I stepped into the office. It was covered in football memorabilia. I always thought it odd when I met a computer tech who enjoyed sports. It makes sense, lots of people enjoy sports. However, myself being a more stereotypical nerd, I don’t understand nor care about sports affiliations.
"Go ahead and close the door behind you." My supervisor says as he sits behind his desk. That's never a good sign. A closed door is an unhappy door. A closed door no matter how innocent makes people assume the worst. I closed the door, heard the latch click into place and took a seat in front of the desk.
"Alright, why were late this morning?" He asked. His voice sounding slightly strained. Others had mentioned he didn't handle confrontation well, and we both knew where this was going.
"I left the house and the visibility was down to practically nothing in that fog. I traveled at the safest speed in the fog and still nearly ran into people," I explained.
"Right, well I'm afraid I have no choice," the supervisor began.
"Whoa! Hold on, there was no possible way I could have anticipated fog. Can you even remember the last time we had a thick fog cover the entire city like this?"
"Regardless, you should have been prepared to leave on time. You had been warned in the past. I have no choice but to terminate you."
The words hung thick in the air. Words I had hoped to prevent, words that heavy cannot be recalled easily.
"You do have a choice though, there's always choices. I haven't been late even a second in over 40 days." I pleaded.
"I have to set a precedent. When I say something I have to follow through with it. You can pack up your stuff and turn in your key card." he said to me. I'm not sure if he was telling me or convincing himself that was the case.
"I don't have my key card with me, that's why I couldn't get in the building this morning." I reiterated.
"Well then let's see if maybe you can leave to go get your stuff and then come back to finish paperwork and things," he suggested.
We left the office and traveled up to the front of the building. We poked our heads into the the office of the lady who would be drawing up the papers for my termination. She was on the phone at the time. She raised her index finger to show that she wouldn't be much longer. She knew what was going on before I had been informed. I wondered how many others already knew what was transpiring.
"Yeah... alright... Yes. I gotta let you go. I'll call you back, I have an employee out here, Erik. Yeah he's not working out so we have to let him go. I gotta get some papers drawn up. okay, talk to you later," she whispered loudly into the phone.
Gossip. I hate gossip. Especially when it's about me. I don't understand why people like talking about other people. It was a problem I ran into a lot at this company. I had been targeted for termination awhile back because I filed a complaint against one of the "powers that be" for telling other employees about disciplinary actions taken against me.
I thought that it would solve a lot of problems by reporting something that everyone in the office knew was taking place. Stand up and fight the good fight. Well, from my personal experience, those that stand up for what they believe in become martyrs for a cause that may or may not have been worthwhile. I realize this is a horribly pessimistic thought, but being fired puts one in that mood."Erik needs to go get his key card and his external drive from his home. Is that okay if he runs to get that before signing the paperwork?" my supervisor asked.
"That will be fine. Just come back when you get that and we'll get everything sorted out," the lady in the office responded.
"Alright," I agreed.
I walked back through the building. I continued on through the garage and out the back door. Got in my car and drove away. Part of me wanted to keep driving forever. If I never stopped driving I would never have to face my failure. I slowed down at a stop sign and let my heavy head drop down onto the steering wheel. That's when I noticed the glowing orange light on the dashboard reminding me that I still have to get gas. Exactly what I need, to spend money.
I crank up the volume on the radio as I drive to the gas station.
Upon arriving I get out use the pay at the pump service and begin pumping gallons of overpriced fuel into my car. I stand there waiting for the pump to click off as the cold wind bites at my face and arms. I drive off towards home, wondering if I will have the ability to stop driving when I reach the destination. A coldness seeps into me. Filling me. Dark days loom on my horizon.
To Be Continued...
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