the layoff

          “Phillip Rolling, Phillip Rolling, please come to the human resource office right away.”

            I heard my name echo over the loud speaker of the factory.  I had worked at this plant for nearly ten years, so I had been called to the front office many times before.  Thus I made my way there wondering what it was this time.  I figured I would probably have to fill out some paperwork, or my name had been drawn in the company’s random drug testing lottery.  I would be happy to get a little break from work in exchange for a little pissing in a cup.

            I made my way past the various machines, as they spit out the various metal clamps and fasteners produced here by the thousands.  I had grown to find a certain solace in the clinks and clanks of these machines over the years.  I even enjoyed the rigid rhythm of their sounds.

            I passed a few “safety first" posters.  I had read these posters hundreds of times, but I always stopped to read them again.  I stared at one in particular all the time.  The message stated “Safety Begins With You,” and it had a finger that seemed to be pointing at the viewer from no matter where they looked at the poster. 

            I reached the door that separated the front office from the factory.  Stepping through this door always seemed like stepping into another realm. The door was the border between the blue collar, heavy machinery, and concrete floor dimension and the white collar, cubicles, and carpeted floor world.             

            I stepped lively to the office of Dana Kalowski the human resource manager.  I am not sure why but I always tried to look confident and sure of myself when I was walking past the employees in a suit and tie.

            The office was open, so I just stepped in the doorway and cleared my throat, to get Dana’s attention.

            “Come in and have a seat.  I’ll be with you in a minute,” she said as she typed a way on a computer keyboard.

            I sat down and scanned the office like I had every time I had been in there before.

            My eyes passed over the file cabinets, family pictures, and the generic painting of sailboats resting on a shiny blue sea.  I always found a certain pleasure in that painting, which I cannot quite explain.

            “Mr. Rolling,” Dana began, “as you know these are tough economic times.”

            The one thing about Mrs. Kalowski everyone in the plant knew was she did not waste time with small talk.

            “This is no reflection on your job performance,” she continued, “but I am afraid due to fiscal cut backs the company is going to have to let you go.”

            “I guess I get to start my vacation a little early,” I joked trying to hide a sudden attack of anger and fear.

            “The company will gladly give you a sterling recommendation anytime, that you may need one.”

            “Why the hell don’t you lose your job.  You don’t make the company any money,” I thought, as I politely thanked her.

            “I am going to give you a packet with some information on collecting unemployment benefits and a few other subjects.  Do you have any questions for me?”

            I stared out a window on the back wall for a minute.  I had a dozen or so questions, but I had none that she would be would be able to answer.

            “No, I get it,” I finally replied with a hint of disdain in my voice.

            “Well, if you would like, you may finish the day.”

            “No thank you, I think I will leave now.  I would appreciate it if you mailed my last check to my home address, please.”

            I made that last request with forced authority.  I guess it was an attempt to maintain some pride, but any self-esteem I had at that moment was quickly being forced out by doubt and fear of my future.

            I guess despite the circumstance, I would have to call myself fortunate on the drive home.  My mind sure was not on my surroundings.

            That night I called my best friend, Mike.  We made plans for a little pizza and beer.  I knew I would have to start budgeting my money, but I figured one night out wouldn’t hurt too badly.

            I arrived at our favorite sports bar a little later, in the evening, to see Mike already waiting for me.  He was sitting in a booth working on a pitcher of ale.  I glanced at the televisions line on the wall to see what game or sporting events were being featured.

            When I got to the table I gave Mike a “What’s up?” greeting.

            Mike responded with, Hey dude, how’s it going?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Dude you got to lift that head up it aint that bad.”

            “I just lost my job.”

            “Yeah, I know but something will turn up for ya.”

            “ I smiled then stared down at the table.  A pretty young server arrived with a pizza, that Mike had ordered before I had arrived.  I took a slice that I basically ignored.  Mike took two slices right away and quickly gulped the first one down.



            I turned my head to gaze at the bar’s “wall of fame.”  A wall that featured framed photographs of famous sports stars and celebrities that had frequented the establishment.  Mike had decided to gawk at the back half of our lady server.  It was her first night and he was really enjoying the view, when finally he had to comment on the eye candy.

            “I could set my beer on the top of that ass,” he said as she strolled by our table.

            I gave him the obligatory chuckle then checked the view myself. He was right it was nice, but I was just not into enjoying the scenery.  The only thing in my mind that moment was how horrid my dating life was going to be now that I was jobless.

            I fell asleep that night in my recliner watching cable news and woke up a few hours later than I had wanted.           

            I rushed to get dressed, slowing down only to give myself an extra close shave.

I dressed in what I consider to be business casual.  A decent pair of dark blue slacks and a light blue button down shirt.  I stuffed a tie in my pocket, for emergencies.  I would put my resume out there soon, but I wanted to put in a few applications.   

            The first place I stopped was a little diner that was just down the street from my apartment.  I had done a short order cooking back in my day and thought “Why not” it would do me until I could get something better.  I decided my chances of landing a job were better if I spent a little money, so I ate a light early lunch at the place before asking for an application.  I didn’t want to take any chances, so I even left a rather sizeable tip for my waitress.

            When I went up to pay.  I asked to speak to the manager and an application.  I wanted the manager to see me fill the application out right there.

            He was busy but he took the neatly filled paper from me with a handshake and a smile.  I felt pretty good, leaving the dinerThen as I walking out; I held the door open for an elderly couple that was coming in the place.  At this moment, I just so happened to turn my head and see the manager crumpling up my application into a paper ball.  I raced to the table I ate at and picked up my entire tip.

            “Karma be damned,” I shouted as I held up the bills I had laid down.

            I spent the drive home arguing with myself about if I had any type of a future to look forward.  The only thing I agreed with myself on was that night I would go sing a little karaoke.  Karaoke was something I often did when I felt down.  I had been told I had an ok singing voice, and thought I didn’t believe it I did enjoy music as a way of venting my frustrations.     

            Later that evening, I arrived at my favorite country and western bar.  I felt the need for the emotional pull of country music.

            The place was nearly empty when I walked inside, so I made my way to a round table in the corner and sat on a three-legged stool.  I ordered a pitcher of beer from a wrinkled red haired waitress, and I began to drink my way to the courage I would need later in the night.   

            The crowd slowly began to usher in as I watched dust dance in a ray of sun that snuck past the painted windows that lined the windows.  I watched large groups of friends come enter, as they fell all over each other.  I noticed the couples holding hands, as they walked through the door.  I tried not to, but at that time seeing others in love always made me a bit envious.

            When ten o’ clock hit, with the place now nearly filled to capacity and a buzz with chatter, a large man in too tight western wear stepped on the little platform, on which we would sing, at the back of the room.

            “Hey, hey, I’d like to think y’all for coming out to our “Krazy Karaoke Kountry” night.”

            The more the man spoke the more the crowd quieted down.

            “The only rule we got is be nice to the singers.  It takes a lot of guts to get up here, so y’all show the performers the proper respect.”

            This comment got some very sparse applause.

            “Now let’s get this started.  Who wants to volunteer to be first?”

            Before the final words were out of the MCs mouth, I was already raising my hand, and I my eagerness paid off.  I was called on to sing first.

            I made my way to the stage looking straight ahead trying to walk natural, as I wondered if people were staring at me.   

            As I made my way up the platform, the man who had called me up asked if I knew what song I wanted to sing.  I paused for a moment in mock thought.  I knew what song I wanted to sing, my favorite classic country break up song.

            “I’ll sing ‘I’m Dying Every Minute I’m Living With Out You’ if you got it,” 

            “Yes sir, we got that country classic.”

            I took to the center of the stage, as the song loaded.  I spied a monitor that would roll they lyrics as the music played, but I would not need the help tonight.  I scanned the audience though with a spotlight shining on me I really couldn’t make out anybody.  A touch of nerves hit me, so I closed my eyes and listened as the music began to play.  When it was my time to sing.  I sang the opening verse.  The words were of fond memories of love and togetherness. As the song continued, the words morphed into loss and heartbreak.  I am not sure if it was losing my job or just the moment, but the emotion of the lyrics really hit me.  I forgot I was being watched and that I was on a stage.  I just sang from somewhere deep inside.  I hit every note effortlessly and when the song ended I opened my eyes.

            There was a moment of silence.  Then the crowd erupted in thunderous applause.  I tried so hard to not break my face with a smile.  I made my way back to my seat amidst a sea of people wanting to compliment and praise my performance.  I tried my best to seem modest and humble, but I am sure that only made me look like a pompous ass.

            That night as I watched television from my recliner, I decided the next morning, I would stop by the unemployment office, but I would do it right after I made a demo tape of my vocals to start my singing career.