Corporate J
Leaving the Corporate Prison
Since my early twenties I have devoted my life to the pursuit of a lofty position with all of the trappings in a large worldwide corporation. These years have proven to be, in my case, years of my life wasted or lost, as prisoners refer to their time behind bars. I have done little other than work for the last fifteen years and have finally come to the realization, yes, I am slow, that my lack of happiness and growing anger is all a result of my utter distain for the practices I have witnessed and in some cases been a part of. I have climbed the ladder as far as the upper crust will allow an uneducated, proletariat such as me to ascend. You see, the corporation I work for is not your typical cutthroat, egocentric leader in its field. It is a company that requires you to become part of its dysfunctional family. Middle management is required to spend off time with their peers at suck up, I mean, team building events. Lack of participation in any after hour’s social event is looked upon as a travesty and you are shunned for not being part of the “team”, even if you give all you have to the “team” in your work. The term team makes me chuckle considering most of its members do nothing but talk shit about the other “team” members while slapping them on the back and calling you by your nickname. No one in the company can be called by their given name. It has to be your initials, first initial and last name, or only your last name. It is like a third reich organization that hires only college grads who are attractive and has them jump through all sorts of hoops and exams to move up from a private to private 1st class. Oh yes! There are ranks as well to remind you of your status and importance. Moving thru these ranks has less to do with your performance than it does your proficiency in sucking dick. I for one have had enough of the two faced, ass kissing culture that rewards you more for how you socialize than how hard you work. The decision has been difficult! Make a very good living as a second class servant to the blue bloods, or make a little less somewhere else as an equal. I’m choosing the later. Corporate J will now be only a moniker and no longer the definition of the person. Maybe I can play guitar on a pier somewhere warm for free beer and a few nickels! So long to my corporate prison, and welcome me home to plebian bliss! 
