My boss, Joanna, who is the Regional Manager for the Canada East, had an interesting talk with me last week. Here is an exaggerated version of the talk.
“Jason, nice work on the year to year sales. 73% growth. It is amazing.” She patted gently on my arm with one hand, using the other fumbling in her purse, her face in a broad smile laced with a mysterious wink, or I have probably largely imagined this part. “So, how can I reward you?”
“Promotion.” I blurted it out and then immediately I regretted saying it.
“Ah, you want my job. Patience, patience, big boy. Your day will come.” She is still fumbling in her purse.
“I guess it will be reflected on my next pay check.” I said hopefully. What else I could be rewarded with?
“It's not gonna happen. You know. This year is particularly tough for everyone. But the bright side is that we are not firing anyone.” She is patting me again, reassuringly.
“Could you give me two weeks’ vacation?” I figured it was not that bad if I could scrape some paid vacation.
“Out of question. You are too important for this branch. It can’t function without you.” Finally, she touched on something in her purse and pulled it out excitedly. It was a Tim Hortons’ gift card. “I know it. It is somewhere in my purse. I know it's not much, but better than nothing.”
“Fuck you!” I should have said it in a very masculine way, liking roaring. Instead, it came out like a petulant student whining.
“My home then. At 6 tomorrow.”
