The quirky site, part blog and part social network, is best known for its users' weird obsessions — like the troublesome clique of Harry Potter erotica writers, whose outré tastes ran afoul of LiveJournal's efforts to comply with U.S. child-pornography laws. (Oddly, the site also gained a following in Russia, which led to its acquisition by Sup.) All that adds up to an environment even more distasteful to advertisers than the typical social site.

The company's product managers and engineers were laid off, leaving only a handful of finance and operations workers — which speaks to a website to be left on life support. Matt Berardo, a Yahoo executive hired on last summer, has also left.

The company's Moscow-based management has told employees it blames the "global economic downturn" — the kind of pat excuse every boss is giving for layoffs, even when mismanagement or a bad business plan is really to blame. The brutal, abrupt cuts suggest something different: That Sup founder Andrew Paulson (above), who paid an estimated $30 million for LiveJournal a little over a year ago, has realized his expensive mistake in buying at the top of the bubble. Someone familiar with the company tells us Paulson lost the CEO job last summer to Annelies van den Belt, a former News Corp. executive, and was given the meaningless title of chairman; he's essentially out of the company now.

Executives at Six Apart, the blog-software company which sold LiveJournal to Sup, are happily counting the money in its bank. And they should consider themselves lucky that Vox, the LiveJournal knockoff it started, hasn't been more popular. At this point, having a larger social network in the portfolio would be a drag on the company's value.

LiveJournal, founded by engineer Brad Fitzpatrick in 1999, predated most blogging services and social networks, and anticipated many of their features. (Some of Fitzpatrick's software is vital to the operation of Facebook and other large sites today.) But Fitzpatrick never figured out how to turn it into a business. Instead, he sold it to Six Apart, which didn't have much more luck.

The weakest in the herd are always the first to fall. Facebook and MySpace, so far, have resisted layoffs. A host of also-ran social networks — Hi5, MyYearbook, and other obscurities — could be next. It's only a matter of time before investors reach the same apparent conclusion as Paulson: that there's a lot of fuss in running a social network, but not that much money.

Which startup laid off some folks recently, but had planned to make much deeper cuts? They went as far as having their outsourced HR firm send out final paperwork and checks to a number of employees — and then changed their mind. The CEO was so spacey he wasn't sure who got sent the paperwork. So he sent an email out to the entire company saying, "Please ignore any package and letter you might get from our HR firm - you're not fired." Ouch.

You Broke Grandma's Heart

The end of September marked my eight-month anniversary as associate editor for a trade pub in midtown, and I felt comfortable enough that I had invited my grandparents to visit my office. I love writing and journalism and still had faith in being able to work my way up and into a major news organization. As a single girl in my late twenties, I at least had a media job, my own apartment, and was working on getting things together. My grandparents visiting was a first, and I was excited and nervous. I had even told the publisher that they were coming. Although I knew the job was not forever, I felt safe to explore my options slowly from the comfort of a position with a steady salary and benefits.

At 10:30 AM, I went for a break. Ten minutes later, as I approached my desk, I saw the IT guy shutting down my computers. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Ummm, updating some of the software," he said nervously, lying. I turned around and the publisher was standing behind me. "Meet me in the conference room," he said.

Inside was the HR director, the publisher, and the editor. They said that I was going to be let go, I was not a good fit, and I needed to get myself and all of my belongings out of the office within 30 minutes. I would get two days of severence. My health insurance would end in a week. I was basically told that I would get nothing, and had no warning.

I sat in Bryant Park crying and had to call my grandparents, who were on their way, to tell them that I had to cancel because I had just been laid off.

Two months later, I have yet to find another job. It was not so much the getting laid off as the disrespect, the lack of warning and the SHOCK. On Thanksgiving I will visit my grandparents and they will ask me what I've been doing, if I have found another job, a husband, a plan (a life?) and I will say, "I've been searching."

If This Sort of Thing Gets You Fired, We Would Have Been Fired 5 Times By Now:

My story really isn't that outrageous: worked as a Web producer for a network TV affiliate on a "tryout" for... almost three weeks. A three-week tryout? I was fired today (two days before Thanksgiving) for introducing a minor and quickly-corrected error into a Web story. This was apparently the first mistake in the history of the Internet. This was also shortly after I offered to come in and work Thanksgiving Day.

Our "Job Re-Finding" Operators at the Tribune Are Standing By!

March 11, 2008,: I came home to find a message on my answering machine: "Hello S—-, this is Wanda from ——— Outplacement Services. We've been hired by the Tribune to help with your job search. Please call us to schedule a time to take advantage of our outplacement services—no cost to you, the Tribune compensates us. We have classroom openings for next week, so we need to hear from you as soon as possible".


I think I went into shock. I found out the next day from HR that it was "all a big mistake". Seems that my name was "placed on the wrong list". They were laying off so many people that I was the next week's decapitation - "List B". But a clerical error landed me on "List A".

Here I am, mortgage, car note, single mom to an eleven-year-old, out of money and health care insurance. And no one has ever said, "our apologies".

(Just to add to the story, Sam Zell dumped our severance pay into our 401K accounts, in an effort to avoid paying corporate taxes. Because this was the first time that action had ever been done, the 401K distributor, Hewitt, had no idea from the day-to-day what the payout process was. So.....it took me two months to pull the so-called severance out of my 401K account. I missed a mortgage payment, had to borrow my daughter's summer camp tuition, and the collection agency calls started coming in. My hair fell out.)

There is a class-action suit from Trib employees/former employees and the "severance" issue is part of the lawsuit.

Um... Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

"Evil Fucking" Insurance-Cheating "Bastard":

I was with the publication for 7 years while it steadily grew and prospered. We had a down year in 2008, however, and it coincided with yet another acquisition.

They had to save money, so they jettisoned me at the end of September, two days after my daughter was admitted to the hospital for another lengthy stay. I'm convinced that the outside insurance consultant that they paid to help us employees navigate the treacherous waters of Aetna-land was also paid to tip the bosses when an employee had high health care benefit usage. But to make things worse, they gave me no severance, arguing that I was a "new hire" to them, instead of an editor who grew that damn title into a 7-million property. Evil fucking bastard.

"my newest job is reading Gawker in my pajamas all day and getting
rejected by literary agents."

I have a journalism degree from NYU and three years of newspaper experience, including a very short stint at the Daily News last summer that didn't work out (that's a whole other story). This means I'm perfectly qualified to get laid off as a hedge-fund receptionist.

At my two-month gig through a temp agency, I watched analysts and traders freak the fuck out about Lehman Brothers and every subsequent turn of the market (examples: "Do I think the world is coming to an end? It's already come to an end and we're just picking up the pieces," "Let's do six hours of pregaming and relive our past glory," and "I've had it with this trading shit"). Then I restocked the candy
in the tiny front desk jar, made conversation about Smarties and got snapped at about mail sorting by from admin assistant who didn't even graduate from community college.

The hedge fund started liquidating its accounts and the woman who got me from the temp agency turned in her notice, but I still had hope that maybe, just maybe, I could fill that job during the final months
of the company, get health insurance and not pinch pennies anymore.

They started interviewing hot blonde temps for the job instead. By the way, I have dark hair. And that's when I learned of my demise in a Gmail chat window. One of the assistants led me to her desk to sign my
timesheet. As she signed it, my eyes fled to her computer, where I saw these words in the little Gchat box: "Let's use one of these girls to replace Kristie."

One week later, I got a call from the temp agency say that I just worked my last day there and that the company couldn't afford me anymore. Yeah, but they can still afford to hire hot blondes and company-wide bagels on Fridays, right?

Now, my newest job is reading Gawker in my pajamas all day and getting rejected by literary agents.

Sharing is caring and we'll all get through this together.

"So, I just got laid off again! Right before the holidays. Nothing really interesting about the layoff though, except that it sucks."

Good luck, comrade. Srsly.

Fired for Twittering Enjoyable Life:

It's been almost two months since I went through "the talk." I worked in PR, and several times each week I would work 2 hours extra for no additional compensation; I considered it investing in future raises and perks. One month before I was sacked, I received the promised raise amid a deluge of praise from my boss. Of course that little extra cash went straight to the student loan monster I've been battling for years.

And so when the Friday evening came when I was quietly told (by an embarrassed HR person) to pack up and leave without severance, I was relieved beyond belief. Since that day, I've hit the parks, museum exhibits and cafes, stealing them back bit by bit from the tourists.

So why was I canned? Well, aside from the fact that the company is headed majorly downhill, I came to find out that they decided I'd be a prime candidate to let go because they had been following my Twitter (which I hardly even used) and were jealous of the free time I didn't donate to working even more extra hours. Now all I have is delicious free time far away from them.

"I Was the Last One in My Family With a Job:

Three months ago, I turned down 5 job offers to work for a friend's internet company. I wasn't going to take it, but they kept offering me more money, so I caved to my capitalist side. As recently as two days ago, we had a company meeting assuring us no one would be laid off, and not to worry about job security.

Imagine my surprise when this morning, while taking a nap after I worked an all-nighter to finish a major database cleanup, my boss called me up to let me know they were making cuts, and I was one of them. I'm getting one more paycheck, and the health insurance I'd finally earned YESTERDAY would be cut off immediately. They waited until I had clocked another 85 hour week fixing their database nightmare to do it.

Best part? I was the last one in my family with a job. My 2 sisters, mother, and father are all unemployed after being laid off. Five college graduates, two with master's degrees, and none of us can find steady work.

Actually, the best part is that when I told my best friend that I'd given up other great jobs only to be laid off so soon, he said, "HA! You pulled a Moe. You have to send this to Gawker."

Well, thanks! But sorry about your firing...

Pulling a George Costanza:

I work at a small newspaper in Connecticut, which has recently been hemmorhaging employees. Nearly half a dozen staff writers have left so far, under their own volition, until today. We just laid off two writers and a photographer.

Just earlier this week, one reporter who resigned shortly before this, asked to rescind his resignation. He was told his job doesn't exist anymore.

Get Well Soon! Yeah Right:

I had been working for several months for a company that deliberately kept me just under full time to avoid having to offer me benefits. I got sick, and because I didn't have health insurance I didn't go to the doctor (and kept going to work). By the time I was finally dragged to the emergency room by a friend, my illness required a five-night hospital stay.

The day I got home from the hospital, my manager came to my house to 'check on me.' I was surprised at her thoughtfulness until I found out that along with flowers, she had also brought a severance check. I'm still paying off that hospital bill.

Black Saturday:

I was on a nasty project— five days a week on the road, working at home both weekend days. It was awful. The whole effort had broken down to the point where we had 7:30 am and 5 pm status meetings every day. It was an obscene way to live, and it had been going on for months. Meanwhile, everyone around me was dropping like flies. Then, I got that expected phone call for which I was still unprepared. "Can you come into the office tomorrow morning at 10?" I got the call on a Friday. I was brought into the office on a fucking Saturday to be laid off.

Like everyone else, it seems, it was the best thing that happened to me. I got a lucrative freelancing gig that lasted more than a year (and came to an end two days before Christmas with no notice ... yet another gem).

"Don't Cry. No, Really."

I got laid off last Thursday and I must say I've never been so happy in my life. They called me into the office (I work from home) and my boss saw me and burst into tears. She said that these are the "the toughest of times" - I thought "No shit!" What really was amusing to me was that I ended up consoling HER! She started talking about her long, sleepless nights wrestling with this decision, telling me about her kids worrying about he,r and how she was worried about her job and future with the company.

I just smiled, got up and gave her a big hug and reassured her that i would be OK. And that I had already accepted an offer from our chief compeitior and laughed that I had my letter of resignation with me! The tone oddly and quickly changed [after that]...

The King of Layoffs

As the recession started creeping in, I had just quit a touring rock band and went to work for The Man. This particular (very big) bank started having some serious problems that were very well-publicized. I got called into the office, was told to pack my stuff; they were sorry. Then I went to a much smaller, yet very well-known investment bank. Things got bad there and yes, my boss called me into her office and blah, blah, blah - you know the drill.

Six weeks of unemployment later I was at a major corporation. My manager asked to meet with me at the end of the day. Knowingly, I filled a shopping bag with my belongings and —with head held high—walked into the office, plonked the bag of my belongings on her desk. She just looked at it and nodded. I am either king layoff or the kiss of death for any company. Maybe I should apply to the Post next.

"Fuck You":

After nearly 3 years as a newspaper reporter, I finally took a week's vacation. On my first day back, my officemate called and said there would be a mandatory meeting of all editorial people in the main office.

I walked in, sat down in the crowded room, and noticed a very uncomfortable vibe right away. Then the executive editor said that all the part-time people (which included me) had been let go. After he stopped talking, I said, "I assume, then, that means me, also?"

Without looking me in the eye, he told me they had been unable to reach me at home, unlike all the other part-timers. Fuming, I reported to HR only to be told there was no one there who could delineate what would happen next. I was told to sit in a chair out in the main hallway and wait. Yeah, I was gonna do that.

I threw my security badge on the nearest desk, told them I wasn't waiting for anyone, and stalked out. An HR woman stretched out her hand to me and started saying, "Oh, I'm sorry..." I looked at her and said, "Fuck you." It was juvenile, I admit. It also felt good.

Crying And Drinking:

I was off work for jury duty. When I left the courtroom and checked my messages, there was a voice mail from HR asking me to call right away. I did, and the HR lady laid me off over the phone. She even cried.

So I go back to the courthouse and, when they called court back into session, asked for permission to approach the judge. I told him what happened. He and the attorneys were horrified and let me go from the jury. I went to the office and was accompanied by a security guard to my cubicle, where I packed up my personal belongings, while some co-workers sobbed quietly in their cubicles wondering when it would happen to them.

The others who had been axed had been gone for hours already getting hammered at a local bar.

"Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me":

I got laid off early this year after working extremely long hours through the holidays on an extra project that was unnecessary.

I was obviously shocked, and then had to sit there for an HOUR AND A HALF while the HR woman went through my severance package in inane detail (including the fact that my medical benefits were over THAT DAY).

Visibly shaken and now feeling tortured, I asked if I could please get my personal belongings (plus, I was a little embarrassed because I had sweaty gym clothes in my locker that I really don't want anyone to touch/look at), the HR goes "What? Do you really want to get your stuff now? After all this?" Um, yes bitch. I do.

Best thing that ever happened to me.

SylviaFired.doc:

My boss didn't know how to save anything into different folders, so it all went into her "Annie's Stuff" folder on the shared drive. I had access, so I spent many merry months reading her Christmas letters, letters to an ex-baby daddy, and the performance reviews of my coworkers. One day I saw a new file with "Sylvia Fired.doc" on it. The dismissal form she'd filled out was full of misspellings and grammatical errors—I spent my last few hours at work copyediting my own dismissal letter. It was the most fulfilling project I took on during my time there.

Tell Your Mom She's Fired:

I worked at a publishing company for a total of 18 years and was laid off last week on a day that I wasn't in the office. Did I get a phone call from my boss? No... he first (in person) told my 19-year-old son (who had been hired in the spring) that he was being let go... then told him about me.

Who called to tell me? My also-laid-off son, who had never known me going to any other job.

Thanks for Collating:

"I have a friend who worked in HR. He was asked to put together the exit packages that are given to people who are laid off. The day after he finished putting them all together, he was handed one."

Finally, to take your mind off the getting-fired stuff, here's a truly inspirational memo passed on to us by a disgruntled former diamond-company employee. It's from her boss, who we are assured was totally incompetent:

I have also noticed an extreme high volume of personal calls lately. If you need to talk to someone for 5 minutes twice a day - I get it, if you can talk to them when you are on your own time and not on my time - I'd prefer it. We are not here to play. I need results and fast! I need each and everyone of you working at your best ability and there is no room for slacking. Not only are we in a difficult economy but we are in a difficult industry with people shutting down all around us...WE WILL PREVAIL and we will RISE ABOVE THE REST. But we will not if you don't help make it happen

Let's make it happen - don't complain about others, don't complain about your workload (guess what - it's no different anywhere else) just MAKE IT HAPPEN and WORRY ABOUT YOURSELF! CHIP AWAY at the projects ONE BY ONE, come up with suggestions on how to improve. If you are sitting idle that's not good - talk to me about it –. Let's come up with a plan on how to MAKE THE BIG PICTURE HAPPEN! If you are complaining...why are you complaining, and can we come up with a solution? I know you are all capable of this. Let's make it happen.

Let's make it happen, everyone.

"no one probably reads either Women's Day Special or Boating"

these both happened 2 weeks and 1 week ago, respectively. first, half of the team that does the Women's Day Special Publications was let go, leaving four sad women behind to do it all. then a few days later, 4 members of the Boating magazine staff were kicked to the curb. rumor has it that both titles are going to be scaled back as far as how often they are published. (this would be a great place to make some "Hachette Filipacchi is a sinking ship" pun, but that might be way too easy for you guys). No one probably mentioned this to Gawker because no one probably reads either Women's Day Special Pub or Boating mag. i work here, and i still don't.

Conde Nasties Resign Themselves to Freelancing

Keith Blanchard, former EIC of Maxim, recently started a site called TheDailyLowdown.com. He's had trouble finding freelancers to work for the slave wages he's paying but said so far this week he's been inundated with requests for work, with many of the people having Conde Nast email addresses.

Fill Out Your Self-Evaluation; Then You're Fired

Last June my boss' boss sent me an email one afternoon asking to meet the following morning for my annual review. I thought it odd that the request came from him rather than from my boss, no one else in the organization was doing reviews, and he hadn't asked me to fill out the typical self-evaluation form. I asked if I should fill out a form and he was dismissive, said I could do it or not.

Red flags were flying, but I got my hands on a copy of the blank form and spent the rest of the afternoon, and the evening at home, completing a thoughtful, thorough self-evaluation, with goals and objectives for the next year. The next morning he came into my boss' office for the meeting, waved his copy of my evaluation form, and said, "We don't really need this. I'm not happy with the way things are going. I think you should look for a new job."

You're Just a Visitor Now

I walked into the employee's entrance of my building and the security guard said: "Visitors must use the main entrance."

So I had to walk around to the front, trade my (deactivated) employee badge for a visitor's badge, and then walk up to my office to clear out my personal effects - for which the cleaning guy had thoughtfully left a couple black plastic trash bags.

Work Nights & Weekends (Until You're Fired)

I moved to Portland, Maine to take a job as the content producer for MaineBusiness.com, which is owned by the Portland Press Herald, which is swiftly going under. I asked the guy who was hiring me, the head of the web products, if I there was going to be any chance that I would get laid off because I didn't want the job if there was. I was assured there was no way — because we were web people! Six weeks later I was canned.

Because they felt so bad for me they told me there was a night position at the paper. I would be cutting and pasting stories that other reporters wrote onto the website from 6:00 pm to 2:00 am, Tuesday through Saturday. Oh and if I didn't take it the company would change my status from "laid off" to "quit" — so there would go my unemployment benefits. I begrudgingly took the job.

After a panic attack that I was losing not only my nights but my weekends as well I started my new job. Six weeks later I was laid off. Again

"One big giant ass fuck, basically"

So, I worked for a company that was contracted by corporations to run their temp worker sourcing, I guess as a way to keep costs lower or something. Anyway, our company and the software we used was bought out by another company in the spring of 2007. The 'new' conglomerate company celebrated by flying everyone to Vegas to stay at the Bellagio for a weekend, including meals, and included a ticket to see Cirque d'Soleil or whatever for good measure. Oh, we also got $50 in chips for the Bellagio to use, which I promptly cashed in to use for food cause fuck that shit is expensive.

Six months later, the rumblings begin. Some people were laid off in another division a few weeks prior, one of my co-workers was forced to work for an Asian branch of a company, making her schedule change from 8am - 6pm EST to 6pm - 4am EST MAGICALLY overnight! Also, our boss stopped showing up to work for the two weeks prior, blaming stuff on her daughter but her daughter accidentally called the office at least twice in this period looking for her. Anyway, we get an email from corporate instructing everyone not to return to work until further notice.

I guess they ran out of money and filed for Chapter 11. Hundreds of temps at the companies we contracted for were never paid, and they weren't even WORKING for my company, just had the misfortune of being paid through them. Oh, I didn't get my final pay until five months later. Apparently, they hadn't been paying insurance premiums either and people who went to the doctor in November or December were being denied their claims because they had no idea they weren't insured any longer. One big giant ass fuck, basically.

[Photo: cover of the awesome Temp Slave! anthology]

(As always, if you have a layoff story, send it to tips@gawker.com)

Laid off 3 times in a year:

Yes, I have been laid off three times in a year. Actually, it was slightly less than 11 months.

Last October I was closing in on my 15th month at a publisher of magazines aimed at New York City tourists — I affectionately refer to it as The Worst Company Ever. The publisher is 200 years old, wears a giant wig and diapers, sings show tunes for clients who give in to her just to make her stop and is, essentially, an advertising sales person who very luckily found herself in the position but doesn't have the taste level to handle it. (The place has a turnover rate that rivals a Walmart store—last year's holiday card required the removal of 13 names, this year it's 15.). Months went by, and my turn only came up when I jokingly threw away a size large, "Made in Haiti" polo shirt with the company logo embroidered on the chest in my trash can.

In May, it happened again. This time, I wanted the job—I liked the job. I would be designing licensed accessories and stationery—adeparture from my publishing background, but a growth industry. Recession proof. The next week, I got my first samples back from Hong Kong on Wednesday, I got my health insurance on Thursday, and I — along with three others—was laid off on Friday. The best part about it is that one vice president took us all aside to tell us, while the other vice president took the spared to the showroom for a pep talk. I was in the bathroom, and didn't find out for hours that I was not one of the spared.

Now, in September, I was enjoying my eighth week freelancing at a company I really liked...Then, at 10:00 a.m. on a Friday I was unceremoniously told that that day would be my last and that all freelancers were being cut indefinitely. But, "thanks." I was drinking by 5:30.

And, now ... I'm a receptionist.

A "Classic Banking Fuckup," IM'd For All to See:

A friend at a big bank was recently informed of the elimination of his entire division via Reuters. A disgruntled internal source leaked it before the bank came up with a termination schedule, sold the division, or closed out its positions.The wire agency writeup about the elimination was picked up by an employee, and immediately IMed out, line by line, to the entire team.

Management panicked and shepherded everyone into a closed door meeting in order to prevent a trading floor riot. They've all been required to report to work for the past month while HQ develops a strategy that will minimize lawsuits for mental suffering. Still no status on who has a job. Another classic banking fuckup.

Let's Wait 'Til After Their Anniversary:

This was back in 2001. I worked at a small creative ad agency in the West Village. My wife also worked there. Together we made just enough to live in Manhattan and have a life. So, September 11 comes along and things get messy... By the end of September, there were already rumors of layoffs.Finally, layoff day came. It was supposed to be on Wednesday, but they moved it to Thursday. I got the axe. I went to my wife's office and she consoled me. Then it was her turn. She got canned. Why? Because the Creative Director thought she would feel uncomfortable working in the office that her husband was laid off from.

Oh, and the reason they moved the layoffs to Thursday? A friend of ours tipped them off that Wednesday was our wedding anniversary. Probably the worst part was that in the shadow of what was going on in the city at the time, none of this mattered. So we could not feel sorry for ourselves. And we didn't. We stayed and volunteered until we ran out of money and prospects and left the city just before Christmas.

Typical:

At my pre-ordained weekly meeting with my supervisor I was told I was being let go because the company was "going in a different direction". That direction, however, was not eliminating my position, but rather giving it to the intern who just graduated two weeks prior. I assume that move is saving them some salary payout and increasing their eye-candy quotient.

Anyway—have a good workday, everyone!

My husband got laid off unexpectedly—on his birthday, no less. He had been traveling for work for two straight weeks, then they made him sit through a full day of bullshit meetings that were supposed to continue into a company dinner that night. They dropped the ax right before he was set to leave for the restaurant.

Again, on his birthday, after he'd been away for over two weeks. I had sent his birthday cards to his office because I knew that he would get them before he would see me. They wouldn't let him go through his mail to get them. He was allowed to take only the personal photographs from his office and then was forced to sign a form that stated that they did not owe him any money — even though they owed him all his expenses from his two weeks on the road. It took three months and we finally just got that check.

There were a few other layoffs earlier this year, and those people got more in their severance packages. However the company must have realized that they were losing money at an alarming pace so they cut the severance packages drastically... To top it off, he was unable to sell his stock in the company because the timing of his layoff was during a "blackout period." He probably would have only made like a dollar a share. Now, the company's stock is trading at fifty cents a share and so there is nothing of value to sell anymore anyway.

Some consolation: The assholes who are in charge don't stand to make any money on their stock options barring a miracle buyout, which would probably never happen because the place is such a mess and the people who are now in charge are completely incompetent.

If you print this, please keep it anonymous... unless it's after Friday when the severance package runs out. Then we can say whatever we want about those DICKS.

Eloquently put! Now, the story of the forgotten Downsized Employee:

My old company—a boutique ad agency in the Financial District—went through three rounds of layoffs throughout late spring and the summer. In the second round, they laid off five or six people, and then called a meeting immediately afterward with the rest of the staff.

I'll forgive the fact that they called this meeting while the fired were still cleaning out their desks. But the bumbling owners decided it would be helpful to go through with the rest of us a list of the people they laid off. But one of the people they announced on the list was out of the office that day, and the owners were too inept to realize that they hadn't actually laid him off yet. So now everyone in the agency but him knew what was to come the next day. Someone must have tipped him off, because he came in the next day, collected his things and left.