Pointless

That’s it. This. This is the final straw. Getting up from my desk, I storm over to Sandburns office and throw my report in his face. I said, “So this is how you treat your employees, huh?” Unsurprisingly, he looked at me with shock. But I continued, “Do you think it’s funny to harass the people in this workplace?” He opened his mouth, presumably to stop me, but I wouldn’t let him. I slammed my palms down on the hard oak desk, knocking over a couple of pens and cheap knick-knacks. Glaring, I said, “I don’t care that you're the boss, I don’t care that you get paid the most, I don’t care that your office has walls.” I took a breath, “You have no right to dehumanize your employees. These people work their asses off to keep this company afloat,”  I said firmly. Crossing my arms I thought, I did it. I’ve been wanting to put ol’ Sandburns in his place ever since I got here, and I did it. Unfortunately, however, superiors don’t like it when their subordinates find the balls to stand up for themselves. So now, I can either quit or get fired. I’ll take the latter. After all, isn’t it everyone's dream to tell off their terrible boss then storm away forever? It certainly makes for an exciting story. I watch as Sandburns takes a breath, still trying to comprehend what just happened. Under his breath, I hear him meekly utter my name. “Sara,” he starts. Nope. I cut him off. I know I’m close to being borderline rude, but at this point, my adrenaline is kicked up into overdrive. So, putting on a fake, fancy, and not-quite-British accent that I know is bad, I say, “Mr. Sandburns, I must regretfully inform you that I am quitting. Your management is atrocious, but worst of all is definitely your coffee breath. Good riddance sir.” I smile confidently, being sure to show off my pearly whites, like a predator intimidating its prey. Last but not least, I turn around, flipping my long hair in his face and storming off like all of my coworkers stand motionless, watching me leave. Oh, but this can’t be over yet! I have to say something more, a final huzza to send myself off. Like one of those inspiring speeches that give everyone one last incredible memory of me before I’m out the door forever, and ever, and ever…

“Sara!” Stunned out of my imagination for the second time today, I jumped up from my desk. Like a row of dominoes falling over, my startled motion makes me accidentally roll my chair into Linda, as my elbow knocks over my mug, and the last bit of tea I was saving goes flying. I try to catch the mug but as expected, my long, flailing arms can’t grab it. Jacob, the person responsible for snapping me out of my own head, somehow, calmly catches the cup mid-air. A seemingly effortless yet successful attempt keeps my favorite mug from falling to the ground and breaking. The green tea I had been sipping didn’t make it, the cheap, thin carpeting on the floor was already soaking it up. But at least my special mug is safe. I really should get Jacob a little something. It's the fifth time this month he's saved the mug from a shattered demise. He sets my mug on the desk and says, “I know you know that Sandburns is going to fire you if he catches you like this.” He looks down at the damp carpet as he states the obvious. I’ve already gotten a warning. One more, and I’m gone. “I don’t care,” I say. “I don’t even like it here.” I hold up the evaluation given to me by our secretary and written by Sandburns himself for Jacob to see. “He’s a disrespectful jerk,” I state. Jacob takes the papers and does a quick scan. “...unfocused, unlively employee…, needs to be cheerier for the clients and a smile wouldn’t hurt…” I see Jacob’s eyebrows raise as he reads further. “ ...not willing to listen to the suggestions I give…” Jacob reads. He looks up slowly. “This…” he says. “How did you get your hands on this?” he asks. I nod towards the front desk and whisper, “Myra.” He looks over at Myra and then back down at the paper in his hands. “What exactly are the suggestions he’s given you?” Jacob asks. I say, “Well mostly it’s a bunch of chauvinistic crap that I don’t care to listen to.” But Jacob presses, “Like?” I sigh and say, “You know, smile more, you could use some more makeup, you’re never gonna get a husband dressed like that. The typical alpha male phrases.” Jacobs’s eyes widen. Apparently, he wasn’t aware of Sandburn’s propositions for the women in this workspace. “I’m gonna do it,” I say. “Do what?” Jacob says quizzically. “I’m gonna tell him off. This…” I grab the evaluation and hold it up, “This the last straw. I need to storm into his office and give him a piece of my mind.” Jacob snickers. “Okay do it,” he says. I say, “Well not right now, I’m not ready now.” Sure I did a good job in my imagination but that’s just it… It’s my imagination. Not real. It could never be. “No time like the present Sara,” he says then continues, “You don’t want to pass up this opportunity do you?” He’s right. I hate to admit it but he’s right. In the future when I’m married with three kids and have a german shepherd named Charlie, I don’t want to look back and regret not putting my misogynistic boss in his place. I need a good story for my kids. Every night before bed they’ll ask, “Mommy, mommy, tell us how you saved everyone at work from the evil boss!” And I’ll tell them, and they’ll laugh and they’ll be proud. And Charlie will hop up and lick my face, a thank you for being so brave, and… 

“Sara! Seriously? Again?” Wow, this is getting worse. I can’t even focus while someone tries to have a conversation with me. I stand up, ready to put an end to this. “Jacob you’re right,” I say. He shifts uncomfortably, then asks, “I am?” “Yes,” say. “Albert S. Sandburns will not treat me, nor anyone else wrong, ever again.” Then Jacob says, “You’re gonna have to give one hell of a speech to pull that off, but good for you.” I nod triumphantly and head towards the one office with walls. Except, now that I’m in front of his door a huge wave of panic crashes around in the pit of my stomach and I’m scared. But I’m already here. I can’t walk back with my tail between my legs. I can feel Jacob watching me, he’s waiting for me to make my stand. With a deep breath, I lightly rap on the door and wait for a response. Mr. Sandburns’ deep voice booms, “Come in.” So many things are racing through my brain, what I’m going to say, what I’m going to… Wait. What am I gonna say? My hand has already turned the handle and I’m walking in. No, wait, what am I going to say, I don’t remember what I was going to say. “What do you want?” he barks. “I, uh…” stammering, I try to find the words that only a second ago were so clearly displayed in my brain. He’s starring now and I can feel his impatience growing. Taking yet another deep breath I say, “You, should be, umm,” he’s waiting. I’m waiting. “I don’t like how you...” Somehow his stare is penetrating my soul and I feel like he can see my innermost thoughts. “You don’t like how I what?” he says. I think I’ve made a huge mistake. Looking for an exit, any exit, I try my last hope at getting out of this. “I don’t like your blue tie with that shirt. I think a red tie would suit your outfit much better.” In my head, I facepalm at how idiotic that sounded. But he starts chuckling. It starts low but suddenly it’s a burst of full-blown laughter. I start giggling to match his, but it’s awkward. And in every way, it sounds forced but he might be too distracted to tell. Once he calms down and takes in a breath, he pats his stomach and says, “You think?” He looks down at his shirt and holds part of the baby blue tie in his hand. “Maybe you’re right,” he states. “A bright red would make me stand out, make me look fierce. This blue, it’s too sad.” I nod quickly, thankful he bought it, and turn to leave. “Hold on now,” he calls. I turn to face him again but I really just want to leave. I can barely handle myself right now. “Just so y’know,” he clears his throat, “I'm in the process of writing your evaluation, and I think you’ll be very pleased.” He emphasizes ‘very’ which for a moment, makes my skin crawl. “Thank you, sir,” I say, immediately followed by a big smile, and I beeline for the door. “Shut it on your way out!” he yells, and I do as I’m told. Walking hastily back towards my desk I feel the most hopeless I could ever possibly feel. I’m a walking failure, an inadequate turkey, a… “Chickened out huh?” Jacob says with a grin. I look at him for a second, then grab my jacket and rush to the elevator. In the scramble, I once again knock over my mug, but this time it falls to the floor, and no one saves it. Upon impact, it shatters, and the purple pieces of ceramic fly in all directions. I don’t care, I’m already repeatedly pressing the down button as if it’ll make the elevator get up here any faster. As the doors open, I step inside and bury my face in my coat. Before my coat covers my face, I see Jacobs panic as everything unfolds and he’s left, unknowing about what just happened. “Sara!” he calls. I hear him yell my name one more time before the doors close, and I’m taken down to the first floor. My jacket makes a good tissue as I can’t help but cry uncontrollably. I sit down in the corner of the elevator box as it all comes out. As everything crumbles around me, and I feel as though I’m falling, and falling fast. As I collapse, it’s into a mess of excruciating anguish that swallows me whole.