Getting fired from a German startup (part 3)

… or How I Got the Company Urinal Named After Me

It is a lot easier to get sacked in Germany than you think. The following is a condensed account and how I fought back and ended up earning me some cash and a monumental legacy.

All events in this three-part series took place between post-Brexit and pre-Trump. Places and names have been altered to protect the innocent.

September 30th, 10:00 am

Today was my supposed final day at PhuccSchitt. Unlike my other jobs, I let this day pass quietly. I invited Amir for a drink after he handed over my company laptop and a few forms from the Unemployment Office to Ace and Gary on my behalf.

“It should have been me.” Amir lamented, “and things were chaotic since Gary took over our department. You kept everything in order.”

“He still thinks he can do a much better job than me,” we both laughed.

We spent the evening talking about our families, politics, and whatever nonsense that came to mind.

Ironically, the more we talked, the more I realized how little I cared for him. My Machiavellian self should have made him a fool from the get go and had him fired two weeks before his probation ended. Sadly, I was idealistic about Amir then, and worse, I assumed the same idealism from Ace and Gary about me.

I blamed Amir for taking something away from me that should have been rightfully mine. And that’s Machiavellian.

Friday, Mid October, 3:00 pm

Still two weeks way from the hearing, Milhouse and I received a flood of documents from the court. Among them were counter arguments from Ace and Gary: a collection of hastily written rants on my character, and a random assortment of supporting documents.

There was a lengthy complaint on how I forged my own sickness. They saw no signs of psychological disturbance — whatever they were — at the preliminary hearing. They also highlighted how I was mentally competent enough to drive to Berlin during supposed working hours.

“That asshole was really following me that day,” I told Milhouse, referring the town car incident. “Looks like their lawyer wasn’t checking what they wrote,” he replied, rather amused. “Maybe he was just getting paid to show up to court. That’s all.”

Among the supporting documents was some kind income statement which showed a net loss of about 600,000 €. I asked Janice about this off the record; the loss figure should be instead roughly 9,000 € in net profit, tax-optimized of course.

There also attached minutes from the the board of director meetings. Among the mostly blacked out pages were two clearly visible sentences:

1. “The board of directors requested that managing directors exercise an elevated degree of financial discipline on their daily operations.”
2. “As initial cost-cutting measure, the managing directors recommended the immediate termination of Dr. Tetsuro Yamazaki.”

Even my salary alone could not fill their imaginary 600,000 € hole. Thus the statements left little room for interpretation: Ace and Gary used the BoD request as pretext to get rid of me, and they never thought of anything else.

Milhouse and I exchanged looks. When I gave him the green light to go all out with no holds, he showed his legal fangs and happily obliged.

Court Hearing, Late October, 10:00 am

The dark hallway to the court chambers was empty and quiet. At the end of it we saw Ace casually talking with another person, who emerged from the darkness, revealing his immaculate grooming and impressive outfit that matched his upper-class demeanor. He introduced himself as Johannes von Lahnstein. Ace, carrying two thick binders of documents, glared at me for a second, and resumed talking to his attorney.

The judge and two arbiters announced their arrival by turning on all the lights. We briskly entered the chamber and started right away. There was no battle of wits, no twists and turns, no courtroom drama. It was just a lot of procedural arguments between Milhouse and von Lahnstein. The judge interjected from time to time to keep the things focused and cordial.

In the first two hours, Milhouse and von Lahnstein argued in over the validity of my termination, to which the judge affirmed. Then they moved onto the legal grounds of my termination. It was ruled operational, meaning that I was in fact laid off. With the circumstances established, the judged examined legal standards for an operational termination. That’s when he looked a bit puzzled.

Ace explained how his working capital ratio dropped from 1.5 to 1.2 in the current fiscal year, the judge stopped him, “you can’t just fire Dr. Yamazaki because your books were less than ideal.”

“But we were also asked by the board of directors to reduce spending,” Ace interrupted. “I am talking,” the judge continued, “and I really don’t see how you could claim operational grounds based on a single statement from a board of director meeting. And for God’s sake are there so many company secrets you have to black everything out?”

“You also did not justify why Dr. Yamazaki, among other employees, was the one to be terminated.

“Dr. Yamazaki was it, and there was nobody else. He was too …” said a resolute and difiant Ace. Von Lahnstein quickly signaled Ace to stop and took over the conservation. “We would like to propose a settlement with Dr. Yamazaki.”

“Good, then we are almost done.” The judge looked at me and said, “by law I would have to order you back to work, but I see little sense doing so. They will just fire you again. So I am more inclined to award you damages instead. Counselors, do you concur?”

“Yes, your honor.” uttered Milhouse and von Lahnstein in unison.

After another thirty minutes of discussion the judge agreed to four months’ pay. Milhouse looked satisfied, von Lahnstein seemed relieved, and I thought it was fair. Before the the gravel fell, however, Ace went into a rare fit of anger.

“How can you have the decency of doing this to me?” He demanded a response from me.

“If you have the decency to fire, I’ll have the decency to sue.” I answered.

Next, Ace requested permission to read aloud a prepared plaidoyer. “You are not the victim here,” the judge denied. “Save this plaidoyer for yourself.” Then he proceeded to thank the arbiters for their work and the court was adjourned.

After Court Hearing, Late October, 1:00 pm

Milhouse and I went to lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant. He was very satisfied with the judgement, as the damages were much higher than he expected; almost what Ernest and Bertram put in for PhuccSchitt.

There was not much for me to celebrate. I was still without work, and good luck finding a new one. However, the food was excellent, and the view to the lake was breathtaking. Perfect occasion to reflect on my past, present, and future.

Why did Ace and Gary do it? What was in the blacked out text? Would they file appeal? What if they started a smear campaign? Would the others know what happened here? What if the same thing happened again at my new work?

There was no use digging for answers; I would have to deal with them as they come. But for now, I took my bite on my carbonara, Milhouse feasted on his dorade royale. We did not say much, but found solace that some form of justice was served.

I still have one more question: What if Gary were also present at the hearing? What would he say when the judge handed over the verdict?

Two Years Later, Wednesday, 6:30 pm

While waiting for the next tram home, I saw a vaguely familiar man obscured by his think, scruffy bread. He stared at me as if we have met. We entered the oncoming tram and stood next to each other. He has seen better days.

“Gary had his urinal named after you,” he whispered while the tram started moving. My eyes lit up and took a good look at him. It was Bertram. “He even ordered custom-made urinal mats with your name on it.”

“So it was about the urinal after all.” I chuckled. I followed up and asked him what happened after I left.

Ace and Gary declared victory from the law suit, and invited all hands to a celebratory lunch. Gary made up some story about Milhouse and I trying unsuccessfully to extort money from the company. Janice quit a few months after I was gone. Ernest, eventually ousted by Gary, continued working from Bangkok to manage sales in Asia. Moritz and Amir were still there.

As the remaining sales manager in Germany, Bertram had to constantly struggle with stagnating revenue. Sporadic research grants from Ace brought some moderation. To this date, Ernest and Bertram are still waiting for their first dividend payout.

“Things would have been worse for us, with or without you,” Bertram resigned. “At least you are now out of the rat race. How about you?”

It took me over a year to land my next position, after switching fields to climate research, thanks mostly to Ace and Gary’s active effort in sabotaging my reputation. While I enjoyed the technical challenges and moral high ground that came with my new career path, I was not proud of the knowledge that it was not made out of my own free will.

My wife and I later used the settlement as part of a down payment for our apartment, the same one where Gary tried to enter to hand me that termination notice, all because of a urinal which now bears my name.

I didn’t tell Bertram any of this.