Take the Money and Scram

The ways people have asked me to go away:

• Thwacked me painfully on the side of the head, possibly in the ear area
• Yelled at the top of their lungs: "Raus!" and slammed the door after me
• Went out with me once and never called again
• Slept with me, alleged they were going out of town, never called again
• Answered the phone, "Hey you!" when I called them, because they'd forgotten who I was and needed a minute to scramble
• Informed me that they had some bad news, that the show unfortunately couldn't keep everyone--and certainly not me--and could I please be out of the office by the end of next week?
• Face-planted on the sofa with their little face buried in a Dora the Explorer blanket and demanded tearfully that I leave them alone right now

The ways people have not asked me to go away:

• Paying me sick money, to the tune, say, of $113 million

But I do think I could find it in my heart to go away, stay away, and possibly even lead a meaningful and lavish life-after-rejection, if I too were rewarded in the manner of Philip Purcell, the recently ousted head of Morgan Stanley. His $113 million go-away gift included a small bonus of $42.7 million, $34.7 million in stock, and $20.1 million more in stock options. I don't know that I was ever given any options in my departure package other than, uh, go away and lose my number. Wait, that's not true, I was given an apology a few times. Oh, he's also being given an office and a secretary--for the rest of his life. And he's spreading the going-away love--much as I would, I'm sure--and Morgan Stanley will be making $250,000 in charitable donations every year in his name.

Morgan Stanley views this going-away dealie as "fair and appropriate to the circumstances." I can't say I disagree.