And They Make Sitcoms Out Of This Shit
#30 of Hockey Hunk Season 4
It's back to the office for Victor...what will the welcome be like?
S04E18
Hello Earth,
Hello, Earth,
Peekaboo, little Earth!
That goes for you too, dearies, hello and peekaboo to you! I apologize again for the delay - it said on the news today that three garden variety strains of influenza have descended on my poor nation all at once, so no wonder I was struck down too - but I am back now, slightly out of steam, but still, not weak enough so as not to at least try to write this one out. I must admit that I have had a few bouts of evil cackle over my plans for this chapter, and I hope that you will like it! Since I teased about the contents in my previous journal, I think most of you have at least a small idea on what to expect...but remember...always expect the unexpected! *dramatic pause*
Silliness aside, I'd like to thank everyone for reading, and always leaving me so many interesting comments! Also thank you for your well wishes - they were a nice moral boost when I was coughing my lungs out. Thank you for the support! It really made me feel better.
But alas, I do not take it for granted - I work hard on this story, and I expected nothing but the best from myself. I hope you will appreciate this work as much as I do.
Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
Have a nice read!
*
It was such a nice day- it had been such a nice month, in fact, now that I thought about it, walking down the street and feeling my shirt starting to glue itself onto my back after only a minute out in the open. Yeah, weather had been great throughout this month, with lots of sun, a few cool nights, and a couple of spectacular thunderstorms, as a result. The sun was already up even if it was barely 8 o'clock in the morning, and I could feel its warmth. A cloudy night meant that the air was warm and humid and would soon be scorching, I suspected. I hoped that the air conditioning had been tweaked during the time I was away - it was already getting too hot back in May, with everyone sweating their tails off as soon as the weather had taken a turn for more spring-like quality.
There were a few furs up and about, some doing their business, a few hurrying to work still, just like me, I suppose, though I took my time. I'd been working extra slowly and carefully in getting back to shape, and I knew that hurrying would get me nowhere. Why should? I still had plenty of time until I was supposed to be in the office, and catching the bus meant that I didn't have to spend time queuing up to the underground parking garage. The biggest potential for a hold-up for me were the bagel stands and the newspaper stands, manned by furs eager to sell their wares to the passers-by, and I was known to succumb to temptation every now and then.
I didn't feel like it now, though, not after the massive breakfast Cobb first made and then made me eat to the last morsel, and my stomach was now full and it was more like the state after eating a three-course meal rather than a helping of bacon, eggs, cereal, half a grapefruit, a chocolate chip cookie and a mug of coffee...
...yeah...I could feel my stomach ballooning with the very memory. Combing that with the packed lunch Cobb had stuffed into my briefcase...I was probably not going to feel hungry until maybe tomorrow.
71 Pershing Street was a drab tower of concrete and reflective glass, stuffed between an old, nostalgic redbrick office building and an even uglier 1970's office tower complex that was about the double the size of mine. Neither could've been described as a skyscraper by even the most delusional mind, I suspected, but at least they gave this city a bit of the good old New York feel, even though this was Kirk City, New York, and not New York City, New York. Mind the bagels, though.
The building was nice enough to have a concierge, though, sitting behind his desk and looking bored at his CCTV screens, dressed up in his circus director outfit and giving me an inconclusive nod when I passed for the bank of elevators. The stairs were clearly marked, but I decided that the few calories I could burn on the short climb of two floors were not worth it today. The elevator thrummed and carried its sole Doberman into my destination on the second floor. The foyer extended into hallways to left and right, and I took the right that carried me from the accounting office and the solicitor's office on the other side and to the direction of the business empire of United Stationary Company.
That name was stenciled with white letters onto a black sign screwed to the wall. The door next to it had some frosted glass on the top and the letters "USC" emblazed on a curled typeface below the abstract blue logo that really looked like something a 5-year-old painted with crayons, but for us at USC it signified our commitment to providing you with the best in reasonably priced office equipment. I could hear a phone ringing somewhere beyond the door.
Well...I told myself...this was it, really...after a month or so out of action, I was finally going to prove to myself that I had finally put this entire shitty episode behind me, and I was ready to get back to the general flow of things, and that included work. Work, work, work...well, here's to work...
The smell of coffee, nail polish remover, the strange scent of recently photocopied paper and various other things reached my nosepad about the same moment when I stepped across the doorsill and into the small foyer. A simple couch, a couple of posters advertising pencil sharpeners and a water dispenser were the only furnishings here, since our business wasn't really geared towards getting customers to come here to be wooed into buying our stuff. Our business was conducted over email and the phone, and the rare visitor probably couldn't have told what we did here, simply by a glance through the front door. A broad corridor divided the office space into roughly two aisles of enclosed cubicles. This had once been an old-fashioned open plan office, I was told, but a bout of renovation had turned it into something more workable. Even the lowly clerk that was me had an office I only shared with one co-worker. That was much better than my previous job, where the cubicle could barely house a Doberman. This was better.
The phone was still going off, and I presumed that it rang inside a cubicle that was not yet manned. I was a bit early, anyway. The continuing sound made my ears flick a little, including the one that had a plaster to cover the few stitches that remained, as I walked over to the wall-mounted, space age timecard reader. I took out my wallet and slipped the magnetic card into the slot, and then it was a matter of punching in my key code sequence and telling the computer that oh yes, Victor Holden was punching in and rearing to go. The contraption gave me a beep, as if surprised that it was really me here once more, and then announced that I was welcomed to begin my daily toils at timestamp 08:18. Pretty good, that, I thought. Maybe I could take an early afternoon off. God bless America and flexible hours.
And...
"Victor!"
And arriving co-workers.
I turned about without hurry once I had pocketed my card and my wallet, and came face to face with the bespectacled lady raccoon who was smiling broadly, her tail going about behind her.
"Mrs. Wesley," I smiled at the middle-aged woman whose responsibility was to calculate what each of us earned during the month. "How are you?"
The raccoon brushed a lock of busy hair away from her forehead and hooked it behind a sharply flicking ear, and her other paw was busy fondling the latch of her red shoulder-slung bag. She was smiling broadly, in the way you see furs smiling at their grandchildren, I suppose - not that I was old enough, but I knew she had two, a little boy and a girl, and I suppose that kind of a thing rubbed off on you.
"Oh, splendid, thank you, Victor!" she replied in a soft, characteristic voice. "It's looking to be a beautiful day!"
I chuckled.
"At least out there," I waved my paw in a non-descript manner to indicate the sunny city beyond the grungy walls of 71 Pershing Street. "Don't know about here though."
"Well it's awfully sunny," she replied, "my husband almost burned his nosepad while washing the car yesterday afternoon, because he refused to put on sunscreen."
I chuckled politely, nodded, and flicked my ears interestingly.
"That can definitely happen," I commented.
Mrs. Wesley clasped her paws together.
"But it's so good to see you, Victor!" she declared. "We've been so worried! Did you get the card we sent to you to the hospital? I know Toby was supposed to mail it but I don't know if it ever left the office."
I smiled at the memory of the oversized card scrawled with names, and nodded heartily.
"Yes, I had it on my bedside table," I replied. "It was very nice of you, thank you!"
"it was the least we could do!" Mrs. Wesley smiled. "It was so horrible, it was even on the newspaper! Did you see that?"
"I sure did," I nodded, not very keen on that memory.
"Oh, to think that sort of a thing happens to someone you know..."
...
"Well hello stranger!"
I knew that voice well, too.
"Toby!"
The deer sauntered into the foyer, having probably just left his jacket into his office, since he was only dressed in a smart blue collared shirt and some black pants, and he looked quite pleased with himself. He had an old mug in his hand, so I presumed he had been planning to get some water from the dispenser before he noticed the newcomer here.
"Victor!"
The deer patted my shoulder and smiled and almost smacked me with his antlers, and his soft brown eyes gave me an once-over while he stepped back into a respectable heterosexual distance.
"Good to see you too," I said. "I heard you've been running part of my business in my absence, too."
"Hahah," the deer chuckled. "Running it? I've been ruling it. Nothing to complain. The stuff is still coming in and going out as it should. Loomis took over the Midwest contracts and I did the Northeast and Juliet handled the general acquisitions, so all we need to do is to have a small chat about what's been going on, and you can take back what you want and I'm sure Mr. Gabriel and Mr. Bambang can fill you in on any new contracts that need work on, and you can take your pick. I bet you wanna take it easy for the start."
"Maybe for this week," I winked. "I want to get back to full speed as soon as possible. I've been sitting around doing nothing for too long."
"Well you're back just in time for the school restocking season," Toby chuckled. "Gonna need lots of last-minute orders on staplers..."
Had to be the staplers, of course.
"Morning to you too, Toby," Mrs. Wesley seemed to remember that he was there too, and exchanged polite greeting with him, "I better punch in now..."
She went over to the timecard machine and Toby strutted to the water dispenser to get his fix while I watched both of them doing their everyday rituals. It felt slightly odd, I suppose, but nice, too, considering that it really had been a long while. It was good to see that some things didn't change.
"You holding on alright, Victor?" Toby asked once he had gotten the first sip.
"I'm okay," I said.
The deer leaned against the wall in a most relaxed pose, and nodded, antlers giving that gesture a special expansive nature. Funny things. I suppose it was like how some furs had very long tails and swept them around. He swept around with his head, which was different, but probably had the same function. Look at my space.
"Good to have you back," Toby rumbled. "Not that we weren't coping, but what's with all these orders...whoever said that computers are going to create the paperless office was a damned idiot, hahah."
That was perhaps the one thousandth time I had hear that quip, because according to Toby it was the inefficiency of the computers that kept us in the business, but it never failed to amuse him, and I remembered to smile, too, and chuff.
"That's it," I said. "Lots of paper."
"And staplers," the deer had some water sticking to his chin tuff as he contemplated his favorite topic, "and hole punches. And glue...I've been yelling to the 3M guys for weeks now, trying to get a good deal on sticks but...you know how they are...the evil supercorporation..."
"Don't forget the Post-it notes!" Mrs. Wesley chuckled heartily. "I go through a whole packet every week....I might have ruining the company unless you can negotiate a better deal on Post-Its..."
"I'll gladly leave that to Acton," Toby snorted. "I have enough trouble with glue. Besides, he's the one in charge of Post-it-notes and paperclips, not me. I just do what I'm told to do. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Usually less," Mrs. Wesley's eyes twinkled. "So good to see you back, Victor - let's catch up during the coffee break!"
"Sure, darling!" I replied, and she smiled, and went along the corridor, tail swishing about.
"Someone's missed you, I see," Toby watched her go for a while, before he turned to face me again.
I shrugged.
"Well I've missed you guys too," I said. "Here and on the ice."
"We've been a bit of a disaster without you," Toby chortled. "We lost to Carter & Prune last week."
"Oh, crap," I shook my head. "How'd that happen?"
"Crashed through the side again and again," he said. "Kipper's been doing his best but he's not as mobile as you are, and they just punched through. Nothing we could've done about that."
"Ohh, heck."
"Still, we've been flying the flag for you," the deer smiled. "As soon as you want to come back, we're gonna show them what we do at peak efficiency."
"Might be a while yet," I scratched my neck with my right paw, since I knew that lifting my left arm too eagerly still ended in painful twinges. "But I'm getting there."
"Take your time, Victor," the deer grinned. "You remember how it was when Ken broke his arm when we played Taylor last year..."
"Silk gloves," I said.
"Smooooooothly,"! he chuckled teasingly.
"Heheh," I said. "I better get into my office before I'm gonna be snitched at for loitering around while on the clock, though...is there anything I should be on the lookout for? Welcome back banners? Piles of unopened letters? A hundred boxes of heavy duty staplers, maybe?"
Toby snapped his fingers.
"Damn, you figured out all our secret plans..."
I grinned.
"I'm awesome like that."
I headed down the corridor, passing doors into offices, including Toby's, with the door open, but it was still dark in Max's, so no saying hello to my buddy, and then past the imposing double doors into the conference room and down the management corridor before I turned left and there I was, in front of the door that said "VICTOR HOLDEN - MIDWEST AND NORTHEAST SALES MANAGEMENT."
Well, that didn't sound so bad, did it now? It got my name onto our web page too, with a little picture of me, and my work email address for contact information. I'd even showed that to Rory when I'd tried to explain to him what I did for a living, and he sounded impressed enough. I should better send him a text during my lunch break or something, to tell him how I was doing. At least things were starting up alright. I'd have to see how it progressed once the office became filled with furs. Maybe I could report to Rory on the number of well-wishers. And Cobb...I would probably have to report to Cobb, too...he might start ringing the telephone exchange if I didn't answer personally...
Well, I opened the door and turned on the lights, and saw...
...well, no "WELCOME BACK VICTOR!" banners, for starters. Just my room alright, desk, chairs, cabinets, computer, a full "IN" box on the table and slightly emptier "OUT" box, too. A couple of plastic-wrapped catalogues for office furniture were haphazardly piled next to the desk lamp. Everything was neat alright. That was good.
I waddled into the room and sat down onto my high-backed office chair and put my briefcase down onto the desk, next to the keyboard. I took a deep breath and leaned back on the chair, and my knees banged onto the edge of the desk. I harrumphed. Someone, quite possibly a certain deer, had re-adjusted my chair. It was gonna take a bit of pumping to get it back into order, I thought. I better start right away.
"Knock-knock-knock", the door said.
Well that didn't take long.
"Yeah!" I yelped.
My door swung open, and even before I really saw who was standing out in the hallway, I knew who it was, due to the lingering smell of Listerine floating into my nose. I kinda sat up more straight upon the realization, considering that it could only mean one thing.
"Good morning, Holden!"
"Morning, boss," I rumbled.
"Morning indeed!" my boss replied in his broad New York twang, accompanied by a near-instant slip of his forked tongue between his thin reptile lips. "Settling in already?"
I gave the Komodo monitor a simple nod.
"Getting there," I patted my armrests, "I was just fixing my chair. Someone's been playing with it."
"Well as long as it's not in OSHA violation, you can tweak it any way you like," he growled. "Can't wait for another visit by that ergonomics advisor woman...whatever she was called...:"
"The one who told us about the dangers of the carpal tunnel syndrome?" I vaguely remembered a bear who had caused Mr. Bambang to shit bricks for a week after her disapproving visit.
The huge sand-colored reptile stuffed his claws into his pockets, making them bulge, and let out a disapproving hiss.
"That very same delightful personality," he said.
" Yeah."
"Well!" he declared. "We're having a small meeting at nine once everyone's in to talk about Maryland deals, so see you then, Holden!"
"See you, Bambang," I smiled.
"Good job!"
*
Thank you for reading my story!
I hope you enjoyed the read, and hopefully you'll leave me a comment to tell me how I fared. Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well! Those days on the front page count, folks!
See you on Friday, boys and girls!