Firing the Snake Lady
In case you need a reason not to lie to your boss
Until recently, I worked with a woman whose hobby was breeding, raising, and selling snakes. Sometimes her side hustle involved shipping live snakes to buyers — or having live snakes shipped to her.
This co-worker, let’s call her Debbie, was not particularly good at her job. We work with data, which requires the ability to focus, an eye for detail, and the ability to think in a straight line. Debbie had untreated ADHD and a bad work ethic. She did about an hour of work each day, and most of it had to be fixed by someone else. Mostly, she sat at her desk and pretended to work. Of course, we didn’t give her a lot of responsibility because she couldn’t be trusted to do it right. She couldn’t even be trusted to make copies.
In case you think I’m being harsh, here’s an example of Debbie screwing up an assignment. Debbie’s job involved interviewing people who were receiving mental health treatment as a result of a grant. One time, she turned in an interview she did with someone who, as it turned out, had actually died the week before. She interviewed him after his death — somehow. When we confronted her, she admitted she might have put the wrong ID code on it. She then went back to her office and called the other people on her list to ask if she had already interviewed them — so she could figure out whose data she actually had.
How many times had Debbie mixed up interviews? Had the man not died, we would have never known the interview wasn’t his. It matters when you’re trying to measure someone’s change across time. We interviewed people every six months — using their ID codes to match pre to post. Good job, Debbie.
Normally, she didn’t get caught. Debbie was slick. There were many times my boss, let’s call her Chrissy, thought Debbie was lying to her. She simply didn’t have proof.
Until the snake incident.
Chrissy went into Debbie’s office to ask her a question. As she entered, Debbie oh-so-casually slipped a box under her desk — but not before Chrissy was able to read the words stamped on it: live animals.
“Whatcha got?” Chrissy asked.
“Oh, just some knickknacks from Temu.” Debbie then proceeded to tell Chrissy all about Temu as Temu-users tend to do.
Debbie’s lies were smooth. She would have gotten away with it if she hadn’t posted the live animals — four snakes — on Facebook. The pictures were clearly taken in her office. And, to seal her fate, she told someone in the comments that they were sealed back up and hidden under her desk at work.
This is the part where I confess I sent screenshots to Chrissy. Yes, that’s right — I ratted Debbie out. But I had no idea Chrissy would really fire her. In fact, I still can’t believe she went through with it. Chrissy is the least confrontational person I know.
It wasn’t really about the snakes — although Chrissy is terrified of snakes to the point that she doesn’t even like seeing pictures of them. It was about the lie. The week before, we had suspected that she lied about something else — but there was no way to prove it. I think Chrissy just got tired of not being able to trust Debbie.
The moral of the story, kids, is that if you’re going to lie to your boss, don’t post evidence of it on social media. And don’t suck at your job.
