“I’d be very well advised to have you revoked.”
“Yeah. K-I-L-L-E-D. Revoked.”
One of my office duties is the hiring and firing of all our students employees (of which there are legion) and all the requisite paperwork that goes along with it, a process that is casually referred to as “termination.” I hate the word “termination,” it makes me feel as though, rather than firing these kids, I’ve quietly disposed of them for having outlived their usefulness to the department (side note, my official title is Criminal Secretary, which I always thought made me sound like Don Corleone’s personal assistant so maybe terminating people is fitting, but I digress). No matter how you slice it, whenever I’m given a packet and told to terminate someone I feel like a bad person.
Another problem I have with “terminating” people are the supervisors who tell me whom to terminate in the first place. Probably my biggest beefs with the sergeants over campus, library, and museum security is the fact that none of them are able to get that paperwork to me on time. We’re not talking a day or two late, here, I’m talking months and/or years! In the last two days I’ve processed the paperwork for about a dozen individuals who’ve graduated, transferred, moved, flunked out, or whatever in 2007 and no one informed our department! My inbox couldn’t even support the total paper weight! I don’t suppose I can quietly dispose of my superiors, now can I? “Hasta la vista, baby!”