Last week I asked if I would hire myself. This has led me to wonder about firing myself. When you’re the big shot in charge and one of your side-line functions is hiring and firing, you must surely be faced with the pleasant, or in some cases unpleasant, task of getting rid of people. NO… not terminating them or sending them to their oblivion like the good old cold war tactics used to suggest.
Where would you begin? Politely asking the perpetrator to refrain from visiting your premises again. Suggest they go seek gainful employment at your competitor’s establishment? That will work in your favour as their services were undermining your endeavours so much they could well have been on the competitor’s pay roll. While you’re at it… you could suggest to one or two that waking up to reality may well be an improvement in the first place.
OK… back to my own reality. As I told you then, I’d most likely not hire myself in the first place so possibly I will never have the enviable task of getting rid of myself. Do you smell an unsavoury whiff? No… I just wouldn’t hire myself as I don’t really like competition. That’s all… nothing sinister.
Then, on the other hand… do you remember my alter-ego’s picture of himself? The lad was even adorned with a bit of regality. Now… have a look at his twin… see what the ravages of working for myself would result in. The meaning of all this? Most likely I won’t have to fire myself… I’d just kill myself off. Sobering thought, wouldn’t you say?
Still wondering about my alter-ego’s twin’s bust? No idea who the fella was but the more I look at him the more he makes me think of Mad King George in his sad state just before he departed this mortality. He’s to be found to the right of his more lively sibling, around the rear side of the St Mary’s Church in Donnybrook, Dublin.