Volume
One: The Road Out
Chapter One
Verse Eight: Cutting the Knot
"Did you hear me, Marion? You're
fired. You can return your name tag and leave."
"I think I'll dispute that."
Marion said, "I need this job. And let's be honest, you need me.
How late was I in last night getting this store ready for Mother's
day? And on top of that, look at my sales numbers. You know that
nobody in this store comes close to putting up the kind of sales
numbers that I do. You'd have to hire three employees to replace my
sales numbers, and that would triple the amount you have to pay to
get the same amount of sales. I am far too useful to fire."
Mr. Wheately shook his head, "None
of that matters if you can't properly prioritize your time. You
wasted how many hours in the back this morning with some boutique
seller? You could have been further maximizing sales potential on the
floor. You are a continual missed opportunity for growth, and your
mind isn't in the game. You don't promote the current promotions or
follow sales protocol. You're a bad example to other more dedicated
high achievers. And now, on top of that you're insulting customers
and they're complaining about you."
Darius Salt placed his right hand on
his hip and watched with a small grin.
"If you fired every employee that
a customer become upset with," Marion countered, "You would
have to fire everyone including yourself. Customers get angry all the
time, especially in big box stores like this. You've seen this place
at Christmas, the spirit of intolerance reigns supreme."
"Even you should know that each
case is different. I look at each case where a customer becomes upset
and judge it on its own basis. And then I compare it with their
performance and their employee record."
"My performance history is great.
You know my customer satisfaction score is second highest in the
store. My sales numbers are untouchable." Marion said, "You
just don't like me."
Maia pulled on her mother's dress
again, "Make it stop Mom."
Mary hushed Maia, and Mr. Wheately
continued on oblivious, "What I don't like is your continued
tardiness. You didn't sneak in here unnoticed this morning. You
didn't get away with your unacceptably long break. Your tardiness is
ongoing and entirely unprofessional. How can I employ somebody who
doesn't work the hours that they are scheduled to work."
"You could start by giving them
the legally required amount of hours between shifts. That would be
good. You could follow it up by not scheduling people on closing
shifts and then opening shifts back to back. There are labour laws
regarding this sort of stuff. Oh and you could give the the legally
required amount of notice prior to changing our shifts. That would be
a good way to make sure people can show up on time and work the shift
they're scheduled to work. Or do labour laws get in the way of high
achievement?"
Mr. Wheately's face clenched, and lines
appeared to radiate out from his tightened jaw line. He looked
around, and quickly spotted the enormous man who acted as the store's
secret shopper. Mr. Wheately waved the man, named Burt, over to the
group.
"Burt, Marion has elected to end
his employment with Allons-Y Books, and needs to be escorted out of
the store for security reasons. Can you assist him in this?"
Burt looked in surprise as Marion, "But
the guy's cool. He doesn't ever do bad on the floor. Guy in the red
tie here was about to hit the lady, and Marion stepped in the way.
Marion's cool, I don't get the problem."
"Thanks Burt." Marion said.
"Your position here is not a
decision making position Burt, it's an enforcement position. Now
escort Marion out of the building or I will call the police and have
two former employees escorted out."
"Yeah okay, if you think this is
worth going Nuclear over then I guess so. Come on Marion. I know this
isn't cool, but I don't have any choice in this."
"No problem Burt, we all need
jobs." Marion said.
They began to walk away. Marion could
see Maia desperately tugging on her mother's dress and her mother
hushing her repeatedly.
"Oh, and Marion?" Mr.
Wheately called, "If you even think about demanding your final
pay check, then I will press harassment charges against you based on
your conduct today. Cheers!"
"I could make a call to the
Business Bureau. They'd be really interested to hear about your
management style. That wouldn't make you look very good. A high
achiever like you wouldn't want a business bureau complaint. Be hard
to explain that when you apply for regional manager."
"I'd manage. The bureau gets more
than enough crank calls from disgruntled ex-employees. And you'd find
that word got around that you were the sort of person whose resume
was best kept in a circular file."
"You aren't that influential."
"Try me."
"At least I never have to hear
your buzzword spewing lies anymore. Just remember, everyone here
thinks you're a lying petty dictator and nobody believes the rubbish
you spew about achieving. We're customer service reps working for
minimum wage. We don't care. We put up with you because we don't have
a choice."
"You can think what you like."
None of what was happening seemed real.
The hallucinations seemed more real than what was currently
happening. Marion paused thinking his options over, they seemed bad
and worse. Darius stood grinning and Maia continued to pull on her
mother's dress. The boy stood there quietly watching. Before Marion
could decide on a course of action, Burt put a hand on his shoulder.
"Come on guy."
"Fine. You win."
"That's what high achievers do."
Burt walked Marion to the front door.
"He can't not pay me. Can he?"
Marion asked.
"I don't know. It's not cool, but
I bet he's going to make me call the cops if you try to come back.
That's what he normally does when he fires somebody. But hey, maybe
this is a good thing. You were to smart for this job. Maybe this is a
sign that you need to find your calling. Maybe this is the start of
something better."
Marion sighed, "Thanks Burt. It's
been good working with you."
"You too. You were a fun guy."
"Not to everyone apparently."
Marion began to make his way to the bus stop. He didn't bother
running and didn't look up. About half way there, he realized he
could remove his tie. He pulled the tie and slid it loose from around
his neck. He held up the tie and looked at it in disgust. Marion
hated neckties. As he passed a waste bin he shoved the tie in the
basket without stopping. He reached the bus as was startled out of
his self-loathing briefly as the bus rounded the corner and stopped
neatly in from of him.
"Now I get lucky." He
muttered bitterly as he sat in a prime seat near the doors mid way
back on the bus.
Marion knew something was wrong as soon
as he stepped into the alley. His window now had police tape across
the width of its shattered surface. He turned and glared at the MIB
poster.
"So what? I'm only lucky on little
things that don't matter? On big things probability gets free kicks,
is that it?"
The poster said nothing. Marion headed
up to his apartment the more traditional way, fearing what he knew
must be at the top. His door was closed, police tape stretched across
it. Three men in police uniforms and Mr. Grimly stood before the
door. One of the officers noticed him and pointed, Mr. Grimly nodded
in response.
Mr. Grimly was built like a giant toad
had bought Jabba the Hut's weight loss video. He always dressed in a
grey pinstriped suit and jacket, plus a white collared shirt with the
collar opened one button too wide, exposing garish silver chains with
heavily embellished crucifixes. The clothing was all reasonable
quality, but looked cheap because Mr. Grimly sweated constantly, even
in the dead of winter, leaving all his clothes horribly stained by
mid morning. He tended to stand with his hand pressed together just
beneath his chin like some cheap children's movie villain from some
fairy tale about an evil Uncle or Court Wizard.
Marion walked towards the four men as
though in a daze. The officers explained that he had been robbed,
with entry likely gained by breaking a window. Marion did not correct
them. They indicated that the likely reason for the break in was that
the window had not been properly secured, and pointed to the remains
of Marion's window system now sitting in a plastic bag. Virtually
everything portable and reasonably valuable had been taken: his
laptop, his portable television and blu-ray player, etc... All that
was left behind was a single poster: The Matrix Revolutions, and his
sleeping bag which was found in the hallway.
Police took Marion's statement. Marion
kept thing pretty vague, indicating that he had left for work early
due to an opening shift, and not correcting them about him breaking
the window. He hoped Mrs. Trilby had not told them about his
escapades. Once they had taken his statement, the Police officers
indicated that he was free to enter the apartment and to call them if
he thought of anything. One officer advised that it was unlikely they
would recover anything.
Once the officers had left, Grimly
began to chuckle, "So you know, I'm going to bill you for the
window you little pill bug. That was your stupid little wannabe
handyman bunk that let those guys in. I heard them in there and
thought it was you. You're such a weasel I thought you were trying to
avoid me. So since the break in is your fault, you get to pay for the
window. And furthermore, I'm going to be keeping the damage deposit."
"What do you mean, keeping the
damage deposit?" Marion asked.
"What I got to spell it out? I am
evicting your little amoeba brained butt. Take your sleeping bag and
your poster and don't come back. I already changed the locks and
boarded up the window. You're done. Three strikes and you're out."
Marion shook his head.
"What's that? You don't like it?
You wanna maybe dispute this? Take it to the tenant’s rights board
or some such nonsense."
"Why bother? You win." Marion
said and turned away.
"I'm gonna get the money I'm owed
from you. I got your references, and I'm going squeeze until I get
blood."
Marion shook his head and didn't turn
around," Good luck with that."
