What's a little HR Violation between friends?

Webster’s dictionary doesn’t have a definition for the phrase HR Violation.  Just because it doesn’t exist in Webster’s doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.  This I know to be true, because I’ve committed them.  Lots of them.  So, like any inquisitive person, when Webster’s doesn’t have what I’m looking for, I turn to the next best source of online information (no, not Wikipedia), the Urban Dictionary.   The Urban Dictionary defines an HR Violation as ‘breaking the policies set in place by the Human Resources department…a synonym for saying something rude, crude, or politically incorrect.’

The Urban Dictionary...a resource par excellence

Just to be clear, my HR violations are always of the spoken or written variety.  I’m not gropey, and as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve never felt the need to reach out and grab a butt or a boob.  I do, occasionally, (or some may say frequently) forget to engage the part of my brain that filters out the garbage before it exits my mouth.  My big mouth has helped me find my way into trouble of the HR variety on a number of occasions.  I’m not one of those managers who resists or dislikes HR.  Really…some of my very best friends are HR people.  I just don’t always think before I blurt.  Or hit send.

One of my earliest HR violations that I remember didn’t start out that way (although, I guess they never do).  I worked in Ottawa for a national hotel chain famous for its chateau style properties.  I started my career there working the night shift, and I had a co-worker who was also my supervisor two nights a week.  She was a wretched thing, just angry at life.  She strutted about the hotel like a big nasty peacock.  She never smiled, and she was completely unpleasant.  Excellent qualities in a guest-facing position.  But, we were unionized, and she was there for the long haul.

Ever seen a bitchy peacock?  I have.

One of the day managers had quit, and as I have been known to do over the years, I wrote her a good bye poem in the style of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’.  It was a private note, wishing her good luck, but also taking shots at some of the things that nobody liked about the hotel.  I wrote it and hit send, then went for my break.  No harm, no foul.  I returned, finished my shift, and went home to bed.

About noon, my phone rang, rousing me from a delightful sleep.  At the other end was my boss.  “What the hell were you thinking?” he bellowed.  “What the hell are you talking about?” I bellowed back.  As it turned out, the angry peacock went through my email when I was away on my break, found this poem, and forwarded it to the general manager, HR director, and director of operations.  When that power trio read my poem, they were slightly miffed (even though there was really nothing of any substance in it), and suspended me immediately.  I was to appear at a hearing at 9am the next morning.

My manager wondered WTF I was doing

I arrived at the hotel and was met my by shop steward who proclaimed that he was going to represent me in this hearing.  We walked in, and the HR director read me the riot act about disrespecting the hotel and its employees and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say before she fired me.  My shop steward, Norma Rae’s stupid cousin, Norman, flew into his rant about big brother, and how dare they read my personal email blah blah blah.  Even at this early stage of my working life, I was pretty sure that I was wrong, and that Stormin’ Norman was gonna get me axed, so I promptly fired him, threw myself on the mercy of the angry HR director, and begged for forgiveness.  A work of art resulting in a 2 shift suspension and a promise not to use the hotel as my poetic muse ever again.  Turns out that slagging the hotel was a big HR violation.  Who knew?  (Smart people, that’s who knew.)

Unlike Sally Field as Norma Rae, I didn't like my union rep, I really didn't.

Oddly, there were no repercussions for the angry peacock.  In fact, it emboldened her for more nastiness in the future.  (Stay tuned for more about her).   I did learn, however, to log out.

Words to live by

I started a new job a couple of years ago.  I was in a meeting with the President of the company, the CFO, and one of my direct reports, a Director.  We were talking about a big project that was going to have a big impact on the number of staff and the locations in which we operated.  This was really my first meeting with this group of people. 

My first meeting...the smiles didn't last long

The Director and I disagree on how this whole story played out, but here’s how I see it.  We were in a slightly heated discussion about this project, and we were trying to figure out an appropriate solution.  He recommended a solution that I wasn’t wild about, because to me, it felt like we passing the buck on the problem.  I remember clearly saying, “We just have to grow a pair and deal with it.”  Of course, he heard, “You just have to grow a pair and deal with it.”  We’re both pretty firm on how we remember it, but the reality is, that in the first meeting this guy had with his new boss, the boss basically told him to man-up.  Not the usual suave way I start a new job, that’s for sure.

Now this did not land me in trouble with HR, but a few days later, I was doing some Christmas shopping, and I ran into him and his lovely wife in the mall.  He introduced me, and because I had recently invited him to grow a set of gonads, (or at least that’s what he thinks) it was a slightly awkward interaction.   It was clear that he had also told his wife about this conversation because she was obviously ready to go all Tammy Wynette on my ass for slagging her husband.

Click Here to hear Tammy Wynette's most famous song, Stand By Your Man

The good news is that we got beyond that, and 10 months later he repaid the favour by firing an inadvertent (or so he says) political scud missile right into me in a meeting with the President that promptly earned him the nickname, Scudly.  I left that job shortly after, and he remains one of my closest friends.  And I no longer think his wife wants me dead.  At least I don’t think she does.

Scudly got his revenge

I worked in Saskatoon for many years.  I had a team there that I simply adored.  We worked well together, and we were really close knit.  We had some really excellent times there.  Because of the closeness of the group, I got a way with saying a whole lot of things that would otherwise have landed me in some serious hot water.  

Saskatoon...birthplace of my daughters and still my favourite city

I remember one day in a meeting, one of ladies on the team excused herself to go to the washroom for about the fourth time.  Without even thinking (notice the common thread that weaves through all my HR violations), I stopped talking and in a completely inappropriate way, I said, “What’s going on…all these trips to the bathroom…what are you, pregnant?”  What in the hell was I thinking?

If you pee a lot, you must be pregnant.  Right?

She froze, then blushed, then went completely crimson.  A couple of embarrassed giggles from the group, but mainly crickets.  Turns out she was just about 3 months pregnant, hadn’t shared the news, and I had just outted her.  Publically.  I think she and I managed to recover from that one, but I’ve never, ever said anything like that again.  To anybody.   Ever.

Still can't believe those words fell outta my mouth

If you’ve ever seen the episode of the office where Toby shows Michael the bankers boxes full of HR violations and complaints, you’ll know the fear that I live in everyday…that someday, somewhere, I’m going to walk into a boardroom full of bankers boxes with files full of my own HR violations.   Maybe they’ll be waiting when I show up at the pearly gates.

One day it's all gonna catch up with me