The PIP - fiction?

Ed Reichmuth was fighting an after-lunch food coma halfway through his weekly team meeting when he was buzzed back to life by his phone vibrating on the conference room table.?He quickly silenced it but not before it woke up the rest of the sleepy-eyed engineering staff struggling to pay attention as Boyd Haynes ran over his time slot explaining some esoteric technical issue on his project.

“How’s 3 pm for the white sheet?” Martin Crowley, his boss had written.?It wasn’t a question.?And Crowley wasn’t the type to invite you to a meeting.?Ed texted a thumbs up and mentally braced for his annual performance review. A few more of these and I’m out of here, he thought.?He only wished it was sooner.

Unlike nearly everyone, Ed wasn’t the least bit curious what the single sheet of paper had printed on it.?He already knew.?In past years, like a kid before Christmas, he’d anxiously awaited what salary increase, cash bonus, and stock options he might receive that were spelled out in 11pt Times New Roman font on what everyone called the white sheet.?But the January after his 55th birthday, any hope of ever getting more stock options were dashed. After his 59th, the cash bonus mysteriously disappeared never to return, and last year, at 61 his salary was flatlined.?Crowley, the newly promoted group manager, made it clear without saying so, that he’d never see another raise.

“Thanks, Boyd.?Any questions?” There were none and Ed closed the meeting.?As everyone shuffled out of the room, Ed was lost in thought how quickly 34 years had flown by. Though it was obvious he’d never get another share of stock, bonus, or a penny more in pay, he still liked his job and the people he worked with.?And they seemed to like him.?Ed was also grateful he and his wife Jan had been like two squirrels hoarding nuts away for the winter. ?When the kids were little, they pegged the year Ed turned 60 as the target to trade the wingtips for flip flops and had been diligently building their nest egg since.?But their plan for the leisure life, like their hope for grandchildren – what is it with these millennials, anyway – fell victim to that ‘mice and men’ saying.??Ryan’s braces, Jenny’s out-of-state tuition, and in particular Jan’s breast cancer scare, all required dips into their 401K account. Add a recession or two and the best-laid plan to walk into the sunset at 60 became 65.?64 if they stretched it.?If he hadn’t had to deal with the new boss, he would have loved to stay longer. But Crowley had him counting the months.?I can hold my nose for a couple more years, he told himself.

“So, you have your white sheet today?” Anita Le said quietly as they stepped into the hallway.??“Sorry, couldn’t help it. Saw Crowley’s name on your screen.” Anita was like that.?Quick as a whip and never missed anything. She was his obvious heir apparent. He only hoped she’d stick around until he hit the highway.

“Yeh, my annual flogging,” Ed joked, without cracking a smile. “White sheets hold no mystery for me.?I’d prefer to skip it if that was possible.?The less I have to deal with the man, the better.”

“Yeh, we really drew the short straw,” she said as they passed the break room near the office cubicles. “What a stuffed shirt.”

Anita was being kind. There were a lot more colorful descriptions floating through the halls and cubicles of the company.?But what the rank-and-file thought of him didn’t seem to matter. Crowley had methodically ascended the corporate ladder focusing his rugged good looks, charm he turned on like a light switch, and a basket of technical buzzwords that impressed whichever executive controlled the position he coveted next.?His go-to business strategy was to slash budgets and instill that ‘lean and mean’ culture he preached. “We’re lean, he’s mean,” Anita quipped after a round of cuts last year. Everyone prayed Mean Martin would get promoted, becoming someone else’s headache before the full effect of his cuts hit the fan.

Too bad it has come down to counting the months, Ed thought, walking toward Crowley’s office.?Had some great bosses over the years. A few duds but, until Cutthroat Crowley as Boyd called the man, he couldn’t complain.?Boyd had a right to complain even more than most.?Early last year, an article Boyd authored was slated for a technical journal until Crowley held it up, insisting his name be added as a co-author.?‘It’s a common practice to acknowledge who authorized the work,’ Boyd had parroted Crowley’s request in disgust.?‘Don’t paint a target on your back, Boyd,’ Ed had cautioned at the time.

“Hi Ed,” greeted Carol Tate, Crowley’s admin, outside the boss’s office. “He’ll be with you in a minute.?How’s Jan?”

“She’s fine.?Still volunteering at the library.?How’s Mr. Bickers?”

“Just offal. Fat as ever.” She laughed. “The vet has put him on a special diet. He mopes around whining all night. Worse than when Charlie was on a diet.”?Ed chuckled but was caught quick thinking of Charlie, Carol’s late husband. It brought back memories of summer weekends together at the lake house when both their kids were young.

He took a seat and stared at the closed door.?So much for the open-door policy as he waited for Crowley to grant him an audience.?At five after the hour, by design, Carol led him through the door.

“Ed, glad you could come,” Crowley said with a smile that immediately put him on guard. “Tough year. Bet you’re glad it’s over.”

Nice set up, Ed thought.?Call it a bad year.?Make it easier to give me a goose egg.?“I wouldn’t call it a tough year, Martin,” he said.?“Three out of five projects completed on time.?The other two were finished but were delayed due to budget cuts.”?Your budget cuts, Ed wanted to say but didn’t.

Crowley, clearly on a path to deliver a down message was undeterred.?“Can’t blame budget cuts for underperforming, Ed.” Smile gone, he quickly switched to the meat of his prepared beat down. “Ed you’ve been doing this for a long time.?Ever thought it was time to try something new? Hand the baton to some new blood?”

Wow! Crowley’s words hit him like a gut punch. That wasn’t what I expected.?Torn between the confusion over what his boss was implying and anger from throwing his team under the bus – underperforming my ass, all Ed could get out was, “No Martin.”

“Well, it’s obvious to me that you and your team’s performance could have been better.?And just zeroing out your raise again won’t change things.?I’ve looked at this long and hard and I think there is a need for higher potential more energic leadership in your group.”

So, am I being canned, he thought, not sure where this was going.?Or is he just demoting me, expecting me to leave rather than swallow my pride??Dream on asshole! It’d be fun spending more time in the lab.

“Ed, bottom line, I’d like you to consider retiring,” Crowley said, delivering the knockout punch. ??“You’ll get to stay on the company health insurance until you qualify for Medicare, and you’ll fully vest in the company matching of your 401K contributions and HSA.” He paused to let it sink in, waiting for Ed to say something.?Ed was almost delirious struggling to deal with Crowley’s blow. What, no camping in the lab? Not even an open invitation to shop for another job? Just go? Ed was dumbfounded, not able to form words and Crowley couldn’t resist filling the silence.?“If you don’t retire, Ed, I’m sorry but I’ll have to put you on a PIP.”

There it is, Ed thought.?Retire or I’ll put you through hell until you throw up your hands and leave. Performance Improvement Plans or PIPs as they were called, were not intended to improve performance.?They were designed to ruthlessly micro-manage an employee until he or she gave up and quit.?And all perfectly documented by HR in case the EEOC came calling. Ed, like any long-time manager, had taken a few low performers through a PIP.?But he always insisted the employees be given an incentive package, usually one week’s pay for every year of service, to allow them time to find something better.

“Just what part of my performance requires improvement Martin?” he said, with growing anger.

“Ed, the role of engineering manager is a critical component to the success of the group.?I need a high-energy, think-outside-the-box leader who can motivate a young team to meet the technical challenge this company faces.?You’ve been at the job for a good number of years.?I think it’s time to breathe some new life into the role.”

“So I’m not high energy enough??Is that what you’re saying, Martin?”?Ed was thinking, I can get off the decaf if that’s all it is, but he knew it wasn’t.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Crowley responded, though that was exactly what he said.?“Look Ed, you’ve done a great job over the years but it’s time to shake up the team.?I don’t see you being on the team going forward.”?Crowley paused.?Ed could feel the weight of being told he was not wanted descend on his shoulders like a lead overcoat.

“So what’s it going to be Ed,” Mean Martin pressed.

The thoughts and emotions colliding in Ed’s head were making it impossible to respond.?34 years and never a bad review.?Now, this??A PIP? The team delivered everything possible last year and would have done more if they were allowed.?Anger was swelling in him.?Anger at being dumped for no reason other than gray hair.?Anger that his team was characterized as not performing as required.?Part of him wanted to stand up and walk out the door that instant but he told himself to keep his cool.?His answer was the only one he could give.?

“Martin, I’m not retiring.”

***

They met at Momo’s, a favorite Italian restaurant a few blocks from the company front gate.?Ed enticed his old friend and former colleague, Joel Powers off the golf course with a request for help and a promise to pick up the tab.

“So, they are using the PIP to run people off now,” Joel said with a scratchy voice after Ed filled him in. “That’s an abomination.?A total corruption of what I set up.” Joel launched into a long winded ‘days of yore’ tale of when he was head of HR, the then CEO asked him to standardize the scattershot programs to address what to do with low performers.?“We had a great success turning people around.?Even got written up in one of the business magazines. Big feather in my cap back then.?Saddens me to hear it being abused like that.”

Ed ordered iced tea, the 71-year-old with Andy Rooney eyebrows went for chianti. “Joel, to be honest, if I could afford to, I’d retire,” Ed said, dipping his bread into olive oil. “I mean, I love the job, other than who I work for.?But I need a couple more years to top off the retirement account.?See, three years ago, my wife Jan had breast cancer. Pretty scary. Even scarier was the new high deductible health care plan they forced us on.?We had to pony up a good chunk of change. But I didn’t care. I was so worried; I would have spent whatever it took. The good news is Jan came through it like a trooper. But the experience ate up any buffer we had.”?The waiter came and they ordered, Ed wanted the stromboli but chose a salad, not wanting to lie to Jan later. ?“Don’t get me wrong, if they walked me today, we could make some sacrifices and be alright.?Probably have to get a part-time to fill the gaps. But damn it, I didn’t work all these years scrimping and saving to spend my waning days saying, ‘want to make it a combo?’”

“Understand,” Joel said, taking a sit of his wine, smacking his lips. “Let me ask you a question or two.?I assume your boss is not eliminating the position you hold?”

“No, he’ll likely promote another member of my team.”

“And he’s likely younger than you? Possibly under 40.”

“She is,” Ed said. “Mid 30’s.”

“Sorry. Okay, so the only way they can legally get rid of you, other than dumping you in another group. Oh, are they still using the Quality group for the unwanted?”

“Yeh, pretty much.”

“Okay, so other than dumping you in the Quality group, the only way to get rid of you is to say you’re not meeting requirements, run you through a PIP to document they gave you a chance to shape up, then ship you out the door.”

Ed took a moment to finally realize he was facing the end of his career. He was going to ask if there was a way to come through a PIP and remain at the company but he knew the answer.?“They usually offer a sweetener as part of the PIP, don’t they? If nothing opens up with the other groups, I figured I’d tough it out until he offers the package.?If the package is good, I’d take it and we can make do.”

“Did your boss offer you a package?”

“Not yet.”

“Don’t assume it’s automatic.?The signature approval list is long for those things.”

Their lunch came and as they ate, Joel filled Ed in on the particulars.?“When I was there, the incentive package came after the first round of the PIP.?As you know, you’re required to develop an improvement plan, your boss will likely crap all over it, you and he go round for a few cycles with HR watching the email exchange being the neutral arbiter.” When he said neutral, he raised his fingers to form air quotes.?“You know HR isn’t neutral. Their job is to make sure nothing can come back on the company. Now once this Crowley clown has run you through the wringer a few times moving the goalposts and such, HR will call for a status meeting.?That’s when you’ll likely see the first sweetener.”

“That’s the week for every year offer, right?”

“Oh, hell no. The first package is usually limited to 8 weeks’ pay.?No, with your years of service, they’ll need VP level approval to offer you the silver package – a week’s pay for every year of service.?We’re talking north of 30 weeks of pay, aren’t we?”

“Yeh.?Well, I’m not gonna let him railroad me for just 8 weeks’ pay.?At my age, that’s not nearly long enough to find another job.?If I can hold out for this silver package, that could give me enough time.”

Joel was quiet for a minute, wheels turning while his mouth was chewing. “Ed, there is a risk you should know about.” He swallowed his tortellini, took a drink. “If they have anything on you, or can find anything to pin on you, the first package may be a threat to terminate.” He stopped eating and looked squarely at Ed.?“If they terminate, you get nothing.?No health care bridge to medicare and no company matching on your 401K. You got any skeletons in the closet, Ed?”

“None that I know of,” Ed said, trying to think of what Crowley could possibly come up with. ?He started to wonder whether going thru the dance with the man was worth the hassle.?But he figured the longer he held out, the closer he and Jan got to financial freedom.?God, he’d love to tell Crowley to take the job and shove it!

They both worked on their meals as the waiter came by to top off Ed’s tea. “Joel if a week for every year is the silver package, is there a gold package?”

“Yeh, but don’t get any ideas, because there is no way you’d get it.”

“What is it?”

“Gold package is reserved for the most serious issues that could cause the company great harm. Like that time when that VP, what’s his name, ah, Belcher, visited the Malacca plant.?Must be at least ten years ago or more.?Well, it was hush-hush, but the idiot couldn’t keep it in his pants and assaulted several women. I’m sure you might’ve heard the rumors.”

“Yeh, I remember.”

“Well, once they got through kicking Belcher to the curb,” Joel said. “They got out the checkbook for those poor women. I heard they also spread some love to several local officials.”

“Wow! What’s the company cough up for a gold package?”

“Whatever it takes.”

Ed finished his salad, or at least as much as he could stand.?No amount of lettuce can satisfy an appetite anyway. Joel finished his pasta and gave his old colleague a serious look. “Ed, this should not come as a surprise to you, but the company has been, in a very subtle way, targeting you since you turned 55.?You know the old saying when the dog gets too old to hunt, shoot him and get a younger dog.?That’s what they’re doing.?Did it in my day, too, though it was restricted toward the low performers.?Back then, we were real careful how things were done and documented.?Sounds like this Crowley character is playing it a little loosey-goosey.”?He paused for a minute, wheels turning again. “And if he is, the fool might be dropping breadcrumbs to follow.”?The waiter came and collected the plates. Check at the ready, Ed gave him a card.?Alone again, Joel whispered across the table, “Ed, if this boss of yours is such a Superman to upper management, you might want to have a little kryptonite in your back pocket, if you know what I mean.”

Ed did and asked, “How can I get it?”

“You know Rudy Hildebrand?”?Ed didn’t and said so. “Works in HR managing the PeopleSoft database.?Been there forever. He’s a three-finger banjo picker – Earl Scruggs style.?Pretty good.?I strum an old Gibson 57 from time to time. On occasion, we’ve been known to do a little bluegrass and tip a little rye until the dogs howl. ?I’ll dust off the six-string and give Rudy a call.?Let him know you might be in touch.”

***

Joel was right.?Ed spent the next two weeks sending his boss increasingly more detailed plans for how he and his team would run faster, jump higher and smell sweeter than last year.?Each time, Crowley swiftly rejected whatever he proposed as insufficient with increasingly sharper elbows.?Ed tried to take it all in stride.?He’d put out some feelers to other groups to see if there were any openings.?At the same time, he was mentally thinking if he got the silver package, he’d at least have more than 6 months to find something else.?But Crowley, who paid little attention to what Ed and his team were doing before this, was now scrutinizing every email, project plan, and presentation with a caustic eye. So much so, that his team members were noticing it.

“What's Cutthroat’s beef today?” Boyd complained when Ed asked him to revise a technical presentation at Crowley’s command to add more detail. “If Crowley can’t understand the technical issues, why should we have to dumb it down for him.”

Ed wanted to tell him, it’s me he wants not the presentation, but he couldn’t.?Even Jan was noticing his frustration and restless sleep.?Her advice was simple:?Leave. We’ll make do.?But his look at the finances told him he couldn’t leave. Finally, after Crowley rejected Ed’s third proposed improvement plan, the so-called neutral party from HR requested a face-to-face progress meeting – as if there was any.

“Martin, Ed, thank you for meeting,” Britany from HR said with a bright voice and brilliantly over whitened smile.?She was visibly nervous to be conducting what was obviously her first PIP meeting and tried to mask it with bubbly behavior, fooling no one. “This is our first check-in on your performance improvement plan, Ed.?How are we coming?”

Ed almost chuckled.?As if you don’t know, he thought.?And what’s this ‘we’ shit? He said: “I’ve sent my latest plan to Martin yesterday. It includes everything he requested from the last plan.”?There. Balls in your court Martin.

“No, it doesn’t Ed,” Crowley said, not waiting for the neutral party to flash her smile and play moderator. “It is not what I’m looking for, and as I told you the last time, your approach is too conservative. To be successful, we need much more aggressive, dynamic, and self-directed leadership.?What worked in the past won’t cut it.”?Cutthroat went on for a bit, but Ed was only half-listening, stealing glances toward Brittany, seeing how she, minus her high wattage smile was reacting, hoping she would stop the Crowley train railroading him.?But when his berating boss ran out of air and youth-oriented descriptions of what Ed didn’t have, she only played marriage counselor.

“Thank you, Martin. Ed, do you think you can revise your plan to address Martin’s requirements?”

“Well, I can try,” Ed said, half-heartedly. He didn’t want to come off as limp as a wet dishrag, but Crowley’s thrashing could really suck the air out of the room. He kept telling himself to hold on.?Maybe one of the Hail Marys will be answered and he can transfer out from under this tyrant.?With over 30 years with the company, he had a lot of contacts and friends.?Some rock will turn over, he told himself. If not, maybe the bubbly Britany can throw him a bone to chew on.?He waited for Britany to flash her orthodontal opulence and play mediator again but instead, she let Crowley jump in and spew more venom.

“Ed, at this point it’s clear to me that no improvement plan you propose will be what I need. I strongly recommend you retire. We need younger, er, new blood for this group to grow.” Crowley continued without a beat, but Ed caught his slip up.

“Martin,” he interrupted. “That sounds like you are deliberately getting rid of me due to my age. Aren’t there laws against that, Britany?” He turned to look at the neutral party.

“That’s not true Ed,” Crowley protested, but his eyes told a different story.

“Gentlemen, thank you for the frank and honest discussion,” Brittany said, stumbling over the words.?“Ah, it’s clear more work is needed to agree on the required performance improvement. Let’s spend the next two weeks working on that plan.?I’ll send you both a meeting invite.”

***

“So, how’d it go?” Anita asked Ed after his beat down.?She was the only one Ed told, but a PIP is the worst kept secret in any company.

“Drink?” Ed raised his worn old coffee mug, an award for achieving some long-ago milestone. When they were in the quiet hallway heading toward the vending machines, Ed gave a sad summary. “Not good. He wants me out.?Nothing else will satisfy him.” Then almost as a consolation, said, “Looks like you’ll be the Engineering manager soon.”

“Sorry to hear that Ed. You deserve better.?And thanks for the vote of confidence but it won’t be me.?If he can put you on a PIP, no one is safe,” she said, as they reached the vending machines. “I’m interviewing with Andy Tsong at 4:30 today.”

“He’s a good man. You’ll do well with him.?Want one?” Ed pointed to the coffee machine.

“No thanks. I’ll get the real stuff.” She moved to the next machine and bought orange juice. “He offer you a parachute to take the jump?”

“What an incentive package? Nope. I was half expecting something, but as soon as he slipped up, the HR lady ended the meeting.”?He got his machine brewed facsimile of real coffee.?

“How’d he slip up?” Anita asked, eyes big as saucers.

“He said he wanted younger blood running the group.?Not sure that will mean anything in the end, but it sure cut the meeting short.” They started back to the offices.

“Ed, a running club friend of mine does employment and labor law.?I can connect you with her if you are interested.”

Ed thought for a moment.?He’d always thought of lawyers as vultures preying on the carcasses of other people’s misery.?But after a round with Crowley, he was ready to bring some sharp talons in his corner. ?“Yeh, send me her contact info.”

***

???????????They met at the designated smoking area in the garden outside the company cafeteria. It was a safe place to meet alone.?With the steep insurance adder that any smoker had to cough up, it was always deserted. The chilly January air didn’t hurt either.?

“Sorry to hear you’re on a PIP,” Rudy said at a fast clip.?From his liver-spotted hands and wispy brown hair, Ed guessed Rudy was quite a few years his senior. ?Who does he have the goods on to still be around?

“Joel tells me you work for Martin Crowley.?I took the liberty of looking him up in the system.?His track record is pretty interesting.”

???????????Interesting. Is that all? Ed thought. When Joel suggested he meet with Rudy, he didn’t think much would come of it.?And he had no stomach for playing the whistleblower even if something did. That’s what disgruntled employees did.?He didn’t put in all those years to go out trashing the company. But that was before he got in Crowley’s crosshairs.?Now he knew how someone, anyone, could become - disgruntled.?Time to learn everything he could about Cutthroat.

???????????“Martin’s last three groups – by the way, he does move around more than most managers – have some interesting trends,” Rudy said, his eyebrows moving with his speech like a ‘follow the bouncing ball’ sing along. “Very interesting.”

There’s that word again. “What’s so, ah, interesting?”

“Well, in all three he has dropped the average age of the group during his tenure.?Two of the groups by almost 6 years.?No other manager, even ones that have been in the same position much longer, have come close.”

“Not surprised,” Ed said, confirming what everyone had suspected.?

“If this were to ever get out, it would put the company in an awkward position.?We track FBH hiring and retention. But ADEA is not as closely monitored.”

“FBH? ADEA?” Ed asked for a decode.

“Females, Blacks, and Hispanics.?It’s the top three workforce minorities we track and have active programs to promote. ADEA is Age discrimination.”

“Women are a minority?” Ed asked surprised.?He knew of initiatives to promote diversity but didn’t realize HR tracked them so closely.

“Yes, particularly in the technical areas.”

Returning his attention to his boss, asked: “So, is what Crowley doing breaking any laws?”

Before Rudy could reply, someone came out to light up. Both men got up and walked slowly back toward the cafeteria door.

“Technically no,” Rudy replied. “We report all protected class data to the EEOC at the company-wide level.?Crowley’s data is lost in the wash. But if the people he fired were to band together, it could make for an embarrassing class-action suit.”

“I see,” Ed said. “That’d be tough to round up enough to interest a lawyer. I guess Crowley’s banking on that.?Hey, I just want to hold on a few more years until I can retire.??You know, without having to stock shelves to pay our insurance premium.” He looked toward the older man expecting to see a kindred spirit, but saw Rudy staring at him like he was seeing his future.?Shaking the creeping feeling off, he opened the door.?“Thanks, Rudy.” Then, almost as an afterthought, asked: “Can I get the data you ran? You know, something to keep in my back pocket in case Crowley gets ugly.”

Rudy stopped before entering the building, the chill wind blowing the thin hair he still had. Ed could see he was debating what to do.?Finally, he reached into his jacket and produced two folded sheets of paper. “Just remember, you didn’t get this from me,” he said, walking through the door. As they cut through the deserted cafeteria back toward the main hallway, Rudy added: “Please be careful with that data, Ed. I’m 68 and my wife has Parkinson's. ?I need to keep this job. The company insurance is miles better than Medicare.”

“How have you survived this long?” Ed asked. Rudy was the oldest guy he could remember seeing at the company.

Rudy chuckled then let go with his practiced response: “My work is essential but it’s a dead-end job and not particularly exciting.?Everyone they put with me to learn it, leaves after six months.”

“Maybe I should transfer to your team,” Ed joked.

Rudy laughed. “I’d love to have you Ed, but now that you’re on a PIP, they block all your transfer requests.”

***

Round two came sooner than expected.?Ed had lobbed an update to his so-called improvement plan to Crowley two days after the first PIP meeting, dutifully copying Britany. It was soundly rejected with little reason given.?After re-wording a few items in the plan, feeling like he was rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic, Ed got in touch with the labor lawyer Anita knew and laid out his situation. ?While encouraging him that he had a valid claim of age discrimination, nothing she could do would save his job. He had just sent out his latest updated plan when he got Britany’s invite.?The meeting request was for the next day.?Securing a conference room on such short notice was impossible, even the cramped team rooms were booked like orchestra seats for Hamilton. They met in Crowley’s office.

Ed and Britany arrived on the dot and were treated to the standard wait for an audience with his majesty.

“I reviewed your improvement plan, Ed,” Britany said without the bubbly behavior. “It looked very good.”

Ed had a bad vibe. Why was Britany suddenly acting, what? Normal? And this quick turnaround from the last meeting doesn’t feel right.?Something's up. Could they have found something to ax me? The vibe turned to a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach - despite the fact he’d skipped breakfast - when the office door opened, and Britany’s boss Venu Bhatia ushered them in.?Bhatia and Crowley had a pre-meeting? This can’t be good.

“Thank you for coming Ed,” Venu said, shaking Ed’s hand, as they squeezed an extra chair into the office.?Ed and Britany sat facing Crowley across his small conference table.?Venu pulled the extra chair to the end of the table nearest the door.?“Ed, Martin and I discussed the status of your performance improvement plan.?I realize there are some gaps still to close but, I thought I might be able to help get us to an equitable solution.”

“Thanks, Venu,” Ed said, taking the bull by the horns. Ed figured if he was going out, it would be with guns a-blazing.?“I brought my updated plan. Maybe we can start there.” He handed out a copy to Venu and Crowley. “Sorry, I only made 3 copies. Britany, you can have my copy.” Wondering what Venu meant by equitable solution, Ed watched for Crowley’s reaction but only saw him scowl as he glanced at the plan then drop it on the table.

Venu seemed to be waiting for Crowley to engage as well.?When he didn’t, the HR manager took charge. “This is a good plan, Ed.?It looks detailed, actionable, and measurable. Exactly what the PIP guidelines call for.?Martin, can you comment on how this aligns with your requirements?”

“We can go through this plan like I’ve gone through the 3 or 4 before it,” Crowley stated with visible frustration. “And we’ll come back around to the fact that I don’t have confidence that Ed can do the work needed for this group to be successful. It’s as simple as that.”

“Okay,” Venu said a little surprised at Crowley’s crankiness.?“Can Ed provide value in another role within your organization, perhaps?” Ed thought this guy should be a hostage negotiator. Get me out of here, Venu.

“I don’t have another role that I believe Ed can fulfill,” Crowley said, emphatically putting Ed’s brief hope of hiding out in the lab to bed.

Venu, showing Britany how it’s done, turned to Ed, saying: “Ed, you are eligible for early retirement with full benefits.?Have you considered that?”

“I’m not ready to retire,” Ed said, putting a stake in the ground.?“In fact, with that plan there, I believe my group will have an excellent year.?That is if we had any management support.”?Ed stared at Crowley after dropping the turd on his table. ??With all the witnesses, it was time to take the PIP to the next level.?And as he figured, the fuck you Crowley message got the exact reaction he expected.?

“Ed, that’s crap,” Crowley exploded.?“I’ve always been supportive of your team. You’ve been treading water for years, like most of the old guard here.?I’m the first leader that’s challenging you to either sink or swim.”?The rant continued but Ed was catching glimpses of Venu hoping to see how he was taking it.?Go ahead Martin, hang yourself, knowing the old truism the first person to lose their cool loses all. Still, as Crowley’s rant devolved into personal attacks of him, he couldn’t help getting his dander up.?Keep cool, he told himself, with increasing difficulty. As Crowley’s tirade persisted without interruption from Venu, Ed started to question whether the HR manager was there as a mediator or just a more congenial collaborator.?Venu seemed finally ready to step in when Crowley played his trump card. “Ed, fair warning, I’m asking finance to review all your expense statements from last year.?If there is anything out of order, our next meeting will be your last.”

Ed had enough.?“Fine Martin, go on your fishing expedition.?Just remember you approved every one of them.”?Then, before he could tell himself to keep cool again, threw down the gloves. “Martin, how many people over 55 have you fired in the last three years?”

“What’s that got to do with anything,” the boss replied, flabbergasted.

Ed, realizing he’d jumped in the deep end without floaties, said, “It’s got everything to do with why we are here today, doesn’t it?” He glanced at both HR reps.?Venu, was caught dumbfounded, his mouth agape, looking like Ed just farted during Grace at the Thanksgiving table. Britany had a perspiration sheen overtaking her makeup. Lady, fan yourself because this room is going to get hot.

“No, it doesn’t Reichmuth,” Crowley crowed, taking the volume up a notch. “If you think…”

“Martin, what if I could name everyone you fired in the last six years,” Ed interrupted, struggling to hold his voice at a normal level. “That’s a lot of people, by the way.”?Ed pulled two sheets of paper from his back pocket, unfolded them, and laid them face down on the table.?“How many of them do you think would be over 55?” Ed looked down at the paper he just set on the table.?He stared at Crowley, finally speechless, and wanted to smile but Venu’s reaction ended the confrontation.

“Okay, I think it’s obvious the working relationship is, ah, a bit frayed,” Venu said as diplomatically as he could manage. “Why don’t we take a moment to let emotions cool??Martin, can you give us 5 minutes with Ed before we wrap up?”

Crowley quickly left, still in a huff. Britany shut the door. Venu took the boss's chair, and a manila envelope appeared in front of Ed faster than he realized what was happening.?Britany explained what Ed was being offered.?“Ed, we realize this process has been difficult for you, and in recognition of your long service to the company, we’d like to offer you assistance in your transition to new opportunities.”

“Transition to new opportunities?” he said.?“Am I being fired?”

“Retired, Ed,” Venu said, considerably less conciliatory. “You get the incentive package here, we get your signature on a few documents and whatever data you were about to present.?Everyone goes away happy.”

“What’s in the package?” Ed asked.

Britany with the best bubbly demeanor she could muster gave Ed the highlights of the package.

“12 weeks? Is that all?” Ed was crestfallen.?12 weeks at his age didn’t give him much time to find another job. “I’m definitely not going away happy.”

“It’s a very generous offer Ed,” Venu said, his conciliatory voice returning.?Ed thought, really? You can’t convince me dogshit is chocolate pie.?Venu looked at the paper still on the table in front of Ed. “And I want to warn you that if you have any proprietary information, you are not authorized to have, that could be grounds for termination.”

“Nice bluff, Venu,” Ed said, pushing the two blank sheets of paper to him. “You don’t want to turn this over to the lawyers. I’ve been told the discovery process can be very revealing.”

Venu, realizing he’d been duped, reverted to his strong suit, the conciliatory voice. “Ed, I know it’s a tough decision to leave the place you’ve loved working at for so many years.?Why don’t you go home and talk to your wife??We can talk about it tomorrow.”

Ed looked at both of them.?He’d played his cards and fought the good fight, but nothing was going to change the fact that his career was coming to an end.?He had thought about using the data Rudy had given him but felt putting Rudy’s job in jeopardy to get a bigger severance paycheck wasn’t right.?With a growing sense of resignation flooding over him, he said, “Thanks, Venu – and Britany.?I’ll do that.”?They got up and left the office. Venu said he’d circle back with Crowley.?When they both had left, Ed caught Carol watching him from her desk.

“I’m so sorry, Ed,” she said with anguished eyes.?“I couldn’t help but hear.”?

“It’s alright, Carol,” Ed said, wistfully. “We all want to go out on our own terms.?But, as I’m learning, it rarely happens.”

***

???????????Ed spent the evening with Jan talking retirement plans and looking at the numbers again.?It was doable, assuming the market stayed strong.?He’d only need a part-time job for a few years to make it work.?That assumes neither of us has any health surprises, he thought but didn’t mention. That’s a big if.?Not the way he wanted to leave work but the idea of life without Crowley started to grow on him.?Jan was on board, anxious to start a new chapter. During the commute the next morning he decided, what the hell! Why not.?Let’s put a fork in this career and call it done.

???????????With a spring in his step, he hadn’t had in years, he happily made for his cubicle, like a kid on the last day of school before summer vacation.?He intended to email Venu Bhatia accepting the package first thing.?He’d drop off the signed papers later in the morning, clear out his desk, and invite his team and a few old friends to a goodbye lunch.?A lunch he would not return from.?

???????????But his plans for a fond farewell, went the way of mice and men.?Or more accurately, his habit of checking his incoming email before sending any out.?The email was from Carol.?It said simply, “I feel so bad at the way you were treated.”?Attached was a string of emails between Crowley and several of his cohorts, other young managers on the rise.?It was a lively exchange specifically talking about how to get rid of the deadwood, as Crowley called older workers. There were many emails, but Ed only read the first five of six before he was so mad, he forgot about any fond farewell.

???????????He typed up an email to older colleagues in groups run by Crowley or his cohorts.?He attached the incriminating emails.?Before he hit send, he had second thoughts.?Do I really want to do this? Hell yes! He hit send.?Now that he’d crossed the Rubicon, he sent copies of the emails to older workers in other groups, like Rudy Hildebrand, who were worried about being put out to pasture.?He sent copies to several former colleagues who had already been put out to pasture.?He sent copies of the emails to the labor lawyer he had talked to. Lastly, he sent an email to Venu Bhatia saying, “Here’s my response to your offer for my retirement” and attached the emails.

***

“That was an impressive putt on 17, Ed,” Joel Powers said as he and Ed enjoyed a cool one in the clubhouse. “Your drives are still a danger to mankind, but the rest of your game has really come along.?You keep it up and you’ll be breaking 90 soon.”

“Thanks, 3 straight games under 100. I’m starting to get the hang of this,” Ed said, feeling the cold beer take the August heat out of his entire body.

Joel said: “Hey, Rudy came over last night for some bluegrass and rye. Said to tell you hi.”

“I liked Rudy,” Ed said. “How’s he doing?”

“Doing fine. His wife is still struggling, though. I wonder how long he can keep it up.?Anyway, he said to tell you Crowley is on the move again.”

“Oh,” Ed said, with little interest.?In the six months since he retired, he’d spent little time thinking about his old company and zero time thinking about his old boss.

“Yeh, after all the gold packages they had to dish out to clean up his mess, they moved him to the special projects group.”

“Where’s that?” Ed asked, just to be polite.

“Not where. What.?It’s upper management speak for a PIP.”