He walked in the door, the same white door, into the same white office, to go to the same gray cubicle. Nothing ever seemed to change, even the pictures of his family, reminding him why he was here, were four years old. Same boss, same coworkers, only two of them friends. It didn’t matter how much he hated it though; he still needed it to survive.
Without this job he would be no better than those people he walked by on the way here, the same people he used to go to school with. He remembered those years, he and his friends talking about their future exploits and lives. None of them had made it to their dreams, or anywhere else they had wanted to be. Not even him, stuck in a job he didn’t even like.
“Morson you’re late!” That phrase, he knew, would be his only welcome today, said by his less-than-liked overseer, Jim. He and Jim had never gotten along. Even on his first day Jim had made it clear that he was not his friend and would never be so, unless he somehow surpassed Jim on the corporate ladder. Looking at his current situation it didn’t look like that would ever happen. Not unless Jim was knocked back down a couple of rungs to coffee boy. Even that was barely below him. He was expendable and he knew it; he also knew that Jim wouldn’t hesitate to put this mark against him on the list of judgements till laid off. God knows, McDonalds would be his next job if he lost this one. He couldn’t even remember which job this was now, six, eight, ten; though it didn’t matter now, he was here now, here to do a job.
He sat down at his cubicle, small as it was. Did a quick check through the papers on his desk. They told him it was going to be a long day. He leaned back as he pushed the button to boot up his computer, and let his mind drift again. How long had he been working here? Six? No seven months, not a one which had passed without his wishing he was somewhere else. Even that job at the bank had been nicer than this. He took a lot more complaints there, but it was from customers not coworkers. And for God’s sake it was his job to take complaints here.
A cheery chime brought him out of his contemplations and back to the real world. His computer, probably his best friend, had finished loading and now awaited his command. He logged onto the network and checked up on his email, finding the usual advertisements and nothing else. The top of his screen announced his job in bold letters, “Technical Support.” The sight of it brought a surge of hate to him. “Some friend you are,” he grumbled to his computer. A list then appeared, scrolling down names, IDs and computer types. He left his computer to get started on some of the paper work. He grabbed a pencil from the Star Trek coffee mug and had just brought it to the paper when a voice rang out
“Morson.” He quickly identified the voice as his boss. “I’d like to see you in my office for a minute.”
Crap, the first thought that crossed his mind, but then his thought turned to family and a four-room apartment with overdue rent. Both of which belonged to him. He slowly stood up and pushed his chair back. All eyes were on him. They all thought what he thought, and they didn’t care, damn them, none of them would do a thing about it, none of them would even ask him what happened when he walked back out, they just stared. He turned then, taking a slow deliberate walk across the room over to the office. His boss waiting patiently at his desk. He entered the office and closed the door behind him taking a last look through the glass and backwards letters at his peers and his desk. His eyes then focused on one last thing before turning back to his boss, a single picture barely visible on the wall of his cubicle, a picture of his son and daughter, arms over one another’s shoulders as they stood below a willow tree, smiling. A single tear fell from his eye then. A tear for all those years wasted, a tear for the time he could have spent at home with his wife and kids. He turned then.
As he left the office returning to his desk, he saw that he had been right and that no one did care for him here and it was just as well. He returned to his desk only to hit a button on his computer and pull three pins to let three pictures fall. He bent over to pick them up and then walked out the door. He carried a new respect of his boss now. The boss who had sent him home.