Thank You, [Name] For Coming In
Fiction.
I was very good at my job. I think it’s because of the shape of my face. I have a round face. Some have described it as a harmless face.
I am older but not graying. My eyebrows arch gently. I am a white male, but not the executive type. I’ve been told that I look like the Whirlpool Repair Man from the commercials — friendly, Midwestern, a little plump. Like a younger version of a greeter at Walmart. I have a very earnest smile, and I smile a lot.
My job was to calmly inform people that they no longer had jobs. Corporations would hire my outfit to handle the task of right-sizing their workforces. We would take care of all the bric-a-brac, right down to the face to face human encounter where a person would be told that they were no longer employed.
That job was my job.
This is how I would start: I would enter the person’s office, introduce myself. “Thank you, [Name] for coming in. I have some information regarding your organization that I want to tell you in person.”
The odd, scripted formality of the words would inform people right away of what was going on. It was less like a hammer falling and more like a confirmation of what they had been suspecting for a long time. They already knew it was going to happen — in their hearts, some people were actually relieved.
“As you know, [Company Name] has been having a challenging year and is focused on reducing costs. We’ve had to make some tough decisions all around, eliminating a number of positions. Your position is one of these being eliminated.”
In other words, this has been hard for all of us and there is no ambiguity. You have to go now. I never say “please” or “I’m sorry”, because people need finality — closure — before they can completely move on.
[If needed:] “This was a very difficult business decision supported by senior management.”
[If needed:] “This decision is final.”
“[Company Name] appreciates what you have done for [Company Name]. What is important now is to focus on what is next for you.”
This is the most important part of this process: Transition. See, I never saw myself as an executioner. I don’t flip a switch on an electric chair. That’s not what I am.
My goal was to help people see what’s outside that newly opened door. And it’s a tough thing — you feel like the rug’s been pulled from under you. But what everyone needs to understand is that this can be a whole new beginning for them.
“Now, we need to discuss your severance package and your continuing health coverage through COBRA.”
Immediately show them that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. That they are well protected in terms of severance pay and health care as they transition to their next job. Also, collect all their company assets / security before they leave for the day — preferably no later than two hours after the meeting.
After over one thousand of these encounters, no one has ever gotten angry with me, swore at me, or got upset at me. One man cried, but eventually he wiped away his tears and thanked me. I smiled at him earnestly.
I felt fundamentally secure in my job. No one else could possibly do it as well as I did.
Then one morning I walked into our conference room. There was a robot sitting there.
It had a round head, looked like a miniature astronaut.
“Thank you, [Name] for coming in,” said the robot, “I have some information regarding our organization that I want to tell you in person.”
“Oh fuck,” said a nearby IT guy, “It was supposed to say ‘Robert’ instead of ‘[Name]‘. Sorry, Robert… Sorry.”
Love Is Like Beating Halo 3 On Legendary
Hey there, gentle reader. A good friend of mine has a wedding coming up, and she asked me to say a few things about love. I have one minute to speak, which should be just enough time to cover everything I know about love.
I have been in love exactly one and a half times. One of those times was with myself. But it was a bad breakup, so it’s really awkward to see myself at social functions and in the mirror. But we’re still trying to remain friends.
I have decided to be as literal as possible with this request, and my plan is to come up with a few analogies as to what love is like. This also makes it easier to remember what I’m supposed to say, since I will probably be drunk. Here are some that I thought of just now:
- Love is like eating brownies that were baked by Sarah Palin. Sometimes you feel really conflicted about it and you don’t want to eat them, but they taste so good. Sarah Palin bakes really fuckin’ good brownies. Love is really complicated like that.
- Love is like an angry 200 pound chimpanzee that hates everybody but you, and he lets you ride on his back while he rollerskates around and smokes a cigar. Love makes you feel really special.
- Love is knowing that there will always be somebody there to hi-five you and buy you a Diet Coke and give you gum from her purse and make out with you. Love is comforting.
- Love is like having your wallet stolen by talking hamsters. It hurts, but the fact that it happened is so fucking amazing that it doesn’t really matter.
Those are some of the things I just thought of in the last thirty seconds. Give me a month or so and I should have at least two more. This wedding speech is going to be awesome.
I Finally Saw Synecdoche, New York
I liked it. It was a strange coincidence because I had just been looking at houses with the intent to buy.
One of the houses was slowly burning down; another one was slowly filling with water. A third was slowly being kicked to pieces by tiny unicorns.
I decided to go with the third house because that seemed like a really interesting way to die.
I Am Buying This Wedding Chapel Off The Internet
It’s true — you can buy your very own wedding chapel on Amazon.com. I spotted this on one of the best pages on the Internet: The Amazon Oddities Page, crammed with all the weirdest goddamn stuff that Amazon sells.
Apparently all these items are marked with the “Oddities” tag, and all of them seem to very much deserve it.
Hey friends, did you know you can buy a mounted deer butt? Here is your uranium ore for $29.95. Finally, you can knit with dog hair. Also, real wolf urine in the 32 oz. family size. And this is all just from the first page.
Human beings are a very, very interesting species of animal. Here is my favorite stuff (Christmas is just around the corner!): Taco Christmas Ornaments. Ferret Antlers (Again, Xmas!). Pokemon Perfume. Huge Satanic Goat Head (XMAS!).
San Diego Is Rather Far Away
I keep thinking that it’s an hour away from LA. But it apparently isn’t. Which is good for me because I really like driving — taking that toll road between the 405 and I-5 (hwy 73?) is a surreal experience when you’re the only car for a mile in either direction. At night you feel like a bullet on a ribbon, zipping along in the dark.
This was a good reading. It was at UCSD, which (I might be mistaken) seems to be divided into colleges like Uncle Charley’s Summer Camp (UC Santa Cruz). My hosts were very gracious, and the audience really seemed to like the thing.
In the talkback afterwards there was a young woman who identified herself as Cambodian American. This play is about Cambodian Americans, and I’m not Cambodian American, so I’m monitoring the veracity thing closely. I don’t want to screw things up, and if they are screwed up, I want to fix them.
Anyway, she said it was quite accurate. She mentioned that she grew up in Long Beach too, and the characters seemed like familiar people to her. This makes me feel a lot better. I said that I have no idea how I was able to manage this, since my sole street cred consists of beating Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.
So here’s to you, young lady. And to UCSD too — you have a lovely campus with lovely people. I just wish you were closer so I could come visit more often.
This Is Why I Tried to Rip Your Face Off
1. You made me do a commercial with Carrot Top.
2. When I was shooting that episode of Monk you ran out of Reese’s Pieces between takes. Then you tried to slip me M&Ms and you told the P.A. that I couldn’t tell the difference. Well guess what? I could.
3. ALSO, you gave me my Diet Pepsi in a styrofoam cup instead of my Spider-Man sippy cup. It’s like I’m below the line or something.
4. The cable was broken in my trailer and you forgot my Finding Nemo DVD at home.
5. You won’t let me drive my golf cart, even though we bought it with MY MONEY that I EARNED, and it says my name on the side.
6. My pilot didn’t get picked up.
7. You keep buying me these totally cheap diapers at CostCo when I only wear Depends Maximum Protection. DEPENDS MAXIMUM PROTECTION. To justify this you keep saying “We’re in a recession, we’re in a recession,” but I don’t even know what that fucking means. What am I, a scientist?
8. Firefly isn’t on anymore.
9. You keep arranging play dates with Bubbles, Michael Jackson’s old chimp, and he keeps trying to touch my peener.
10. You keep saying “It’s like a zoo in here”, and that totally hurts my feelings.
Year Zero Reading at East West Players
Hey folks, I’d like to invite you all to the third and final Southern California area staged reading of Year Zero, taking place at the David Henry Hwang Theater at East West Players.
This will likely be the last public reading before the play world premieres at Chicago’s Tony Award-winning Victory Gardens Theater next season.
What is this play about? Reincarnation. Redemption. Dungeons and Dragons. It contains what my good friend Lloyd Suh described as “the nerdiest stage direction ever written:” He rolls a D20.
I’ll see you there!
David Henry Hwang Theater • East West Players
120 Judge John Aiso Street
Los Angeles, CA 90012
FREE as in BEER
(Please arrive early to allow for parking)
Directed by Oanh Nguyen
Featuring Kari Lee Cartwright, Tim Chiou, David J. Lee, and Rodney To
My Work in Print
Year Zero
Available from Samuel French and Amazon.com
Cowboy Versus Samurai
Available from Samuel French and Amazon.comFor a complete list of books containing my work, please click here.
