The Sweet Release of Death

Carnival Cruise line, tough economic times,

The Melancholy follies

06/03/2010 09:05 PM Filed in:Executive Hugs from Above

You hear about it online sometimes in a news blurb, about an airliner that had to turn around because someone smelled something foul (other than the in-flight meal,) and the plane had to turn back for home and land cause people were getting sick. Hell it happens daily on cruise ships– The whole bit of you getting violently ill with the Norwalk virus…Carnival leaves that little tidbit out of their “Lust for Life” commercials. Well it isn’t the Norwalk virus nor is it the Ebola virus. What has swept through Corporate Land is a highly contagious and debilitating case of the “I Don’t Give A Fuck” virus otherwise known as IDGAF. Its source (patient zero, you can say) is usually a victim of a demoralizing comment made by someone in management, or a shitty, sleazy maneuver executed on a fellow employee by management (see Douche Chronicles) this is compounded by the fact that Management in their infinite wisdom carries on as if nothing sinister has taken place. Playing large groups for fools is meant for American Idol, not the workplace. Ah executives…

Everyone has felt it, the IDGAF virus at one point or another in his or her career, but when it is in mass form, possessing a majority of the company with a constant feeling of 1. Dog died 2. Mom died 3. Did I leave the iron on? Plus, an overwhelming desire to check the Craigslist want ads every 30 seconds to see if anything is available, anything to escape the madness throughout this hovel of gloom, the workday is anything but pleasant. Maybe it’s the sad looks from the girls up front the moment I cross through the doorway in the morning. Maybe it’s the ten-thousand-yard stare that has engulfed the eyes of the production workers. From the temp to the bean counters, it is clear that everyone is in a funk – and not a James Brown kinda funk but an “I just breathed through my mouth the stench of a brown crime in the Men’s room,” kinda funk. That will ruin anyone’s day.

With the funkiness fueling the dour mood throughout Corporate Land, it has spawned an awakening. Resumes are being dusted off and updated. Websites are being crawled for jobs. Certifications are being updated. We the down trodden, the devalued, the workers…we’ve seen the iceberg ahead and we will be damned if we are going to be playing in the company band as the Good ship Lollipop sinks into oblivion. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the douchyness weren’t so obvious: Junior and the Golden Boy and their homoerotic cackling bromance, the blatant disregard for company policy (Editors Note: our executives adherence to company policy is “What policy?” and the ever so touching “Fuck’em!”) Between the backhanded comments, the frozen salaries, the lack of benefits, the “you guys have nothing to be proud of” motivational speeches, it’s a wonder there are any fucking cars in the lot in the morning!

So as the dourness continues on and the answers remain short and abrupt, I trudge forth in this wasteland and daydream to the future: my girls and me are long gone, moved on to greener pastures. Corporate Land has run amok. Ass kissers and yes men were the only ones that remain, albeit chained to the floor with gag-balls in their mouths and tattered assless chaps (kids when you dream, dream big!) the years of arrogance and blatant disregard writing their final chapter. They say when times get tough, the tough get going. Yes they do indeed. Right out the fucking door.

Tags: Carnival Cruise line, tough economic times, , James Brown