The Perfect Last Day at Work
Ever wondered that the perfect last day of work could be like? We have! I-resign.com presents the fantasy final day in your job...
Your eyes slowly open as the clock radio alarm gently fades into your consciousness. It takes a few seconds, but you soon recognise the music as "A Lovely Day" by Bill Withers. A ray of bright sunshine burns a chink through the curtains. A cuckoo is audible way off in the distance, in between the sound of benign waves breaking on the beach outside. So far, so good. You flex your toes in time with the music for a few minutes then take a shower.
Mmm, breakfast, cooked by your lover. Poached eggs, crunchy buttered toast, 4 rashers of smoky bacon, orange juice, one of those French chocolate things. All this and a nice cup of tea and copy of this morning's newspaper.
A ring at the door. But who could this be? Improbably, it's someone claiming to be a chauffeur and they insist that you relax in the back of very expensive European luxury saloon while they drive you to work. Unfortunately, the main road is blocked, so they're forced to drive the scenic route instead. You can see for miles, this really puts you in the mood to face whatever they throw at you today.
The miserable, obnoxious guy who usually sits at reception has been taken ill with a rectal prolapse or something, so you stroll into the office without encountering the usual stare of disapprobation, contempt and grumbled greeting.
You check your email, reply to a couple and visit all of your favourite web sites.
The network crashes just as you reply to the final email - even if you wanted to work, it would now be impossible. Hah! What perfect timing. Oh yeah, this is supposed to be your perfect last day after all. Bring it on! You spend the rest of the morning waiting for the pub to open while chatting to some friends, make paper aeroplanes, etc. There's a genuine end of term feeling.
You find yourself in the pub with about a dozen hand-picked mates from your department. Shouting above the increasingly boisterous and good-natured throng, one of them remembers that it's your birthday as well as your last day at work. The beers, wines and spirits line up quickly in front of you, soon followed by a delicious freshly-cooked lunch of unusual quality and imagination. The landlord puts MTV on and keeps it there at the perfect pub volume.
The marketing and PR department turns up en masse for lunch in the pub, thanks to the unusually good weather. They decide to strip off and have an impromptu beach volleyball competition and everybody wins really.
An aerial display team fly over the pub at a little over roof height before peeling off and performing the most maddeningly complex and daring sequence of high-speed stunts any of you have ever seen. You think it's all a coincidence until they spell out your name with a trail of brightly coloured smoke and "Thank You & Good Luck". A single tear wells in your eye.
You're beginning to think that maybe, just maybe you should return to the office to tie up a few loose ends, collect personal items and say goodbye to the rest of your workmates.
You finally stagger to your desk, clutching a half drunk bottle of champagne and leaving a trail of cigar smoke. You slump back into your chair, a wide smile on your face, and check your email one last time. Oh no, there's one from your boss requesting your immediate presence in his office, NOW!
You get yourself a very strong coffee, just in case your last pay packet depends on what happens in the next few minutes.
You smarten yourself up a little and step into the office. You're surprised to see your boss's boss sitting there instead. He discloses that he fired your old boss while you were at lunch in view of his incompetence, laziness and inability to hold on to good staff like yourself. He then offers you a seat and tells you that he's a put a little extra in your final pay packet as thanks to your vital contribution during your time with the firm. He asks if you'd like to join him for a round of golf, but you politely refuse. You're now certain he'll give you a glowing reference regardless of your sporting preferences.
You notice that the office is very quiet, then you spot the balloons. Shouts of "Surprise!" startle you momentarily and, one by one, familiar faces appear from behind filing cabinets, and others spill out of meeting rooms. It's a party!! The big boss follows you out of the office and produces an envelope, nods for you take it and announces 'We had a collection for you!'. Inside are two tickets for an all-expenses paid fortnight's holiday in the Maldives. Nice.
After gracefully accepting several other gifts you deliver an off-the-cuff but incredibly amusing, tear-jerking speech. Your secretary offers to collect together your belongings and have them delivered to your door by courier tomorrow morning. Your final act in your old job is to suggest that everybody repairs to pub once more for a final round of goodbye drinks, to which everyone readily agrees. That's it, the end of your last day with your old workmates, and one to remember at that!