In the conference room (or "The Den of the Cat Lady") part 1

During happier times, when one was summoned to the conference room, it was for a surprise birthday celebration. A smile would creep across the birthday boy or girl's face, imagining those decadent cupcakes and soft baked chocolate chip cookies waiting idly upon a platter on the conference room table.

One would quicken one's stride and allow a twinkle to manifest itself in one's eyes, anticipating a cadre of coworkers, all seated around the long table, smiling and twinkling back.

Alas, there were no cupcakes and twinkling co-workers on this dark day. Instead, I was greeted by a stoic, severe woman in her mid to late fifties, grasping a white manila envelope, displaying an expression of forced concern and faux empathy.

She knew I knew why she was there. She also knew I knew that she was being paid specially to carry out this most heinous task.

Her eyes almost whispered "I know this is hard for you, but, my thirty five cats have to eat."

No Whiskas this week. Fancy Feast and caviar were back on the menu.

The woman, whom I shall call Enis for its similarity in sound and spelling to a certain part of the male anatomy, motioned for me to sit down after shaking her ice hold talon, I mean, hand.

I seated myself, crossed my legs and took a long, leisurely sip of my coffee.

I wanted to embody dignity and poise. I wanted to appear relaxed. I wanted my body language to state that while others may have broken down, plead, shivered, or screamed out, they would get no such reaction out of me.

I was a dedicated nationalist captured by the enemy. I would have spit in Enis' face, if I knew it would not have endangered my severance pay. I would have thrown my coffee to the ground and stood upon the table, demanding freedom from tyranny, if it was actually applicable to the situation.

Instead, however, I sat. I sat and I listened to Enis, while my manager sat nearby looking downtrodden.

Enis began with "I do not work for the company, but am here on the company's behalf. I have been hired as an outside representative. The company has decided that the only way to continue to exist and turn a profit is to cut costs. Part of that cost cutting initiative includes reducing the workforce and eliminating various positions."

Translation: "The people who run this place and do the least, but make the most, want to continue making the most and realize that by cutting a large number of those making the least, they can continue to make the most."

2nd Translation: "You are fucked, sonny boy."

I continued to sit, sipping my tall Americano. Then Enis spoke those prophetic words. Words so latent with bullshit, I was surprised they were able to fly so nimbly from her lips:

"Its not you. Its your position."

I think I nodded.

Enis continued "The company has decided to eliminate your position. It has nothing to do with you personally."

"No. Nothing at all, Enis old girl" I thought.