Being Sold

It is rarely a good thing when the general manager of the company wants to have an “all hands” meeting in five minutes. Though, if it is a Thursday and you are actually asked to go, you didn't just lose your job.

This was a Tuesday and completely out of place. Just a “quick” meeting usually means someone quit or was fired or laid off. What I wasn't expecting was to have her tell everyone they were just sold to another company.

It is a strange feeling to sit there and told you were sold as an asset to someone else. We weren't given any advanced warning, just one afternoon we were handed our final paychecks and told we “should” have an offer in our mailbox (none of us did until the next day).

I had a sense of helplessness at that moment but also a minor thrill. I was just a number, a meat popsicle, or a number on a ledger. I was nothing more than something powerful men and women cast aside or sold to the highest bidder. the submissive side of me loved that ideas, the dominate part of me… not so much.

There really isn't a choice when it comes to these sales. I was given a choice, accept the offer or find a new job. I don't really consider that a choice, there aren't that many jobs out there.

The submissive part of me was almost coming.

The dominate part of me wanted to tell them to “fuck off” and go out in a flame of glory.

I signed that piece of paper and meekly went to my new job. But, for a brief moment, I was nothing more than a hunk of meat sold to the highest bidder.