Dealing With Their Nonsense
I worked in the IT department of a rather large firm. A guy I was sort of friends with who worked a couple of desks down from me had kind of a bad attitude and he ended up getting into a long feud with the tech support manager. In his defense, the tech support manager was, admittedly, a stupid cow. He ended up getting fired over the feud. He called to tell me about it the night it happened (I was working on a project after hours, so I wasn’t there when it happened). The next day, my boss called the department into a meeting to tell us that my pseudo-friend had quit, but because he was in IT and had access to all the passwords, they were not allowed to give him two weeks’ notice.
This was, of course, complete bollocks. Everyone knew that he got fired and that our boss was lying through his teeth. So, fast forward about six months later—I had just come through being scapegoated big time for some stuff I wasn’t even remotely responsible for, and I could see the writing on the wall that they were working on building a case to get me canned. Little did they know that I was prepared to deal with their nonsense. It just so happened that I got a job offer through a referral from a friend that worked at another company. So, when the offer came through for about $6K more, I did a little dance, and then I shut the heck up.
My girlfriend was a flight attendant at the time, so we planned a little last-minute getaway between jobs. The day before we were scheduled to leave for EUROPE, I came into work, did my best to close out all my issues, put out any fires I could (for the sake of my coworkers), and then marched in and handed my boss my letter of resignation, effective immediately. He read the letter and there was a long pause—then he asked me when I wanted my last day to be. I looked at him for a minute, savoring the trap, and reminded him that “because I had access to all the sensitive system passwords, I wasn’t allowed to give or take two weeks’ notice”.
His jaw hit the ground. He muttered some sentence fragments, and it was pretty clear I caught him in a lie. The best part was, while we were living it up in Italy a few weeks later, I checked in on my bank account at a cyber cafe and saw that my direct deposit had cleared a check for the pay period for two weeks after I left. So, even though I didn’t work it, I was given my two weeks’ notice in salary. That extra paycheck essentially paid for an extra week in Europe. And that extra week was by far the best part of the trip.
Story credit: Reddit / Ikarian