Thursday, December 23, 2021

’Twas the Employment Law Night Before Christmas (2021 edition)

In what has become an annual tradition for my final post of the year, I bring you the holiday classic, 'Twas the Employment Law Night Before Christmas, tweaked for 2021.

As has been the case in years past, you can read my tale below. This year, however, you also get the holiday present of me reading it for everyone.

To all of my readers, new and legacy, thank you all for reading, commenting, and sharing throughout the year, and please have a happy and, most importantly these days, safe holiday season. I'll see everyone on January 3, 2022, with fresh content to kick off the new year.

'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 to deal with the crap,
For the one who's in charge gets no holiday nap.

When out in the lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter;
Away to the door I flew in a hurried jolt,
Tore open the shutters and threw open the bolt.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a lustre of midday to objects below,
When what to my wondering eyes did acquaint,
A process server holding a seven-count complaint.

Count One alleged that we had discriminated,
On the basis of race by one irritated;
A denied promotion, gone to someone who's white,
Said the lawsuit I read in the glow of the night.

Count Two, racial harassment, words she had o'erheard,
Does she know the ruckus she's about to have stirred?
Oh, how she had pulled that nasty, evil trigger.
I'd never heard supervisors rhyme something with bigger.

Count Three, it's not just racism she alleged,
Also sexism, to which management pledged.
The boys, she said, we paid so much more than the girls
Yet they do the same work as each workday unfurls.

Count Four, uh oh, sexual harassment;
It's true her manager hoped to be her gent.
But the touching and groping, alleged quid pro quo,
Never did anyone coerce being her beau.

Count Five targeted our vaccine direction.
We denied her ask for a moral exemption.
"Conspiracy," she yelled. "You're part of the elite."
You'll care when Omicron our employees deplete.

Count Six, firing a COVID rule breaker.
Masks she refused, even those made of paper.
Social distancing of six feet or more,
Enforcement can be such an insufferable chore.

Count Seven, wage and hour class action, oh crap!
Did we fall into an FLSA lawsuit trap?
Mis-classifications, non-exempt for exempt,
And off-the-clock work too, my butt cheeks were then clenched.

Not just a lawsuit was waiting, I see.
An election petition from the NLRB.
Ungrateful employees want more pay and respect.
Should I have treated them better, I reflect?

I spoke not a single word, went back to my desk,
And yelled, with none to hear, "Do I ever get to rest?!"
I emailed our lawyer, thru my phone I exclaimed,
"How much trouble are we in? To me please explain!"

He sprang to his phone, gave to me this rejoinder.
"A lot; I'll need a $20,000 retainer."
But I also heard him proclaim, so as not to slight—
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"