Job Layoffs Cause Leprosy: A Satiric Look After Receiving a Layoff Notice

One of the medical profession’s most closely guarded secrets is that job layoffs cause leprosy.

Not literally, of course.  But figuratively, you betcha.  One Halloween my previous employer, a pharmaceutical company, announced that my three-man group was being laid off.  Because of the time required for Human Resources to get all the legal paperwork in order, however, we still had to show up at work for another month.  The instant we received this news we three were struck down by a horrible affliction—layoff leprosy.

As soon as word of our impending job loss was announced to our department of some 100 people, you could see the fear induced by our dreaded disease.  For the next month at work, the three of us were like walking death.  When we passed coworkers in the hallway, they immediately moved to the far side to quickly walk past, being sure to avoid making eye contact.  Apparently vision is one means of transmission of this insidious malady.

As our final days ticked by, only a very few people were bold or foolish enough as to actually stop by and chat with us.  And when those isolated, brave individuals did, you could sense the impending mortality.  Their somber words were generally, “So, how are you holding up?”  With the entire pharmaceutical industry announcing more layoffs every week, our hollow, lifeless responses were generally, “Not so good,” or “I’ve been better.”

Yet, valiantly, the three of us hung on.  In hopes that a miracle cure for us might be found—another pharmaceutical industry position—we desperately asked a few close colleagues if they’d be willing to act as job references.  “Of course,” they replied, forcing a smile while backing away.  But they knew the grim odds for those in our situation.

After that Thanksgiving, our layoff leprosy advanced to the next awful stage, home confinement.  The company said they’d still pay us for a couple more months—a termination package—I believe they called it, but “Don’t come back to the office.”  Obviously, no one wanted to be near us.  What’s more, evidently during this disease stage our affliction could also be transmitted by telephone and even email, because I never heard from any of my former coworkers.  Ours was doubtless one of the worst of communicable diseases.  Only my two fellow patients stayed in touch.

Subsequently, I surmised that this despicable condition could also be spread by U.S. mail.  I sent Christmas cards to a couple of my previous colleagues.  Weeks went by, but no card ever came back to me.  I guess they burned my card in the fireplace before opening it as a precaution to avoid potential exposure.

Sadly, in spite of their best efforts, my previous coworkers still couldn’t escape this horrible, horrible disease.  I subsequently heard an announcement that fully fifty percent of the department was to be laid off.  Looks like an epidemic.

Once my old colleagues find out they’re also afflicted with the dreaded layoff leprosy, maybe I’ll finally hear from some of them.  Perhaps they’ll come asking whether I discovered a miracle cure that I could share with them.  I only wish that I had.