Area 52
With Twitter now a smouldering wasteland, I figure I'm safer writing on something nobody reads.
"So you pissed off a bunch of nerds," says Barbarossa. "What is the big deal?"
"Because a nerd," I explain, peering through blinds pushed apart with a finger, "will put on a costume and kick your ass."
My day was spent in fairly meta thought. I guess I didn't need to explain why I canceled my subscription? But my job is to troubleshoot problems. I can't do my job without input, and I welcome it. Am I the one "out of step?" A mental analog comparison has me sending all our current accounts out to wreck up one that just left.
"Can I at least turn on the TV?" he asked.
"No lights," I reply. "Some Daredevil cosplayer might me taking a sniper bead on me even as we speak."
"Daredevil is blind," Barbarossa replies. "He tracks stuff down by, like, sound and stuff."
"Okay fine," I concede. "I suppose we can watch TV on mute."
I just read the news ticker for maybe thirty seconds. The President of the United States is arguing with the National Football league.
"This isn't helping," I says.
"Did you know Hugh Hefner died?"
"This is really not helping."
Suddenly the phone rang.
Oh shit they found me.
***
"Hey man," Johnny Listen says over the speakerphone. "Can I have next week off? I want to go on a fishing trip to Canada."
"You just started this job last week, and you want to .... ?" I am listening to myself talk, sort of in disbelief. Johnny Listen has the job I started with, and I remember being so infinitely grateful for it. This kid, in theory, is following in my footsteps.
"You are going to have to call H.R." I says. "I don't know what to tell you."
"Dude, will I be fired?"
"If you disappear for a week?" I says. "Probably. This is a job. J-O-B. And job you just started a few days ago."
"My girlfriend will break up with me if I get fired."
"Well," I sigh exasperated, "You should maybe put some thought into this."
"She thinks I am a loser. I got fired from McDonalds because I kept messing up the orders."
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