I fired the housekeeper. In her first two weeks of work, she missed 4 days.  Two of those days she asked for in advance; fair enough, everyone stipulates “pre-existing vacation” when they start a job.  But the other two days were last-minute excuses. She also left an hour early on Friday.  I’m no management expert, but I think when someone calls in sick on her first day of work, there’s little hope for improvement.

I’ve only met a few chronic malingerers in my working life, and I always wonder what motivates them, or perhaps what demotivates them.  I’m not talking about the person who misses more and more work as a prelude to a resignation; I mean someone who starts calling in sick as soon as they start work.

I’ll never forget one guy in particular.  He was hired as a project manager, a peer I was supposed to train. It was a cushy job, with five weeks paid vacation, a light workload, and a liberal salary. In addition, our boss was very generous with personal time. We were free to work at home as often as we pleased, and if you needed time off for a doctor’s appointment, a child’s illness, or a mental health day, you just took it; no one counted personal days. Nonetheless, he started missing work the second week and was steadily late or absent for months thereafter.

We didn’t know what to think.  Who would risk such a cushy job unless he were interviewing elsewhere?  And how could he be interviewing elsewhere, when he had just moved across the country to relocate?  Did he have a fatal illness?  A drug problem?  Was he in debt to mobsters who routinely beat him senseless, leaving him unable to drag himself to work?

One day, when he was uncharacteristically in attendance, he and I and nine others from our department attended a meeting in another building.  When we came back, we boarded the elevator to go up to the eighth floor.  When we were midway between the second and third floors, the cable slipped, causing the elevator to free-fall.  The brakes kicked in between the first and second floors, so we didn’t fall far, but it was scary, perhaps the idea of being in a falling elevator moreso than the result. No one was knocked off his or her feet. We were all jolted a little, and some ceiling panels fell on our heads.  The fire fighters brought us a ladder so we could climb from the elevator up to the second floor.

You can guess what happened next: Mr. Goldbrick developed whiplash and missed six weeks of work.  He was bulletproof, because they were afraid he would sue. I’m sure he had a lovely vacation. Eventually he found another job not to show up for.

So I can see the appeal of absenteeism to a salaried employee, but why would someone who only gets paid by the hour shirk work?  Did she think she could continue working on a come-as-you-like basis?

The title, by the way, refers to a running gag on “Gilmore Girls.”  The mother/grandmother of the girls, Emily, is continually firing her maids for one transgression or another. Emily is played by Kelly Bishop, who was one of the original cast members of A Chorus Line.  She was also one of the cast dancers who sold her life story to the creators for $1; they used her input to develop her character, Sheila.