Whether you work in a small or large office, it’s inevitable that alliances will form. What may start out as a quick drink after work, can soon turn into a friendship. In my case, my early “friendships” were typically built on a foundation of late night partying, drunken walks home, and the inevitable shared hangover. Today, we call these “frolleagues” - colleagues who become friends [outside the office].
But what happens when you’re fired? Can the friendship be maintained or is it all about the shared paycheque?
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BOOK EXCERPT
“Hello, Bonnie!” I called out. “Good to see you!” She was leaning against her car, her back to me. Hearing my voice she turned around. As I walked up to her, without even so much as a smile, she thrust a Safeway bag at me.
“Here,” she said brusquely. “It’s the contents of your desk. I gotta go.” Without hesitating, she jumped back in her beat-up 1989 Hyundai Excel, ground it into gear and drove away, leaving me alone on the street, clutching the Safeway bag. I watched as her car sputtered and choked, until finally it drove out of sight. Abandoned on the street, I tried to come to terms with the situation. I couldn’t understand why Bonnie no longer wanted, or needed, our friendship. Why wouldn’t she talk to me? What didn’t she want to hear?
I slowly made my way back up to the apartment, taking the stairs to the second floor. I unlocked the door, and as I entered the apartment, I kicked off my shoes, hung up my jacket on the already overburdened coat rack, and dropped the Safeway bag onto the floor. There was absolutely nothing of value to me in that bag. In fact, the few personal items I had left in my desk, I’d completely forgotten about. They meant nothing to me, and if I’d never gotten them back I would never have noticed, or even cared. Unlike the contents of the Safeway bag, I felt my friendship with Bonnie, at least up to that moment, meant something to her.
I flopped myself down onto the sofa; the overstuffed red plush velvet cushions threatening to swallow me up. I sat silently, contemplating, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. For me, this was the first time a friendship was born out of work. Week after week, paycheque after paycheque, my friendship with Bonnie grew. But, I reminded myself, we were two people brought together by one common thread; a job. We were paid to share a small space, day after day, week after week, and work cohesively as a team. I innocently believed our friendship went beyond the limitations of a paycheque. I didn’t want to admit to myself that when my employment at Lesniewski Trichopoulos was terminated, so was our friendship. I naively believed that I could maintain a friendship with a co-worker outside office hours.
END OF BOOK EXCERPT
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