Friendship is Thicker Than Water, Too.

There’s a dark cloud forming over work – a ghost of employee past is starting to haunt us, and it could be really bad if this person re-joined our little team.

First, a little backstory. My manager, the beloved Skippy Whitebread, used to have a team of 24 employees. Included in this team were “Skippy’s Boys”, a group of four guys that he hung around with on a regular basis. These weren’t just co-worker buddies; these were his NFL-on-Sunday-at-Skippy’s-house-bring-your-own-beer type of friends. It was Skippy, Jim, Chuck, Roger, and Larry.

Ah, Larry. Skippy’s bestest friend over. They’d been good pals for many years, even though Skippy was technically his manager. When Skippy was away playing soldier, Larry would come over and mow his lawn or shovel the sidewalks. They’d go to high school football games together, and spend hours drinking beer over the fence, ala Hank Hill and Boomhauer. I never saw them skipping hand-in-hand through the poppies, but I suppose it was possible.

The problem however lies in the fact that Larry was a nice guy – but a damn lousy employee. He really didn’t do much around here, and when he and Skippy and “his boys” would get together, their combined productivity level would bottom out at about 5%. Seriously.

Example? Larry and Skippy would come into work at about 8:30 or 8:45 or so (they often carpooled), then they’d go get coffee and stand around and chat for a good half hour. Larry would then surf the Web until break time (10:00 AM, on the dot), then Skippy’s Boys would all meet up in the lunchroom for a 30-40 minute long “break”. They’d all go to lunch for an hour and half at noon, take another 30-40 minute “break” at 3:00, then they spend the final hour of the day standing around talking about football, shooting baskets, or finding other ways to avoid doing anything you'd describe as "work".

So Larry stank on ice as a worker, and Skippy let him get away with it. Gee, what are friends for?

In November 2001, our team of 24 was reduced to 16, thanks to the Layoff Wagon rolling through town. 3 excellent workers lost their job that day, along with 5 so-so people. But not any of Skippy’s Boys – he managed to save them all.

9 months later the Layoff Wagon swung through again, and took us from 16 to 10. Once again, all of Craig’s Boys survived, despite their mediocre performances. Three months later, we went from 10 to 9, once again with good people being walked out and Skippy's Boys remaining behind.

But then in March 2003 Bush decided it was time to invade Iraq (for reasons only he can fully explain), and Skippy, being the Army National Guard guy he was, was mobilized and sent to the desert for a year and a half. With Skippy out of the country for military service, the pro-tem managers actually took a close look at our team’s performance levels the next time the Layoff Wagon tooted its happy little horn, in November 2003.

It was then that our team went from 9 people to 5, and without their buddy here to protect them from the axe, all of Skippy’s Boys (except Roger) were gone. Including Lazy Larry.

Flash forward 2.5 years. Our happy little team of 24 is down to 3 writers, one photographer, and our illustrious leader, Skippy. But the company is finally thinking it’s time to start expanding the payroll again a little bit. A lot of former employees are starting to appear again in the hallways – back for another round of fun, I suppose.

So yesterday Skippy pops it on us: “If they do let us hire someone for the team, I was thinking about seeing if Larry was available. What do you guys think?” Uh, NO!!!

The guy was worthless 3 years ago, and he’d be worthless now. Our jobs are no longer simple single-function duties; we’re huge multitaskers with a zillion plates in the air to juggle. Larry would be like the proverbial deer in the headlights – when he actually chose to work, that is – and he’d take Skippy down with him. It was amazing the amount of the day Skippy’s Boys would spend goofing off when they were all together – we can’t afford to have a repeat of that.

So I’ll be fighting to bring in some fresh blood – someone who is not bosom buddies with Skippy, and someone who is willing to give it their all.

Friends shouldn’t hire friends. Especially when the rest of us have to work with them, too…