‘Uh-oh,’ said the counter girl.
Pulpy turned to see Dan waving at him from the cream and sugar.
There was the cream-and-sugar side, or the milk-and-sweetener side, which was where you ended up if you weren’t fast enough. Pulpy was never fast enough.
He watched Dan wielding the carton of half-and-half amid the throng of clerical staff that always encircled the coffee fixings, their shoulders working as they stirred.
Dan emerged with his mug held high. He was wearing the bulky shearling coat Pulpy had seen in the closet earlier. ‘Whew! You gotta be a bull in there!’ he said, jerking his rectangle head back at the circle.
Pulpy gave a half-shrug and looked down at the dark liquid in his Styrofoam cup, already turning cold.
‘You should get yourself a proper mug,’ said Dan. ‘Bulls need real mugs.’
‘I guess they do.’ Pulpy found himself nodding.
Dan’s mug was red with white lettering. ‘Back off – it’s early,’ the mug said. Pulpy wondered if he drank out of that mug all day. ‘The mug makes the man,’ said Dan. ‘Think about that.’
‘I’ll bring one from home one of these days,’ said Pulpy.
‘Just take one from the staff cupboard. Make it your own.’
‘But what if it’s somebody else’s?’
‘Whoa now. Bulls don’t think that way, do they?’ Dan took a sip of coffee and swallowed hard. ‘The secretary even has her own mug. If she has a mug, you should have a mug.’
Pulpy noticed the single crease down the front of each of Dan’s pant legs, how crisp that was. He looked down at his own pleats. Not so crisp.
‘I’m bringing in my wife, Beatrice, to keep an eye on that secretary. See how she does things. I want you to meet her, my wife. She’ll be there this afternoon.’
‘She sounds nice.’
‘Oh, she’s nice all right.’ Dan nodded at Pulpy’s doughnuts. ‘Those for the thing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Nice. You married?’
‘Yes.’
‘You bringing her?’
Pulpy swirled his black coffee. ‘She’s not feeling well.’
‘That’s too bad.’ Dan took a slow sip from his mug. ‘I’ll see you back at the office.’ He nodded at the coffee fixings on his way out the door. ‘Now get in there!’
‘So I have to tell you that, oh boy yes, this has certainly been a really good experience for me, being in this place with all of you.’ Al smiled at Pulpy and his fellow employees from the podium at the far end of the boardroom.
A few paces to Al’s right, Dan smoothed the arms of his suit.
Pulpy was standing at the back, near the doors and the food table. His box of doughnuts had been placed next to the vast expanse of ‘Happy Retirement Al!’ cake and a large bowl containing bottles of water and juice.
‘But heck, that doesn’t mean I should have to work here, does it? Ha!’
Everyone in the room laughed, except for Dan. Then he gave a belated ‘Ho-ho!’ that reverberated after the other laughs had died away.
‘The way I see it, everyone’s too focused on business and spending these days,’ said Al. ‘And all these people are watching this reality TV, but I’m at the point where I’m ready for my own reality, you know?’ He blinked at the assembled workers.
Someone near the back shouted, ‘We love you, Al!’
‘Well.’ Al’s smile widened. ‘I’m going to miss all of you, very much.’
There were a few scattered ‘Awws,’ and then Al had to raise his voice as the room burst into applause. ‘But business and spending are still the reality at this office, and now with Dan here at the helm there’s no telling how far you’ll go!’
‘We’re going to pick up where you left off, Al, that’s what we’re going to do!’ Dan stepped over and put an arm around Al’s shoulders, and the room fell silent. ‘Hello, everyone, I’m Dan. And let me be the first to reassure you all that although I may be new in town, I am certainly not new as far as knowing what my responsibilities are, and where they lie.’
‘Psst, Pulpy, over here.’
Pulpy turned his head, and Roy from Customer Service handed him a piece of cake on a small paper plate. Pulpy mouthed ‘Thank you’ and took it before he realized that the usual time for cake cutting and distributing was after the speeches, and that Roy probably wasn’t supposed to be doing this now.
‘I also like to help,’ said Dan. ‘I did a lot of helping at my previous job, and as a result I made some really good friends there and we still communicate. Workplace camaraderie is key. It’s key to everything.’
Pulpy’s piece of cake appeared to be chocolate with some type of nuts in it. He’d gotten the exclamation mark on his frosting.
Roy was handing out forks now. Pulpy debated accepting his.
‘I used to work in a building that had mirrored glass. Mirrored glass, and a lot of floors. And windows everywhere.’ Dan was alone at the podium now – Al had moved away.
‘Pulpy?’ said Roy.
‘Oh,’ Pulpy whispered. ‘Thanks.’ He took the fork.
‘I would look out those windows and think, “There’s a whole world out there.” And then I’d think, “Hey, there’s a whole world in here.” And that is what we’re all about.’
All around him, Pulpy’s co-workers were eating. He speared a hunk of cake and brought it to his lips.
‘Just a side note – I’m sure you’ve all seen the refreshments on the back table,’ said Dan, and Pulpy raised a hand to cover his bulging cheeks. ‘There will be cake, and drinks, and doughnuts, after we’re done up here. But first I’d like to say a little something about teamwork and mutual respect.’
Pulpy ducked behind the crowd to finish chewing.
Dan’s speech went on for another half-hour, and when it was over Pulpy headed for the men’s room. On his way there he passed the receptionist at her desk, stapling.
‘Why aren’t you in the boardroom?’ he asked her. ‘There’s cake.’
‘Hold on,’ she said. ‘I’m collating here.’
He waited while she stapled two sets of papers together, and then she looked up at him. ‘I wasn’t invited. That was my first introduction to the new boss. “Hi, I’m Dan, your new supervisor. Oh, and by the way, we need you to cover the desk during the retirement function.” Yeah, thanks. Plus I’m supposed to know when they’re doing a cake, because I always pick them out. What kind is it? Is there any filling?’
‘It’s a chocolate one,’ he said. ‘I think it has hazelnuts in it.’
‘Nuts aren’t a filling.’
‘Well, they’re inside somewhere. I heard.’
‘A filling is like cream. Or jelly. Is there jelly?’
Pulpy shook his head. ‘No one said anything about jelly.’
The receptionist frowned. ‘I’m supposed to know when they do a cake.’
‘I’m sure it was some kind of oversight.’
‘Yeah.’ The receptionist resumed her stapling. ‘I’m sure it was.’
Pulpy nodded