Who Loves Ya, Baby?

When my assistant Natalie brought the existence of this site to me, my popularity was at 37%. At first, I thought "Wow I'm pissing off a lot of people, I must be doing a great job!". Being a CEO is not about making people happy. If you want to make people happy, go work for Happy Raymond. He's one jolly good fellow.

I was told by one of my director this morning that I was up to 60%. I went ballistic, "How the fuck is this possible, tell me, who's voting on this site, could a script be attacking Glassdoor.com to humiliate me?". The poor director liquified instantly in his wingtips, afraid that I would accuse him of wrongdoings. "Do I look like Mr. Nice Guy?" I screamed to the director whose blood pressure took a sharp turn.

"Tell me, is this the face of a CEO who gives fucking dividends to shareholders? Do I look like a fucking Santa who give hugs and bonuses? I've been told that my name sends waves of terror and uncertainty when I announce an upcoming visit to a business unit. Do I look like a fucking teletubby to you? Do I?"

The director - whose name escapes me - said something about unscientific data based on loosely-based voting system whose reliability could be compared to the psychological state of active Facebook users. In other words, crap.

I was furious. "What do these moronic Glassdoor users still say about me, that I'm doing great policies encouraging work/balance? Please don't tell me that"

"No, your Highness, members are more disgruntled than ever. Turnover rate is increasing steadily. Even Stanley employees are voicing frustrations. They complain things like Company revenues seems to be more important that customer satisfaction, or Managers don't listen to training requests and No Pension and not good compensation."

My furious face morphed to aw and wonder, my concrete-smashing fists relaxed to almost a Zen state, I think I even smiled.

"Really, my profitable members are saying this? You're not kidding me, do you? Man, my plan is working, it is really working!"

I then got up from my chair, went next to the director who still had the shakes, and I slapped him on the shoulder. "Good job, Rachid. Or Robert. Or whatever."

An intense feeling of joy and empowerment swept through my whole body. I felt so lightheaded to know that, I jumped on the table and proceeded to do the Profitable Growth Dance, something I l was initiated to in India against my will during our '09 Annual Tour. "I'm the king of the IT world" I shouted. I wished I had a lollipop.

I was so happy that I thought I should raise the workweek to 42 hours across the board. Or let members pay for their own parking spot. But my internal self-control reminded me of The Plan. Must execute the plan, I said. Diszipline, Meik, diszipline. I then exploded in a loud, sadistic laugh, rubbing my hands together. "The Plan, The Plan! If only they knew!"

When I looked at the director, I noticed that he went through self-combustion probably due to high stress, a pile of smoking ashes meshed with pin-stripped fabric was taking his place, the company pin sitting on top.

Can someone from HR get back to me with the name of this guy? And please, recycle the pin.