Tagged: Work (581)

The ad guys sit around coming up with slogans for a new brand of soup. Is this stuff any good? Lee asks. And there is laughter. And tears.

Jones leans on his secretary’s desk and says, I trimmed my fingernails, and she picks up the phone, calls HR and talks of sexual harassment.

The bragging became difficult to ignore. So she stood up and walked over to their table. She showed them her breasts. Now shut up, she said.

The pen goes. He thinks about impossible things. Violent imagery dances in his head. Thoughts of vengeance. He picks up the pen. And resigns

They bark into their respective cellphones, sounding important. And in charge. Then the elevator stops. And they look at each other, hungry.

You’re difficult, his boss says. Your talent doesn’t overcome this fact. So he sulks because he’s good at it. And he misses another deadline