They let 4 people go. Roger Brown, our routing manager and night supervisor, who had been with the company for 35 years; Ryan Streeter, a kid who printed the orders and routed them to the correct department for fulfillment and distribution; Bernie Green, our benefits coordinator and commissions administrator (and backup for my department); and Debi Gross, assistant credit manager.
My department of two (me and my best friend since 9th grade) became a department of one (me). Now, I have previously mentioned Debi in this blog as "my co-worker", simply for ease of reference. In this manner, I didn't have to explain who she was, since it wasn't relevant to the point I was trying to get across. Yes, she was my co-worker, but she was my friend long before then. We met when we were 15 years old. This came as quite a shock to both of us. We were always busy at work, so much so, that I frequently didn't take lunch breaks, and neither of took any breaks on Fridays (the company wasn't open past 2:30pm on Fridays - we had the same amount of checks to process as any other day, but we had only 6 and half hours to do it instead of the 9 we had on other days). When Debi or I were gone or totally overwhelmed, Bernie stepped in to help. Now, they were both gone. I hadn't been consulted or informed, they just were gone. The CFO and the wine secretary let them all know one by one, and apparently, Debi was the last to go around 4pm. They let her go, then they called a meeting of everyone that was left. She went back to her desk to pack up her four years of accumulated stuff by herself.
I was a wreck. Not only was I worried for my dear friend, who has two little boys at home and a husband who frequently gets laid off in the winter, but what was I supposed to do? I was already overworked and severely underpaid, and now the work has doubled, and I had no one to help me. If I didn't owe so many people money, I would have walked out right then! I had worked there 9 years, and have not gotten a raise in the last four, even though I had been working my ass off to try and improve the department and its procedures.
I finished out the last hour of work, and headed straight for Debi's house. She was doing well, or at least that is the appearance she gave me, and the evening turned out to be her comforting me instead of the other way around. She had already been circulating resumes, and her husband's company was doing so well, that he would be given a choice of whether he wants to be laid off. She was really pissed, though, that they didn't allow her say goodbye to any of the people that she had worked with for the last four years (we were all in the meeting immediately afterward, remember?). And, she was upset that it is just before Christmas, too. I think it really hadn't hit her yet. I stayed for a couple of hours and went home.
I had texted Pam earlier (much earlier) in the day, asking if she was coming Thursday, but I had gotten no response. Jennifer said she wasn't going to make it, because she and Roger were both out of town for work, and someone else was going to be watching the kids. Jeff was going to be working late, because it is the Christmas season, and the store (we really hoped) would be busy. On my way home from Debi's, I listened to a voicemail I had found on my phone, and it was from Pam, saying she would like to come for pizza, if that was okay. I had already resigned myself to doing no pizza preps, since I had already spent most of the designated time for it at Debi's, and because of my emotional state. However, Pam doesn't have a deadline, like the Liggetts do. Also, I had reduced the menu to one pizza in light of the situation, so it wouldn't take as long to assemble one pizza on Thursday as it would for two. Sure, she could come.
I took the crust out of the freezer and crawled onto the couch, wrapping myself up in a blanket, to let my brain rot in front of the television for the next few hours.
During work on Thursday, I received a text from Jennifer, saying that she might be able to get an earlier flight back and could still make it to pizza, if she could still come. I was still quite emotional and really wanted to be around my sisters to make myself feel better. We would talk about it or we wouldn't, but they would be there, and we would have fun, and I would remember that there is more to life than a stupid job. I replied, "Yes, please come."
Our first order of business was the drink of the week. At the beginning of the week, I had chosen a kumquat lemonade recipe, since we had the elusive kumquats now. I opened the recipe book to that page, thinking we could still make it, but then I read the first step, which was to soak the kumquats in a vodka black pepper mixture for at least two hours, preferably overnight. Time to improvise! I threw three or four kumquats into a shaker and used my muddler to squish them all up and get all the juice out of them. I buried them in ice and poured in vodka. I shook and poured. Simple and delicious!
I pulled out my little Oscar (a gift many years ago from Pam) and started loading it up with ingredients. I eye-balled everything, since I was in a hurry, and I was only making a quarter of the pesto recipe (the Kumquat pizza recipe called for 1 cup, but it makes two pizzas, and I was only making one). I also skipped the parsley. I have never really thought that parsley adds much to a dish besides green, and I was already putting in cilantro. I was hoping that all of the ingredients would fit in my mini-processor.
The kumquats were next. They needed to be sliced and placed on the pizza. Jonah was watching me and asked what they were. I told him and gave him one to try. He thought it was great, and why wouldn't he? They tasted like orange sweet-tarts, only juicy. I was surprised at how large the seeds were for such a small fruit. Pam minced up the green onions, and Jennifer grated the Manchego cheese while I sliced the kumquats. We threw the rest of the ingredients over the pizza, finishing with the cumin and the black pepper and put the rustic-looking thing into the oven. Of course, we did have to make fun of Jennifer's rolling capabilities before we closed the oven door.
After about 5 minutes in the oven, the crust looked done, and the cheese was melted. I put the oven on broil for a couple of minutes to get the cheese browned and to make sure that the scallops were cooked through. I may have over-done it a little. The crust was a little too brown for my taste, but the rest of the pizza looked good.
The pizza was fabulous! Pam declared it her all time favorite so far. It was really good. The tartness of the kumquats were matched by the garlicky pesto. The lime complimented the scallops perfectly. The scallops, by the way, were cooked to perfection. They were soft and buttery without even the slightest hint of chewiness. The cheeses held everything together and added an earthy saltiness to everything. The cumin added a Mexican flair to the whole thing.
Jeff came home in the middle of our feast. We had saved him some of the Chicken Alfredo pizza, and two pieces of the scallop pizza. He dutifully tried the scallop pizza, then proceeded to gobble up the rest of the chicken pizza, declaring himself done after it was gone. This left one of the scallop pieces unclaimed. Pam was shocked that he would choose to finish the frozen pizza instead of the second piece of scallop pizza, so of course we grilled him. Didn't you like it? What did you eat at work instead of waiting for dinner? Why would you eat frozen pizza instead of the masterpiece before you? The answer: he didn't like it. It is heartbreaking, but sometimes it happens. The upside is that Jennifer and I got to split another piece.
Soon afterward, the clock had struck "bedtime" for the kids, and Jennifer had to pack up and go. She took Pammy with her, since she would be spending the night at the Liggetts. I felt better than I had when I had gotten home. I have my sisters, and I am the luckiest person alive.
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