OK, so I don’t know exactly what it is I’d do at Yahoo. I have a rather extensive publishing background, and so I could edit their in-house newsletter or craft their cease-and-desist letters. But “the world’s most visited home page” would at least have gotten a resume from me before I paid $199 for the iPhone 5.
New Yahoo CEO Marissa Mayer just sent an email to all of Yahoo’s full time and part time employees in the US, promising them a new Apple, Samsung, Nokia, or HTC smartphone.
“People are happy,” says a source at the company.
Ya think? Turns out the CEO wants Yahooists (Yahooees? Yahooites?) to empathize with the proles. Which entails dumping their Blackberries for a real smartphone.
According to the memo, the idea is for Yahoo employees to use the phones that Yahoo users are using.
“We’d like our employees to have devices similar to our users, so we can think and work as the majority of our users do.”
STRANGE HERRING sought comment from RIM, which has been bleeding users and market share like a company that’s been partying like it’s still 1999. A RIM insider, who agreed to speak with us under the cloak of darkness, which we keep in the Herringmobile at all times, says that when one senior executive at RIM heard that yet another firm was ditching what was once a staple gadget of corporate America, he proceeded to swallow his own head.
Not quite sure what to make of that. Plus, it’s hard to hear under the cloak of darkness.
I began to think of what perks I will offer my employees when I get my company off the ground. (Literally. In order to avoid confiscatory corporate taxes, my entire company will float five feet off the ground, which I believe will absolve us from having to pay federal or state taxes although I may be mistaken about that.)
First of all, there will be a three-day workweek, but each workday would last 23 hours. (I’m assuming an average commute time of 30 minutes one way.) Also, everyone would have the month of August off, but would have to work two consecutive Julys.
Paychecks will be processed hourly but with no direct deposit. Birthdays will not be celebrated but the birth of a child will be acknowledged by a farewell party for the new parent. There will be only one office, mine, and all other employees, even senior staff, would work in either hammocks or old refrigerator boxes.
Benefits would be plentiful. Health insurance would consist of an epi pen and a bottle of Ibuprofen. There would be a pension plan that each employee would become eligible for in the advent of a worldwide economic collapse that entailed inflation rates in triple digits. Disability would consist of a slight lisp.
Everyone would be given one iPad, the use of which will require putting your name on a sign-up sheet. Vacation days can be used only in August.
Uniforms will be mandatory so that less-well-off employees (which will comprise the bulk of the staff, to keep costs down) will not feel self-conscious. I will design the uniform, using Robby the Robot as the inspiration.
A special monosyllabic corporate language will be in use at all times so that no two employees will be able to formulate complete sentences and thus plot against me.
I am a very punctual person, and so lateness will be punished with a mild beheading.
So far, banks have been skeptical that I can make good on my promise to be profitable before the sun goes supernova. But I will persevere. Just like Bill Gates. And Steve Jobs. And John DeLorean.
If you’re wondering what it is this business would actually manufacture or what service it would provide, I’m open to suggestions.