Walk of Shame

"Taking into consideration the events of yesterday, we have no choice but to let you go."

Can't say I'm surprised to hear the words coming out of her mouth. A little surprised at the timing. You think they could call or email instead of making me come in on a Friday. Everybody likes a three-day weekend.

"We appreciate everything you've done for the company—"

LIES.

"—and we're going to be sorry to see you go."

AND THEY KEEP ON COMING.

"But we feel that after the photoshopping of Mr. Pryweller there's no longer a place for you here."

"Why is that?"

Georgia stared at me for a very long time, that HR witch. "Tony, all the desktop wallpapers changed to that... image."

"Which image?" I wanted her to say it.

"You know very well to which image I am referring." I had him giving it up the backside of that bastard Yurte in accounting. The two of them are so chummy it's disgusting. I imagine they're letting me go for not only the photoshopping but the gay-porn-site-visiting on company time and equipment. But who's to say? Maybe they just don't like me. Takes thirty-eight to know one.

Yeah, I could just leave. I could have put in my letter of resignation. But where's the fun in that? There's no Beast with a Yurte-Pryweller Back in that scenario. I heard the laughs. I saw the pointing. I did something that people enjoyed, something they wanted to do, that they wanted to see, that they were thinking. Hell, Georgia probably even thought it was pretty spot on. But there's a trail with these kinds of things, one I don't know how to cover up.

So I pack up my desk, my little cubicle. Yurte comes over to me, not steaming, but not exactly chilled either. "You have a problem with the way I live my life?"

"Yurte, what in the hell are you talking about?" And that's when he socks me. Right in the mouth.

"Homophobic asshole." Then he spits, actually spits on me. Jesus, Yurte. It was just my curtain call. Honestly, I didn't even know.

I walk out, cardboard box with papers and pens and whatever other supplies I've stolen. And it's like so many girls do early in the morning with their high heels and matted hair and day-old makeup. Everyone's watching me. No laughs, no points, just Well it's about time's. I'm trying to remember what Pryweller said to me that set me off.