The entire office is here at P.J. McWeekend’s for happy hour. I guess I underestimated the power of oversized margarita pitchers and giant leaning towers of onion rings. How could I have known? I haven’t been to one of these since my first year with the company. Hunter was right; everyone needed a stress reliever, as evident from Eddie doing his best Justin Timberlake impression for Horny Housewife. And I’ve provided Hunter with the right remedy. I know he’s thinking I’ve come through again. He might as well give me the job already. My merits are proven. He needs to fork over my prize.
Just when I was getting concerned that Hunter hasn’t arrived yet to witness my success, I spot him over at a table talking with Chloe. I need to find out what they’re talking about. She’s probably sensing she’s losing grip on the promotion and trying some last-ditch efforts to charm him up during my moment. She’s on the outskirts of our two-man circle, and she needs to stay out.
“I hope everyone is having a good time,” I say. As soon as I open my mouth, I see Chloe roll her eyes as Hunter’s attention goes directly to me.
“I am. This is a nice change of pace for me. Usually, I’m home watching Jeopardy right now,” Hunter says, as he takes a sip of his ginger ale.
“I love that show,” Chloe says. “But I don’t get to watch it that much. I have to DVR it and Wheel of Fortune, because I stay so late at work.” I was unaware either of those game shows still came on TV.
“I am digging your tie today,” I tell Hunter.
“Really? Thanks. I like your bow tie as well. I’ve been noticing them these past few weeks. Pretty . . . pretty sharp,” he says.
“Trying to add a little professionalism to my role. That’s lacking in some people,” I say as I look at Chloe. “Speaking of which, how’s the job search going?” I ask her.
“What are you talking about?” she says.
Hunter gets nervous and finishes his drink.
“Never mind,” I say. “Can I get you another ginger ale?” I ask Hunter.
“I’m fine thanks,” he says. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Chloe getting upset at herself for not asking him about his beverage first. “I think I’m going to leave soon. This isn’t really my crowd.” He looks at three of his employees from the mailroom pound simultaneous shots of tequila.
“Same here. I’m more of a reserved person,” Chloe says.
“You know, the reserved ones in public are always the wildest in private,” I say as I turn to Hunter to give him a high-five. He looks at my hand and leaves me hanging. “Ain’t I right?”
“I cannot confirm that,” he says.
I lower my high-five hand. There’s a few seconds of silence as I try to find a new topic Hunter and I might have in common. I come up with nothing. I need to start reading my Newsweek magazine again. I’ll add that to my to-do list for when I become a manager.
Out of nowhere, a man screams, “Honeysuckle, is that you? What the fuck is you doing out here tonight?”
His voice is loud enough to get the attention of most of the people in the crowded bar. It’s an Asian man dressed in a shiny purple suit, a yellow cape, and a matching purple-and-yellow striped cane. He approaches Hunter, Chloe, and I, while pointing his cane at Chloe.
“Do you know this man?” Hunter asks Chloe.
“No, I don’t,” she says.
“Oh, bitch, now you don’t know Fitzroy? Need money, then you know Fitzroy. Need protection on the street, then you know Fitzroy. Need the name of someone who can do abortions for fifteen dollars, then you know Fitzroy. But in front of your friends, I ain’t shit,” he says.
“I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about,” she says.
Hunter turns on his macho Texan switch and steps in between Fitzroy and Chloe. “Listen, pal, looks like you have her confused with someone else. I think it’s time for you to go.”
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but that’s my prize stallion right there. If you’re trying to steal Honeysuckle from me, you better be prepared to come out ya pockets and put some cheddar in my palm. Merchandise costs, Walker Texas Ranger,” Fitzroy says as he flicks the brim of Hunter’s hat.
“What?” Hunter says.
Fitzroy looks at the room, and then at Hunter. “Are you working right now? Is this a date? Captain Save-A-Ho is trying to help you out?” he asks Chloe.
“What are you talking about?” she says.
“Is he a john? You better have my cut,” Fitzroy says. “Or I will stick this Now a’ Later grape gator up your lily-white ass so fast.”
“Excuse me, but you said your name is Fitzroy?” I ask him.
“Get the fuck out of my face, turtle dick, unless she’s fucking you too,” he says.
“No, sir. I’ve got nothing to do with this. But why do you keep calling her Honeysuckle?” I say.
“That’s Chloe’s hoing name. It’s like being a superhero. Can’t be hoing under your real name. You need a secret identity. You know? She’s like a dick-sucking superhero,” Fitzroy says.
“Well, he does know your real name,” I say loud enough so everyone hears.
“I’m a business man. And I got shit to do. But all I know is you owe me,” Fitzroy says.
“This is preposterous,” she says.
“I don’t want to air all our dirty condoms out in the street, but I hooked you up with a rich trick to fuck you in the pooper last weekend. By looking at my menu . . .” Fitzroy pulls out a card from inside of his cape and looks at it. “. . . ass fucking is one hundred fifty dollars. The midget who peed on you too, that was seventy-five dollars.” For a loud and boisterous Asian pimp, he’s pretty organized. I gotta give him that.
I turn to Hunter and tell him, “See, I would think golden showers would cost as much as the ass fucking.” He either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t want to respond. I can’t tell which.
Fitzroy overhears my question. “Prices fluctuate with the market. It’s like everything else in the economy. Oil, orange juice,” he says.
Hunter shakes his head at Chloe. Her face is flush with embarrassment. She finally gathers herself and says, “That’s not true.” She turns to everyone in the bar. “He’s telling lies. It’s not true.”
“I told you she was a nasty freak,” I tell Hunter.
“I’m done with this bullshit. If I don’t get a call from you tonight, it’s your ass. I can’t be talking all this business in front of these motherfuckers,” Fitzroy says, as he points his cane at Chloe and backpedals toward the exit.
“Seriously, I don’t know that guy,” she repeats after he’s gone. No one is buying it. But that colorful interruption altered the tone of happy hour.
The office has definitely changed a bit since last night’s happy hour. I’m noticing more smiles during times when co-workers often looked blankly past one another. The quiet is now replaced by positive-sounding conversations. I might’ve even overheard a few “thank yous” and “you’re welcomes” today. All of these things had even me in a great mood. So I wasn’t the least bit worried when Hunter told me to come to his office “ASAP.” It has to be for commending me on the overall setup of the happy hour and how well I planned it. For the first time I wasn’t the least bit petrified of going to the principal’s office.
I knock only once, and I think I come in before he answers. Just a little overzealous. But nothing can mess up this day. Well, that’s what I feel before I walk in the room. Chloe’s already there sitting with Hunter.
“We were waiting for you,” he says.
“I got here as soon as I got the message,” I say. This is already not starting off as I envisioned.
“Please sit down,” he says.
I take my seat right next to Chloe. She’s grinning from ear to ear. What did he tell her before I got here? Is this about another project we’re working on together? I’m not signing up for any more photo shoots. Oh shit, this is really going all downhill for me. I’m even starting to feel myself sweat. I hope I don’t get pit stains.
“Now that you’re both here, I want to discuss the HR Benefits Manager position you were both vying for.”
He’s deciding now? Like this?
“After a long look at both of your records before I got here and your performances over the last few months, I have come to a decision,” he says. “It was a tough one.”
We both inhale and brace ourselves for our fates.
“But then, I chose not to be so hasty with my analysis. As I was gathering more information on every employee, I wanted to make sure I was making the right pick. I ended up having more than enough information with the aptitude tests, psychological tests, and so on. Both of your results were . . . interesting. But at the end, there was only one position available for the both of you. And it could’ve gone either way,” he says.
Is she going to get to it? This suspense is killing me. I’ve been waiting for months, and he wants to keep drawing it out? He’s gonna give it to Chloe. I know it. Now, he’s just making it easy for me. Trying to throw some pillows on the rocks below before he pushes me off a cliff.
“Here it is,” he says. He hands each of us a manila envelope with our name labeled on it. “Hopefully, we can get past this and all move forward to work together and make this company the success we all know it can be.”
Chloe and I open our envelopes simultaneously. I rush to read mine, but I have to read it again to make sure it is correct.
I glance over at Chloe, and her face has turned pale. “I’ve been relieved of my duties,” she says.
My letter says I’ve been offered the HR Benefits Manager position. I leap out of my car. I haven’t jumped this high since I tried to kill a spider on my ceiling two summers ago.
Chloe reaches into her envelope and pulls out two pamphlets. “A rehab center?” she says.
“You have a lot of problems, and those people can help you,” Hunter says.
I take a look at the brochure. “Hey, a friend of mine’s brother went there. I’ve heard good things.”
“You can put the past behind you and start anew,” Hunter continues. “We’ll hold your position for you until your program is over, and you can come back. But you have to come back clean. No more drugs. No more whoring.”
“I told you that was all bullshit,” she says. I’ve never seen Chloe this animated. “After all I’ve done for this fucking place.”
Hunter puts up his hands, hoping that will calm her down.
“And what do you mean ‘come back clean’?”
“Your drug results came in. You’re on every drug known to man. And some the lab couldn’t recognize. Apparently, you drank a lava lamp,” he says.
I don’t know what to say about Chloe’s unfortunate situation, but I’m happy for myself. And I can’t hide my excitement.
“We will re-evaluate you after nine months at Happy Acres,” he continues.
“It’s a chance at a rebirth,” I say.
“Fuck off,” she says to me.
I was on her side for a minute, but now I’ve jumped off the rehab boat. “Are we going to have to get security?” I ask Hunter.
He whispers to me, “I think so.” I join him as we both retreat behind his desk for cover. We don’t know what Chloe is capable of. She storms out of the room. Hunter runs to the doorway.
“Going back to Fitzroy isn’t the way,” he shouts. “You’re better than that. Let us help you.”
He walks back into the room. I join him as we shake our heads in solidarity. “Can you believe that?” I say. “After all she’s done for us? Please. What has she done for us? Did you get a little licky-licky?” I laugh.
He glares at me. I guess we’re not as buddy-buddy as I thought, not to the point I can make lewd jokes with him. That will come with time.
“As manager, I have a suggestion for you,” I say.
“What?”
“You know how you like to give your speeches and address everyone at work?”
“Yes.”
“Well, sometimes everyone can’t hear you. We also have some very old employees. You ever thought of using a megaphone?” I say.
“Well, no.”
“You know, you’d be like Joe Clark in Lean on Me.”
“Lean on Me?” he says.
“You know, the movie about the urban principal who takes over the crappy inner-city school and turns it around with his hard-nosed attitude. You’re like that principal turning us around,” I say.
“I like the idea, but I’ve never seen the movie.”
“Starring Morgan Freeman,” I say. It still doesn’t ring a bell.
“I like him. He speaks so well. It’s a Negro American movie?” he says.
Did this dude really say “Negro American”? And why does he keep saying “Negro”?
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna make my exit right about now.”
I leave Hunter’s office thinking about my accomplishment. All of my hard work and dedication to STD has gotten me what I wanted. I’m a manager, dammit. Feels good to say it to myself. Now, I have to tell somebody. No Alexis. I guess I can tell Jake. My parents? Winston? I can’t leave work now to talk to him. Before I change my e-mail signature with my new title, somebody else has to know. I want to tell Eddie, but he’s not at his desk.
“He didn’t come in today,” Dolores says.
He always comes in. Well, except that one day when I thought he had an interview, but he took his girlfriend to get an abortion or some shit. We always have to tell him to use his days. Is his wedding today? Oh well, I’ll text him.