I left the house in a panic, hopped in the car and sped across town. No way was I going to be left behind. No way was I going to go hungry, left to buy groceries on the black market from some shady food dealer.
If the president said we needed a picture ID to buy groceries, then by God, I was going to see if the supermarkets were handing out special IDs. I wasn’t going to rely on my drivers license, or work ID to eat. It was early, I figured I could beat the crowd, and headed straight for Stop & Shop.
Hoffman came into the conference room and put his iPad down. He looked around at the team sitting at the shiny conference table, careful to make eye contact with each one of us. The mood went from the jovial, pointless pre-meeting small talk to tenseness. Something was going on. Something big.
“In preparation for your first counseling session,” Mahoney’s wife said, “Cheryl and I did an evaluation of your careers. It took all of ninety-seconds. And what was our conclusion, Cheryl?”