I quit.

Posted on June 05, 2009 by Steve

The first time, it was 1997, and some friends had invited me to join them on a visit to the U.K. After two years at my first serious job I was bored and ready for change, so I told my manager that I wouldn't be coming back after my vacation. All very simple. I was 25, living with my parents and had no responsibilities to speak of. (In fact, I turned 25 the day we arrived in London, by luck the minimum age to rent the Fiat Punto we drove to Edinburgh.)

My next two jobs straddled the dot com boom and bust, and both ended with layoffs. These were uncomfortable and untimely, the first one happening just before my soon-to-be wife and I closed on our home purchase, and the second just before our son was born. Both also led to better opportunities.

Now the score is leveled at 2-2, and I've experienced firsthand that anomaly of American office culture. For abandoning my work, I was taken out to lunch and given a "come back anytime" promise; when given a pink slip I had to throw my possessions in a box and was escorted off the premises.
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