I was invited to the retirement ceremony of a former colleague this week. Even though I was no longer a part of that organization, someone took the time to recognize that I had worked closely with this person on the web development team for our group, and decided I should be invited. I thought this was a pretty classy move, so I RSVP'ed that would I attend.
Turns out, it was a big mistake.
About twenty seconds after I step in the door, one of my former coworkers walks right up to me and says, "We don't allow traitors in here." At first, I think I must have misheard what he said with all the background noise in the room, so I ask him to repeat himself. He does, and I tell him to kiss my ass and walk right past him.
The sad part about all this is I could contact his supervisor and file a complaint about being publicly slandered like this, except I'm sure it would all be explained as "he was just joking . . . you shouldn't have taken him seriously, you need to get a sense of humour, etc." and then subsequently swept under the rug. Unfortunately, that double standard of discipline has become SOP for upper management in my former organization. It's one of the many reasons why I decided to leave.
So, here's the deal-- I know (thanks to Google Analytics) that at least one of you reads this blog. I've overlooked a lot of the stuff that was said about behind my back when I worked for you, but I don't work for you anymore and I don't have to put up with it now. Here's what's going to happen: the next time *anyone* from my former workplace contacts me and asks for assistance, my answer will be no. When I explain why I'm refusing to help them, I'm going to cite the comment that was made at this retirement ceremony and the name of the person that made it.
It's called "The Prisoner's Dilemma." You try to screw over someone that you have to interact with into the future, and you can expect retaliation. In this particular case, I'm taking a page out of Ghandi's book and using passive resistance. Just be glad I didn't pick a tactic from someone else's book-- like Hannibal.