One Joke Too Many
At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm.
"A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see."
Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days.
The room erupted in laughter.
Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me.
"Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"
The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof.
From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense.
They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene.
Instead, I simply gave a calm nod.
The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight.
That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers.
I smiled and said,
"No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."