I. I enter John’s office.
John tells me to take a seat, so I do.
He immediately starts spewing out words like an old motor that just got revved back to life. Something about budgetary concerns – “I mean, you’ve seen the numbers, Colin, you know” – and how he really hates to have to do this. Sure, he does. Sure.
a. I let John continue.
I think I’ve got a pretty good grasp about what’s coming. I mean, I’ve been broken up with at least 20 times now, and this might as well be the same thing. After the chase is sufficiently cut to, and the word “fire” is used, I remain calm and decide to pull out a cigarette. I mean, who cares, anyway? I’m already fired.
John squints his eyes, watching my cool nature. Something in his attitude changes as he watches me light my cigarette in his office. Maybe he admires the moderately disrespectful boldness of the action. To be honest, I feel pretty good. Around here, everyone always has a stick up their ass, and it even rubs off on me, so it’s good to get back to my nature.
We’re just sitting there in silence so long that it’s almost funny. I probably should get up and leave, but we’re both just looking off in space with this weird new tension between us. John glances away for a second, puzzledly mumbles something to himself, and suddenly looks directly into my eyes, inviting me to be a partner at the law firm.
i. I excitedly grab his hand for a firm shake and accept his offer.
Years have gone by, and I honestly still have no idea what I’m doing here, but things at the law firm are great. It’s nice to look at my own name on a fancy little board walking in each morning.
By now, I’ve made a lot of money. I told Marty to go screw himself and maybe invest in some legitimate deodorant for once, then moved to a nice two-bedroom closer to the city. Two bedrooms – one for me, one for this little girl I adopted from Laos. She’s pretty great.
Man, I’m glad I lit that cigarette.
ii. After a moment of shock, I decline his offer.
I laugh and say, “Hell no.”
All the adrenaline is really starting to get to me, so I leave the office and run all the way back to my apartment. All 17 blocks.
When I get home, I’m covered in sweat, and I just pass out on the carpet.
Later, I check my phone and see that John has venmoed me $5,000 for “severance.” He didn’t even use any emojis. With a fraction of the new money in my account, I order Chinese food to be delivered. Won-ton soup has never tasted so good.
b. I put my head down and wave both arms in the air in an attempt to cut him off.
John stops mid-sentence. “Yes, Colin?”
i. I bluff in a desperate attempt at keeping my job.
I’m kind of panicking at this point, so I blurt out that I know about the “blackmailing thing.” A few weeks ago, I heard Cynthia mumble something about that to John, so I don’t really know what it’s about but I’m guessing it’s ammo.
John’s face goes pale – and I realize I’ve hit the jackpot. He draws the blinds to his window. The energy of the room becomes serious.
“Are you really blackmailing me about me blackmailing my clients?” he asks.
“Blackmail a blackmailer? Could anything be more satisfying?”
After a pause, he nods his head in grim appreciation.
“Very well… what are your terms?”
A. I ask to not only keep the job, but I demand double the pay.
Somehow, John begrudgingly agrees. I shake his hand, being sure to wipe the excess sweat from my palm before the shake.
After leaving, I shut his door and whisper, “HOLY SHIT!” For once, I have bested the boss!
B. I demand that John spend the rest of the day walking around wherever he needs to go on all fours and Facebook Live stream the entire thing.
Initially, he refuses, laughing at the idea, but I do not laugh. I do not break eye contact. No – I will win. I repeat the demand.
John doesn’t look back up at me, instead sadly staring at the floor as he agrees to what I suggest.
“Wonderful. Then I’ll expect to see you wandering the streets of New York in, say, 30 minutes? I also hear that Central Park is very interesting… you will go there.”
He again agrees.
I return home and invite all my friends – okay, Marty and my one friend from the gym, Chris – over to watch the stream and eat microwaved popcorn. I melt my own butter to add to the popcorn, of course.
Chris and I laugh hysterically as John attempts to order a hot dog from a street vendor on his way home while crawling on all fours. Marty’s just kind of sitting there smiling and looking at us. Weird.
“What a funny, funny day this has turned out to be,” I think to myself.
ii. I get up and walk out the door with a faux-confidence.
I begin my walk to the door and grab a fedora hanging on the coat-rack that John always told me was “for higher-ups only.” The hat is not my hat, but it is now. Again, I hear John repeating his command, louder and angrier than before, but I just keep walking. I step through the doors and BAM, I’m in New York City. I think that I should feel free – after all, I’ve just left the toxic job that I never really should have had in the first place – but I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going, and my cheeks feel hot, like I’m either going to throw up or cry.
iii. In an attempt to appeal to his emotional side, I pick up a picture of John’s child off of his desk.
When I grab the picture and inspect it for a few moments, I look up earnestly and say, “You have a son, John, yes?”
John looks extremely uneasy as he replies in the affirmative. I realize that this gesture has certainly come across as a weird threat in some kind of way, and I set the picture down a little too quickly after making that observation.
“You know, man, I have a son, too,” I lie to John.
“No, you don’t, Colin. You’ve told me multiple times that you have no children. It’s on all of your forms.”
Gulp.
“Ha! Well… that… well, that’s because of how I don’t like to talk about her – I mean, him, because… she – I mean he was, he died… John, he’s dead, my son.”
There is a long pause.
“What the hell are you doing, Colin? I’m sorry, but I have to fire you.”
“Yeah, I know! But the thing is my son will die if you do that because he’s… sick.”
“You just told me he’s dead.”
“I know I did, that’s because… he will be… if you fire me… right now.”
This isn’t going well.
“Get out of here, Colin. I don’t like – honestly, I don’t even comprehend – how you’re trying to lie to me like this right now.”
II. I charge at John, whooping like an animal – all control lost.
I hop on top of my desk and screech like an animal, doing my best impression of some of the monkeys I saw on Planet Earth II. John is not necessarily scared, but certainly concerned.
I rip off my shirt and tie, descend from the desk, and tackle John, shouting the whole while. John puts up no defense, for he is visibly bewildered. John and I crash into his desk, splitting it in half. I stand up while he lays where I placed him.
a. “That’s for telling me my handwriting sucks!”
John pauses for a very long time before responding, “…okay.”
“Good,” I respond. “So no more of that.”
Petrified, John replies, “…Alright Colin… no more of that.”
After another long pause, I say, “Cool.” After returning to my desk, I hear John slowly collect and organize his disheveled belongings.
After a few minutes, John comes back out of his office and says, “Hey Colin, I think… I think I’m gonna have to fire you now?”
i. That only seems fair, so fine.
“Yeah, I get that,” I say.
So, I collect my belongings and leave the office.
A. I request an Uber home.
The Uber ride was alright. Mary (3.2 stars, 2005 Toyota Yaris) was my driver, and she was loudly eating Cheetos the whole ride. She didn’t say a word, but I feel bothered that she’s getting the Cheeto dust all over the car’s wheel.
She drops me off at home, and I go directly to bed. It felt good to put John in his place for a second, but I hope I don’t get sued.
B. I call a cab home.
The cab doors open, and I hop in, exasperated. The felt walls light up with flashing blue and orange squares, and I realize – IT’S THE CASH CAB!
What the hell?! I can’t believe this, and I tell Ben Bailey that I’m a huge fan. Somehow, I absolutely crush the game and even nail the double or nothing at the end. I exit the cab with $2,200, go home, and go straight to sleep – what an exhilarating day.
I wake up the next morning to an e-mail from John. I’m being sued.
ii. I hop right back up on top of my desk and begin shrieking again.
John shrieks, “NEVER MIND, OKAY, JESUS CHRIST!” He whips his door shut.
“Jesus… Jesus!… I mean, JESUS CHRIST,” he says from within his office.
This fun display that I’m the alpha-male of the office has paid off, I’m sure. Planet Earth II has taught me a lot.
The next day when I come into work, I notice that John will not look at me when we interact. I didn’t really like him looking at me anyway.
For the next three years, I continue to work with John, his fear of me never fading, until I get a job with better pay elsewhere. Every year, I send John a Christmas card of me and my cat Nina, and he never sends one back.
b. “There’s more where that came from if you don’t start treating me with respect!”
John slowly gets up from the debris of his desk. Is he about to hit me? Or worse – is he about to yell at me?
He suddenly extends his hand – for a handshake.
He tells me he respects that I’m always willing to put him on his ass when he’s acting like a chump. Uh, okay.
Then, in a funny twist, he invites me to be a partner at the law firm.
i. I excitedly grab his hand for a firm shake and accept his offer.
Years have gone by, and I honestly still have no idea what I’m doing here, but things at the law firm are great. It’s nice to look at my own name on a fancy little board walking in each morning.
By now, I’ve made a lot of money. I told Marty to go screw himself and maybe invest in some legitimate deodorant for once, then moved to a nice two-bedroom closer to the city. Two bedrooms – one for me, one for this little girl I adopted from Laos. She’s pretty great.
ii. After a moment of shock, I decline his offer.
I laugh and say, “Hell no.”
All the adrenaline is really starting to get to me, so I leave the office and run all the way back to my apartment. All 17 blocks.
When I get home, I’m covered in sweat, and I just pass out on the carpet.
Later, I check my phone and see that John has venmoed me $5,000 for “severance.” He didn’t even use any emojis. With a fraction of the new money in my account, I order Chinese food to be delivered. Won-ton soup has never tasted so good.
III. Slowly and confidently, I gather my belongings and depart from the office building without saying a word.
I put on my coat and give it one good tug with each hand so that it fits well. Somewhere in the background, I can barely make out John repeating his command over the loud pounding sound of my own heartbeat. This only fuels my decision more. No more orders, no more questions from John. Enough is enough.
I begin my walk to the door and grab a fedora hanging on the coat-rack that John always told me was “for higher ups only.” The hat is not my hat, but it is now. Again, I hear John repeating his command, louder and angrier than before. I step through the doors and bam, I’m in New York City. I deeply inhale the air and smile for the first time in a long time, free from the toxic job that I should never have had in the first place.