Because I was going to get fired.
It all started when I didn’t have a keycard.
It was my second day at the office, I was still meeting new people and finding my way around, and I went outside the office in a hallway to use the restroom.
When I got back, the big, brown double doors were locked. I rang and the new, temporary secretary opened the door. “Thanks,” I said.
She was a beautiful tall, blonde girl. 23, if I remember. She asked about myself and we talked for a bit. Nothing special. (Or so I thought.)
Over the next few days, we got along well. But it was nothing more than friendly — basic stuff like “where are you from,” “what did you study,” and silly banter. And yet, I never saw anyone else talk with her while she worked there. Plus, I worked in a different room and rarely passed by her.
A few days later, my manager calls me and let’s me know the news: people have reportedly said I was “flirting” with her and that my conduct was inappropriate. “Who told you that?!” was my first thought. The last think I wanted to do was get fired for something as stupid as flirting.
Well, it wasn’t my first thought: it was actually the first thing I said. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. But I didn’t buy it. One, I wasn’t flirting with her — that would be stupid. Two, coworkers flirt with my manager all the time! And shamelessly too. Gross.
“Obviously, whoever saw you talk with the secretary saw what they wanted to see,” a friend later suggested. “Or maybe they’re jealous of her.”
The next day I came to work, the secretary greeted me and started chatting. But I stayed quiet.
Then, I learned they wanted to let me go. (Fuck… over this?) Fine. I made it easier for them: I submitted by two-weeks notice that Friday. But I hadn’t even worked there for two weeks yet, so they let me leave that morning.
That lunch, I had In-N-Out. And as I talked to the cute, blonde girl next to me, she noticed how happy I seemed after I quit. Good observation.
In hindsight, if I was going to invoke the Spanish Inquisition, I should’ve asked out that secretary and earned the trouble.
But she lived in San Bernardino, and that’s far.
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