In what has become an annual tradition for my final post of the year, I present the holiday classic, 'Twas the Employment Law Night Before Christmas … tweaked and updated for 2025.
To all of my readers, connections, and followers, new and legacy, thank you all for reading, commenting, and sharing throughout the year. Please have a happy and, most importantly, healthy and safe holiday season.
I'll see everyone on January 5, 2026, with new content to kick off the new year, including a fresh batch of Worst Employer nominees.
* * *
’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the office
Not a creature was stirring … well, just one of the bosses.
The bonuses were paid by the company with care,
In hopes that no ungrateful employees would swear.
The workers were home, all snug on their thrones,
While visions of deadlines danced on their iPhones.
And I at my desk, alone with the mess,
For the one who’s in charge gets no holiday rest.
When outside the front door there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the lobby I flew in a jolt,
Tore open the shutters and threw back the bolt.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes did acquaint,
But Santa Claus, holding a twelve-count complaint!
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Not a creature was stirring … well, just one of the bosses.
The bonuses were paid by the company with care,
In hopes that no ungrateful employees would swear.
The workers were home, all snug on their thrones,
While visions of deadlines danced on their iPhones.
And I at my desk, alone with the mess,
For the one who’s in charge gets no holiday rest.
When outside the front door there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the lobby I flew in a jolt,
Tore open the shutters and threw back the bolt.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of midday to objects below.
When what to my wondering eyes did acquaint,
But Santa Claus, holding a twelve-count complaint!
Count One alleged that our practices weren’t fair,
Promotion denied, claimed bias hung in the air.
“It’s race discrimination,” her lawyer did write,
“Your white employees get all of the light.”
Count Two declared that the workplace was mean,
Racial slurs and crude jokes filled the in-between.
“The culture’s toxic,” her pleading did contend,
“And management failed to bring it to an end.”
Count Three brought in sexism — her pay was too low,
Compared to the men, whose paychecks did grow.
“Equal work deserves equal pay,” she alleged,
“But my pleas for fairness were quietly dredged.”
Count Four said harassment was running amok,
Her boss made advances — his behavior did suck.
“Quid pro quo,” her complaint laid bare,
“Touching and comments, and nobody cared.”
Count Five claimed we failed in our ADA chore,
She needed more time — we showed her the door.
“Fired while healing,” the allegations said,
“An interactive process denied instead.”
Count Six alleged that we crossed the line,
Interfering with leave under FMLA’s design.
“Retaliation followed when time off was sought,
Punished for rights that the statute had bought.”
Count Seven was artificial intelligence’s domain,
She claimed its use caused a discriminatory strain.
“Your hiring AI carries bias unseen,
Filtering out those who don’t fit the machine.”
Count Eight claimed her privacy was invaded,
Keystrokes and metrics, each output all weighted.
“Algorithmic bosses,” the workers did say,
“Disciplined blindly — no human in play.”
Count Nine, a wage claim — a class action at that,
Unpaid overtime made my stomach fall flat.
Misclassification, off-the-clock tasks galore,
Our payroll compliance was rotten to the core.
Count Ten claimed she spoke up in good faith,
Reported misconduct we should not have faced.
“Retaliation,” she pled, “for raising alarm,
For questioning practices causing real harm.
Count Eleven pled faith-based objection made,
Her sincerely held beliefs were cast in the shade.
“Shared bathrooms,” she claimed, “and pronouns compelled,
Words contradict doctrines my faith has held.”
Count Twelve declared that our covenant failed,
That our noncompete threat was unlawfully veiled.
“Void and unenforceable,” she asked the court to decree,
“Stop chaining my labor — let workers work free.”
Promotion denied, claimed bias hung in the air.
“It’s race discrimination,” her lawyer did write,
“Your white employees get all of the light.”
Count Two declared that the workplace was mean,
Racial slurs and crude jokes filled the in-between.
“The culture’s toxic,” her pleading did contend,
“And management failed to bring it to an end.”
Count Three brought in sexism — her pay was too low,
Compared to the men, whose paychecks did grow.
“Equal work deserves equal pay,” she alleged,
“But my pleas for fairness were quietly dredged.”
Count Four said harassment was running amok,
Her boss made advances — his behavior did suck.
“Quid pro quo,” her complaint laid bare,
“Touching and comments, and nobody cared.”
Count Five claimed we failed in our ADA chore,
She needed more time — we showed her the door.
“Fired while healing,” the allegations said,
“An interactive process denied instead.”
Count Six alleged that we crossed the line,
Interfering with leave under FMLA’s design.
“Retaliation followed when time off was sought,
Punished for rights that the statute had bought.”
Count Seven was artificial intelligence’s domain,
She claimed its use caused a discriminatory strain.
“Your hiring AI carries bias unseen,
Filtering out those who don’t fit the machine.”
Count Eight claimed her privacy was invaded,
Keystrokes and metrics, each output all weighted.
“Algorithmic bosses,” the workers did say,
“Disciplined blindly — no human in play.”
Count Nine, a wage claim — a class action at that,
Unpaid overtime made my stomach fall flat.
Misclassification, off-the-clock tasks galore,
Our payroll compliance was rotten to the core.
Count Ten claimed she spoke up in good faith,
Reported misconduct we should not have faced.
“Retaliation,” she pled, “for raising alarm,
For questioning practices causing real harm.
Count Eleven pled faith-based objection made,
Her sincerely held beliefs were cast in the shade.
“Shared bathrooms,” she claimed, “and pronouns compelled,
Words contradict doctrines my faith has held.”
Count Twelve declared that our covenant failed,
That our noncompete threat was unlawfully veiled.
“Void and unenforceable,” she asked the court to decree,
“Stop chaining my labor — let workers work free.”
Not just a lawsuit was waiting, I see,
But also an election order from the NLRB.
Ungrateful employees want more pay and respect.
Damn that NLRB and the rules it protects.
What matters now is that union I must bust.
I’ll grind their collective-bargaining dreams into dust.
How should I go about combatting their script?
I’ll call my pal Elon for some anti-union t.i.p.s.
I spoke not a word, but went back to my desk,
And yelled to the void, “Do I ever get rest?!”
I quick-called our lawyer; into my phone I exclaimed,
“How much trouble are we in? To me, please explain!”
Into his phone, he gave this rejoinder:
“A lot — and I’ll need a fifty-grand retainer.”
Then he also proclaimed, with joyful delight:
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
But also an election order from the NLRB.
Ungrateful employees want more pay and respect.
Damn that NLRB and the rules it protects.
What matters now is that union I must bust.
I’ll grind their collective-bargaining dreams into dust.
How should I go about combatting their script?
I’ll call my pal Elon for some anti-union t.i.p.s.
I spoke not a word, but went back to my desk,
And yelled to the void, “Do I ever get rest?!”
I quick-called our lawyer; into my phone I exclaimed,
“How much trouble are we in? To me, please explain!”
Into his phone, he gave this rejoinder:
“A lot — and I’ll need a fifty-grand retainer.”
Then he also proclaimed, with joyful delight:
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
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