If the circumstances of the day get any more dismal, Bob will go to the rooftop of his apartment building and scream at the top of his lungs “I HATE APRIL FOOLS!”. He tapped his foot, patiently waiting for the elevator to arrive. Fridays are always great, but not this time. No, this wretched day just has to keep happening every year.
The elevator dinged. No one was there. He looked at himself in the mirror.
“Look he’s covered in whipped cream!” someone said.
He checked his hands. Lo and behold, white frothy substance stuck in-between his fingers. In a feverish pace he tried to shook it off. The floor was covered in whipped cream.
“Oh God no!” Bob said.
The elevator dinged. He stepped out. A wall of flesh blocked his way.
“Woah, easy there Bob, are you okay? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“What?” Bob looked at his face, it was Terry, the security guard for the building. “Sorry, just in a rush I’m almost late to the office.” He looked at his hands, no whipped cream in sight.
“You want some?” Terry asked, handing out an opened pack of Oreos.
A burst of mint flooded his mouth. Toothpaste. This time he knew better. He wasn’t going to be gullible. In an instant, resolve filled his bloodstream. “No, thank you Terry. Best be on my way.” Bob replied.
At the bus stop Bob tapped his foot, the bus should be here in a few minutes. He scanned his surroundings. Nothing seems to be suspicious or anything that would raise alarm. Bob continued tapping his foot.
He stepped into the bus, smiling at the bus driver along the way. There was an empty row. As he sat down in full weight on the bus seat, a farting sound emanated throughout the bus.
Blood rushed to his cheeks. Every bus passenger started laughing, including the bus driver. He stood up and saw a whoopee cushion where he sat. All he wanted to do now was to jump out of the window and walk to his office. The walk of shame was a better idea than the bus ride of shame.
“Excuse me, are you looking for something?” A woman said as she walked towards the other bus seat and sat down.
“Oh, nothing, I just thought I dropped something.” Bob said, he sat down and no sound came.
His forehead touched the glass. Stress was already creeping in his system and he wasn’t even in his office yet. He tapped his foot.
The bus stopped right in front of Bob’s office. He went down and treaded for the entrance. The clock on the wall indicated it was 8:45. Bob eased up a bit, knowing he had fifteen minutes to spare.
Turning left to the elevators, Bob saw Tom, his office best friend. He wore a blue suit on top of his crisp white shirt. Tom saw him walking.
“Hey Bob, good morning.” Tom smiled.
“Hey Tom, how’s it going?” Bob said.
“Not much, but yesterday though my wife decided to put a fake tarantula in our shower in hopes of giving me a scare. Because, you know, I hate spiders. So yeah, I screamed like a teenage girl. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my voice go up that high before.”
“Yesterday? But isn’t – “
The elevator dinged. A wave of people came out. Bob and Tom waited for everyone to exit so they can come in.
“Come on.” Tom said. He placed his right hand on Bob’s back assisting him as they entered the elevator.
Bob tapped his foot. The numbers on the small screen kept him preoccupied as they made their ascent. 14… 15… 16…, this elevator had no mirrors on it.
As the elevator doors opened, Tom came out first. Bob was trailing behind him. They entered their office. Rows upon rows of cubicles lined up in succession.
Bob heard giggling while he walked past by these workspace partitions. Him and Tom had their own offices. Something that he was incredibly grateful for, he earned it through perseverance and determination. Bob sat down at his comfy plush black leather office chair.
His secretary, Gina, peaked through the door. “The boss wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t know, she didn’t say anything, but she said it was urgent.” Gina said before she closed the door.
With great effort, Bob pushed himself out of his seat and made his way to the boss’ office a few doors down the hall. Whispers and hush chuckles made their way to Bob’s ears. He was starting to get nervous. But with his resolve that he found this morning, he trekked on. Until he was out of reach of the murmurs and giggles, he dropped his shoulders.
The glass door symbolizes that transparency is one of our utmost priorities. Or whatever Melissa said when she made him an unexpected tour of the office. There she was, sitting in front of a large mahogany table with a great overview of the city. Bob knocked three times on the glass.
“Hey boss, what’s up?” Bob said as he opened the door.
“Bob, I need those contracts that I assigned to you last week.” Melissa said.
“Aren’t those due tomorrow?”
“No Bob, they’re due today.”
Bob gave Melissa a clueless stare. Not that he hasn’t done any work, he was almost done, all he needed to do was proofread it then submit it tomorrow. Procrastination wasn’t Bob’s thing.
“Well, they’re not done.” Bob replied.
“Well, finish them today because I have meeting with the client this afternoon. Didn’t I give clear instructions to finish the contracts today?” Melissa said.
“Yeah, the deadline is the 2nd of April and that’s tomorrow.” Bob countered.
“No Bob, today is April 2.” Melissa spoke.
No way. Bob thought that he was an idiot. If only the carpet floor also worked as a sinkhole so that he could be swallowed up never to be seen again.
“I’m sorry,” Bob closed his eyes. “I’ll get it done today, I’m really sorry. Do you mind if I ask you a weird question? Is there something stuck to my back?”
“There’s nothing there.” Melissa said.
“Okay, thank you, I’ll finish the contracts before lunch.” Bob smiled at her. He turned around and exited her office. Red faced and in disarray, Bob thought that if the circumstances of the day get any more dismal, he will go to the rooftop of the office building and scream at the top of his lungs “I HATE APRIL FOOLS!”