
Pull the PlugMy boss, Grant Whitlock, removed every table and chair from the operations team's area during the company's holiday party.
Then, he placed one stainless-steel dog bowl in the middle of the stage.
"Ops is basically the company's guard dog," he announced. "And dogs don't eat at the table."
The top sales guy laughed and scraped his leftovers straight into the bowl.
After that, Grant threw a black trash bag over my shoulders. "From now on, you're our walking trash can. Make yourself useful."
The room exploded with laughter.
I didn't say a word.
I just tightened my grip around the master access card in my hand.
What they didn't know was that the building's emergency utility approvals, maintenance access, and property management favors all went through me.
They were all living it up because of this "dog" they loved looking down on.
I had had enough. So, I dropped my employee badge into the dog bowl and walked out on them.
I thought, 'After the holidays, no one will be cleaning the mess on those two floors. Let's see how well they survive without me.'