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."
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