Jobs are weird, period. You've got all this shit that's required of you. You have to show off your potential, bullshit, grin and bear it. But for what, really? For that trust-fund you'll set up for your snot-nosed off-spring? For that vacation home that will be demolished by some kind of freak natural-disaster catastrophe? So that when you're old and wrinkled and synthetic-smelling you can look back on your mundane life and smile at all that work you did? I guess. But jobs are vital because our society's still stupid enough to think money will solve all. In any event, jobs are just awkward. First there's the weird hiring process of pretending to be a completely different person from yourself, one who's bubbly and empathetic and a 'quick learner!' And then there's the inevitable point when whomever hired you realizes that you are and always have been a moron and gives you that too-familiar look like, 'What the fuck did I hire a schmuck like you for' (I always imagine people of authority to use words like 'schmuck' and 'schmo' and 'sonofabitch'--real people don't use these words in everyday conversations, they're reserved for the likes of corporate assholes and up-tight HR types or people who want one day to be like them, who practice these words in the mirror as if they were 6 wearing daddy's too big loafers and an untied tie that drapes from neck and drags on the ground). But there is nothing--and really, nothing--as awkward in the world of jobs as quitting one. Normal people seem to have a fine enough time typing up a professional-looking memo, sending copies and BCCing it to whomever it may concern that they just 'aren't right for the position anymore' and give their two-weeks as I've witnessed only on television. I've had a number of jobs and for the life of me I just can't do it. Why work that extra two weeks in sheer awkward terror? Why go through the horrific experience of drafting a letter of resignation so that the Big Guys can sit around and laugh at your poor grammar and meek courage, puffing their cigars and rattling old man mucus in their grey lungs? So here's how I do it and if you can't stand the formalities of resigning like a decent person, maybe you could be awkward like me:1. Start slacking on the job. Go out for extra coffee breaks. Smoke two or even three cigarettes instead of your usual 1/2. Don't answer people when come at you with frantic questions--stare blankly and watch them implode in aggravation muttering 'some help you are'. Listen to music on your headphones, but do not place the headphones on your ears; rather wear them loose around your neck--hum for extra effect. Check your MySpace, Facebook, hell check out a little porn and resist closing the windows when anyone walks by. Wear your delinquency like a badge of honor. Eat someone else's sandwich from the fridge. Burp. Take so long on your assignments that they end up getting passed onto other people. Try to take credit for the work when they finish it.
2. Stop showing up. Give it a couple of weeks so that it doesn't come across as dick. Take a day off on the first week. Catch a matinee or go smoke pot in your little brother's dorm room. Call that girl at the coffee shop who works weird hours because she's always strung out on coffee and Adderol and take her to a museum because you're 'artsy' and free of mainstream responsibilities. Gradually increase tardiness and absences. Catch up on your reading and start a blog. Laugh at how bored you'd be right now if you were at that dumbfuck job. If work calls, be vague. Feign sickness, death or terminal illness. Start getting creative with your excuses--your dog has acquired Avian Flu and you could be next, your father just contracted leprosy and you must show him to the island in a haz-mat suit and yeah it's got to be you because you're the only one he wants to see him like that and you're his fucking son so you should be able to take your infected father to his island. I mean, really weird them out. At some point, they may even be scared to call you because they're frightened to learn what new thing has ravaged your fake life. Work on your tan. If it's winter, make snowflakes and string them up all over your apartment just because. Take them down before any of your friends come over and call you an "arthole." Try to get coffee-girl to see it before then. "What a vision!" she'll say and maybe you'll get laid under jagged pieces of scrap paper.
3. Stop responding to calls from HR, e-mails from your boss and texts from that stupid bitch Lacey who's always on your shit but she smells like chicken bouillon and she wears turtlenecks and you'd never EVER hit that. Laugh at her multiple question marks. Now you're almost home free. Maybe start perusing the paper for a new job, but don't start too soon. Use this opportunity as if it was the last condom on earth and everyone else was a 'small-time dancer' from Reno. Pick up a new hobby--start drawing coffee-girl while she's at work (serving a coffee, delivering a pastry, yelling "turkey-bacon sammy for Julie!") Smile when she brings you your caramel machiato with a heart etched into the foam. Start playing fantasy-something depending on what sport's hot at the moment. Scream at your friends and at the T.V. and at the beer in your hand. Prank call work and ask for IP Freely. Hang up when they connect you with your boss Ivy Lee. Do a whole New York Times crossword puzzle (yeah, Googling's totally fine, you're quitting your job not applying to MIT or eating dinner at 4 by yourself with your cat). Write a short story about how your new girlfriend's addicted to crystal meth and send it to Oprah. Do not start watching Oprah. Smoke out of a pipe and buy a satin robe. Pick up some hair gel and foreign porn because this is the life.
Ok, now that the first three steps have been taken, you have to, at least at some point (maybe when you stop receiving a paycheck), call your work to make sure they've actually fired you. Have coffee-girl call in and request to be connected with you. Sigh noisily when she says "thankssomuch" because she's becoming really really annoying and you can't find your grandfather's watch you inherited last Christmas and recently she's always got the time when you ask. Do a victory dance when she says "oh ok" (too excitedly; speed freak) because you have now officially quit your horrible job without actually doing it. You're the man. Look into rehabs and restraining orders and a new job while you're at it.
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