Wants Me, Wants Me Not...

At first he took it quite well that he was fired. He just kept saying they don't even deserve him.

The call came at nine in the morning. The secretary of the boss called, she said there's a special meeting at ten, compulsory for all. I had my day off that day, but still I had to go in. No matter that I told her I can't get there in an hour, I'm not at home... "It's okay to be late, everyone else is coming as they arrive." I could not have imagined what kind of a meeting is it if it is okay to be late. Now is it important or not? I was already sorry that I wasn't at my presence of mind enough to say that I'm out of town, a good hundred miles away or more, like at Pécs or in Debrecen.
I put on my clothes grunting. I was on duty all weekend, so a day off was due. But compulsory meetings didn't necessarily adjust to the days off of all employees. In exchange they were really rare, and then it was worth going so you would get all news about the future of the channel. But those were announced weeks ahead of time.
I was driving to work with a worse and worse gut feeling. Our director has been removed not even a full month ago, and not exactly in a fair way.
Everybody knew I was his man. I could have even felt in danger about this, but with my buddy we just kept saying that worker bees are always a necessity, and even this way we didn't quite have enough people, making scheduling a nightmare.
Even still I kept saying to myself that my job is such a pain and is comparatively so underpaid that none of the bootlickers would want it. No carrot held out would be enough to get anyone to do it.
Maybe I will be promoted? I even thought of that. My buddy was already on his quit notice time. For a moment I believed I was meant for his position.
What a disappointment it was! A deep spirit of grief greeted me.
- So you were called in too? - asked one of the reporters surprised.
- Yes. But what is this all about?
- You are fired!
- WHAAAAAAAAAAT?

This entry is from the blog of my first love's husband, from last November, just a few days after he was laid off. Nobody knew then what consequences would this event, alas too common in recession time, have on them. My old lover, Sophie wrote about his firing like this:

At first he took it pretty well. He just kept saying that they don't even deserve him, and that he anyways already needed a change. Then after about four days he just cracked. He simply couldn't digest why it was exactly him. Why exactly me? - he asked it a hundred times every single night. We drank wine every day, as it seemed to help his stress a bit. On the umpteenth day I was already shivering from the thought of alcohol, but he was begging me to drink with him, because if he drank alone, he would think he's an alcoholic. And then I was just praying to God every night, as he was snoring all knocked out, that he would stop drinking.
I wish he would rather drink. But now he doesn't allow himself a single drop. He's training every day, he says sports and booze don't mix.