Well, that didn't take long. Within five minutes of take-off, my remote-control helicopter was taken from me. No, it wasn't stolen. Like a child being punished, my boss came into my cubicle, physically took the remote out of my hand, and told me that, "I can get it back at the end of the day." The last time I was told that was when my high school biology teacher confiscated my cell phone. It feels good to know that I haven't lost a step!
It started off innocently. For the first minute, I kept the helicopter inside my cubicle - making sure to only fly it within my walls. At one point I lost control of the helicopter and it flew into my cubicle wall, knocking down a calendar. This is when I discovered the potential that this "machine," created for children between the ages of 8 and 14, had. When my calendar hit the floor, I had one thought that immediately popped into my head: What else can I destroy with this helicopter?
With little regard for the helicopter's life-span, I started to fly the object into my co-worker's cubicles. Without fail, I was able to angle the helicopter to knock something over. It started off harmless, but when you need to top yourself, harmless turns to harmful rather quickly. Knocking over office supplies turned into knocking over organized stacked pieces of paper with eventually me performing "flybys." I would fly the helicopter within inches of my co-workers, both startling and annoying them.
I wanted to go bigger, so when I caught a glimpse of a co-worker's coffee cup, I knew I had to do it. With the helicopter hovering in the "office sky," I took aim at the Styrofoam cup. Readying my thumbs, I locked in on the target. Before giving myself clearance to proceed, I said a little prayer. All was clear and it was go time.
Pressing my thumbs forward, the helicopter was at top speed. Like a guided-missile, the aerial attack was seconds away from causing mayhem. But like King Kong swatting at an airplane, my Boss knocked down the helicopter in mid-air.
"Hey! That's not fair!" I screamed right away at my boss. I watched as my boss picked up the helicopter off the floor. Watching the scene unfold, I kept my head above my cubicle walls until I saw my boss darting towards my cubicle. Oh shit. Play it cool. My boss didn't want an explanation and didn't even waste his time with a scolding session. Like I said, he stormed into my cubicle, ripped the remote control out of my hands and left right after he said "I can get it back at the end of the day."
When I lost the privilege to play with the helicopter, I got a chance to hop back onto my original mission: doing absolutely nothing. It always amazes me when I get away with half the shit that I do around here. But today, I took it to a whole 'nother level! What made it more satisfying was that during my "brain-storming session" (that's what I told my boss when he walked in on me staring into space, doing nothing productive) my boss handed me a bonus check! As I opened the envelope, a part of me suspected that the piece of paper inside would not be a check, but rather a note that read: "Hahaha. Did you honestly think you were going to be receiving a bonus? To receive a bonus, you would have to achieve some level of success other than the bare minimum. You're less valuable to this company than the water cooler. At least the water cooler provides some sort of benefit to this place."
Hours after I opened the envelope, it could have been minutes - you tend to lose track of time when you dedicate yourself to doing nothing - my boss reappeared in my cubicle to have a conversation "It's the end of the year, and I just want to have a quick chat with you." Another pessimistic thought crept into my mind - was that bonus check really a severance package? Great. I'm getting fired.
"Yeah, sure. What's up?" My nerves got the best of me, as I had a little bit of a quiver in my voice.
"We're really proud of the work you've been doing for us." Is he fucking with me? Yeah, he has got to be fucking with me. "We wanted to get a sense of how you're feeling about your future with this company. Are you ready to make a long-term commitment?"
"Are you asking me to go steady?"
"Cut the shit."
I got "serious" again. "Yeah, I love it here." Translation: I love how I am able to get away with doing jack-shit and being able to receive a steady paycheck doing so.
"That's wonderful. I don't want this chat to go on too long - I'd rather keep it informal for now and get into more of the meat and potatoes after the break. So last thing before I leave, I wanted to get your opinion on something."
"Yes, that shirt makes it look like you have at least a c-cup. B-cup at a minimum."
Ignoring me, he continued. "We want to know, what do you think would help improve our company?"
It was like he asked me to solve an unsolvable calculus question. First, I didn't have an answer. Second, I couldn't care less about the company improving. As long as I'm getting paid, I'm happy. My happiness plateaus when it requires me to put in extra effort to receive the same amount of money. If he had the slightest clue of my true feelings, he probably wouldn't have wasted my time with the question. He didn't, which is why he sat waiting for a response.
Stammering my way through my improvised thought, I said, "I think if you offer some sort of incentive program, that might increase productivity, which would help out the company." I'm really biting the hand that feeds me.
My boss pondered my idea for several seconds. "That's brilliant! I'm going to take it back to the executives and hear what they have to say."
I immediately lost interest in what he said, which I'm sure he caught on by me shrugging my shoulders and responding with a "Whatever, dude."
"What else is on your mind?" My boss thought he might be able to catch lighting in a bottle by having me come up with another "innovative" idea that he could bring back to the executives.
"What is on my mind?" I mimicked back, which he confirmed that was what he asked me. I followed up with a few "umms" and "uhhs."
"Take your time." He was really encouraging. He stressed that there is no bad ideas and urged me to say whatever I was thinking. Feeling comfortable, I did say what was on my mind. Completely relaxed, I opened my mouth. The anticipation of a possible "gem" excited my boss. As I opened my mouth, he matched. He waited for me to speak with a wide open mouth and anxious eyes. I finally said what was on my mind:
"Can I get my helicopter back? I promise I'll be good!"
A sigh and a forced "Have a Merry Christmas" took me into Christmas break
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