
At the company holiday party raffle, I'd barely stepped on stage when my superior, Victor Grant, shoved a crumpled slip into my hand. "Special prize for our top sales guy. Go on, open it. Let's show everyone."
All eyes were on me as I unfolded it. Scrawled across the paper:
[VIP janitor status unlocked—every toilet in the company, three days.]
The room lost it—laughter everywhere. Victor crossed his arms, grinning.
"Fair, right? Everyone knows you climbed the ranks hooking up with rich cougars. Gotta avoid hard feelings for the others, yeah? While the rest of us take a break, you can get busy. You're not gonna back out, are you?"
The crowd cracked up.
My girlfriend—and CEO—Rachel Sullivan stood off to the side, watching. Didn't say a word.
Everyone waited for me to explode. Instead, I just nodded.
Next day, over 300 refund requests hit. Cash flow flatlined.
Victor and Rachel begged me to talk the buyers down.
I shrugged. "Nah. Don't wanna save the company and make my performance too good. That'd just cause more ' hard feelings,' right?"
The room went quiet for a beat when I said I'd take the prize—then the laughter came back even louder.
Victor lost it, practically doubled over, wiping tears from his face.
"Now THAT'S how you make it to the top, huh? That kind of thick skin? Most people couldn't do it!"
I let the jab slide and said, steady, "Just to be clear—since the company gave me bathroom duty, that'll be my only task for the next three days. I won't be doing anything else."
Victor froze, clearly didn't see that coming.
Thing was, it was year-end—and every target had already been crushed because of me. All that was left were client bank transfers to lock things in.
Me stepping back now? That was handing over $100 million in deals, gift-wrapped.
He probably thought I'd finally snapped. Didn't even hesitate. "Fine, no sales for you. You think this place can't survive without you? Go scrub toilets. And if I find ONE hair on the floor, don't bother coming back!"
I didn't say a word. Just turned and walked off.
On my way out, I pulled out my phone and messaged my client group:
[I'm facing a position change. If you trust me, please hold off on your bank transfers and wait for further instructions.]
Right after I hit send, a text from Rachel popped up:
[Come to my office. We need to talk.]
I tossed the phone aside and kept walking.
We started dating back in college. After we graduated, I passed on a $100k offer just to start from scratch with her—because she kept asking me to.
She used to say we'd get married once the company hit a billion in revenue.
I believed her. Gave everything to the company. And in return? Got pushed aside. Over and over.
Victor had barely been there three months. His numbers weren't even close to mine.
But Rachel was sold on his flashy international background and fancy overseas degree. So she skipped right past me and handed him the sales manager role.
And me? Three-time top performer? I got the "honor" of scrubbing toilets for three days.