger on me, I could solve this problem.
Eventually I made my way home, and after showering to clean myself off, I found myself slightly dazed at the dinner table with Adeleine and Meg, eating one of Adeleine’s fabulous home-cooked meals as if nothing at all were amiss. I was dipping the fatty end of a steak into her beef gravy and using the napkin to wipe sweat off my brow.
How was your day, honey? my wife asked.
Excellent. How was yours?
Well…I sold a $2.5 million dollar house today in Bucktown to a wealthy young couple. He’s corporate law at some big firm. She’s high-level management in corporate finance—if that’s what you want to know…
At that precise moment I should have told her that I’d been canned from the telecom business and therefore I was a nothing and a nobody and she shouldn’t waste any more of her time on me. But I was still in a state of shock, so I passed on the personal commentary and merely forked a bloody piece of steak into my mouth and smiled at her.
Congratulations! I said. This calls for a bottle of champagne.
After that, we poured a bit of champagne and toasted her success. That night I fell asleep dreaming of vultures picking my pockets.
?
For the next two weeks, I didn’t have the heart to tell Adeleine I had been fired. I didn’t have the heart for any of it: for being fired, for finding a new foothold. I was a na?f. I should have been better at what I did at the telecom business. I see that now, but at the time, I was blind to my own deficiencies. I should have been more proactive. I should have been more adroit at playing office politics. I should have smiled more often. I was a sour puss. I said it like it was. I didn’t sugarcoat the truth. I sat in meetings and spoke my mind regardless of whether or not I made enemies. I was a problem solver. I was hell-bent on solving our company’s problems such as I construed them. Later, I came to see that I had misconstrued what the company’s problems were, and therefore I had spoken my mind contrary to what the real problems in the organization were, which made my bosses look bad.
Then I became a problem, which became glaringly obvious after the Chapter 11 filing when the HR personnel fired me.
In the interim period between when I’d been fired and when I told my wife I’d been fired, I left for work every morning as if I still had a job, but rather than going to work, I went to the racetrack with Cal. Or Cal and I went shooting guns at the range. Or I went fishing by myself on the Des Plaines River for carp. I was trying to regain control of something I had lost, but I didn’t know what I had lost. I might say I lost my entire identity. I didn’t know who I was any more, nor did I know what would become of me. I feared what would become of me. I went from a man who was filled with confidence to a failure who was fearful of every little thing. One day, after losing several hundred dollars at the track, I decided it was time to tell my wife what had happened.
I explained that I had lost my job. I was collateral damage. I used those exact words to explain my situation. I was collateral damage of the collapsing economy. I told her about the cream-colored check, which was a laughably small amount.
After that money runs out, I said, if I don’t have a new job I don’t know what will happen to me.
You know we don’t need to worry about money, she said. Take your time, Art. Find a job that you are interested in. Be patient. Now is a wonderful opportunity for you. Now is your time to define for yourself. Go out once and for all and find out who it is you want to be.
I want to be me, I told her.
Then be you, Art. Be the best you you can be. Our cash situation is such that there is absolutely no pressure. And if you’re wondering if I still love you…
Yes…
I do.
?
But there was pressure, because there was nothing I wanted to be. I certainly didn’t want to get fired again from an HR personnel. Nor, for that matter, was I eager to try to win a job from another HR personnel. I took my payout and I filed for and collected unemployment, and I drove around for months looking for new work. I had headhunters working for me.
Adeleine suggested teaching, and I laughed at her without even giving it a second thought.
Then one day, I was at an interview at another telecom, and I got into an argument over whether or not I thought I could use the computer programs available to advance the business in the direction to which it needed advancing.
What direction is that? I asked. I still had a chip on my shoulder, and it showed. North, South, East or West?
Are you serious, Mr. Topp?
Yes.