It was a little before ten in the morning when Wilson passed my office. He was pulling a small suitcase on wheels. We exchanged good mornings, and I didn’t think anything of it until he ducked into the office ten minutes later.
“Hey, so, I was wondering…” he said, his voice trailing off as if I were supposed to fill in the rest.
But I didn’t know what he was wondering so I kept my mouth shut. After an awkward moment, he continued.
I came down the stairs, saw my wife and Butch standing by the door, and knew I had to at least try to put an end to this madness.
“You’re going to let him go out like that in public?” I asked, motioning toward Butch.
“Well, yes, why not?” Terri said.
“You realize it will be a source of never-ending abuse and suffering for him?”
From the vault. Originally appeared March 2, 2018
“Good morning, class, and welcome to the graduate business school at Corrupt University. It’s great to see so many smiling, young faces, eager to learn the tricks to success in the corporate boardroom. Oh look, a question already.”
“Your website says we’ll get a one of a kind MBA.”
From the vault. Originally appeared January 12, 2018
The interview went well, until it began. That was when the subject of the resume came up. But first there was a question about the job itself.
“We’re a fast growing website. This is a big spot, the one we have open,” Chet Dinkleberry, said. “You think you can handle it?”
“News editor, right? I’ve got twenty years in newspapers, and ten more at leading media websites, of course I can handle it,” Murphy said.
I heard a man’s voice as I walked down the hall. It came from an office up on the right.
“This decision was made after much careful, and thoughtful consideration.”
The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. There was something slightly robotic about it.
“The company has taken great pains to make sure your departure, and transition to a new exciting opportunity elsewhere, go as smoothly as possible.”
Wilson came into my office carrying what appeared to be a large, flat screen TV monitor. He struggled to get in the door with it, and set it down gently on the carpet next to the chair that he sat down in across from me.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Pretty cool, huh?”
“I guess so,” I said, not wanting to hurt his feelings, or diminish his enthusiasm. “Got a deal on a TV at one of the neighborhood places?” I asked.