Letting You Go
…So Arthur, if you could, please collect your things from your desk by 5pm. Janice in accounting will cut you a check on your way out. Again, downsizing is never pleasant, and the company appreciates all the hard work you’ve put in here.
On a personal note, I’ve enjoyed working with you, and I’m sorry it had to end this way. I hope that my firing you doesn’t harm the relationship we've developed over the years. For instance, if we see each other on the street, please feel free to still call me Sir or Mister Haynes. I don’t want that to change.
I want you to know you can always get me coffee. Any time, day or night. If you ever have a problem or need a recommendation, just fill out a slip and put it in the suggestion box, and I’ll address it at the monthly staff meeting. Margaret will cc: you the minutes. That’s a promise.
And, I would hope that feeling is reciprocal. For instance, if I have a problem with the copier, there’s no one I’d rather talk to about it than you.
Maybe we can grab a conference together sometime. It’d be just like old times—you shuffling through reports while I yell at you about a thumb drive I broke. I don’t want to lose that between us.
Please, send along my best to your wife, whose name starts with a B, I believe. You know what? Here’s a couple of bucks. Go out and requisition her a new stapler. On me. But, sign your own name to the memo. Live it up.
Good luck out there, Arthur. It’s been nice supervising you.
