SMARTY PANTS

A tremendously loud silence rang in my ears. ‘What? I didn’t hear you. What did you say, Mr. Findley?’ ‘I said, Schmuck, Stupido. You’re fired!’

He offered no explanation nor did I ask for one. That he had seen me pat his wife’s ass, and a nice round apple ass it is, as it passed my desk, was his last straw. My meager desk belongings quickly filled a cardboard box which made it simple for me to exit my ex-employer’s building. Had he known my gentle tush pat had been invited several times at the Bide Away Motel, I was sure I wouldn’t even have had time to clear out. I would have been dead meat.

Christmas was only two weeks away. Not only would I not get my bonus, I had little back-up funds in the bank. Stupido I was and continued that treacherous path. I returned to Mr. Findley’s office to tell him he owes me a full week’s pay and two weeks’ vacation money. The startled look on his face when I walked into his office without bothering to knock was worth my effort. He almost exploded, grabbed my around my shoulders, lifted me off my feet and tossed me in the hall. I yelled at him, went so far as to shake my finger in his face and blurt out, ‘Now you are in trouble. I am going to sue you for assaulting me. You will hear from my attorney shortly.’ ‘What have I got to lose?’ I thought. ‘Not much,’ self replied.

 

As I left parking space #110 in Findley’s employee parking lot visions of taking my case all the way to the Supreme court jumped thru my mind like Rice Krispies when cold milk is poured on them. The photo of my parents, sister Mary Lou and brother Randy I stuck on top of my bureau. The few magazines in the carton were oldies I saved to re-read in the men’s room again and they got no further than the re-cycle bin in the basement. The few pens and note pads may come in handy what with the expected attorney calls coming in. Unintentionally I had picked up several customers’ files. If old man Findley calls, apologizes to me, I will be glad to return them.

 

My friend, Bucky, recommended attorney Harvey Hallerman to me. He couldn’t discuss anything with me with Christmas so near and he was going on a Caribbean vacation for two weeks. Another name was given to me, Jim Lucas. Lucas and I met the next day in his less than pompous office. Two full yellow lined legal pages he filled with my story. He thinks I have a good case. At least he thought so, until I careless mentioned the rendezvous I had had with Mrs. Findley.

 

‘Do you have any idea of what you are opening up, Mr. Waldman? You may be causing a divorce in which you would be cited as the interloper. Without a contract that you were to get a yearly bonus, without anything in writing about vacation pay if you are fired, you won’t get a penny. You have open only the fact that Mr. Findley  put his hands on you which might give him a chance to do public service for a few weeks. My suggestion is you mail his customers’ files back with an apology. Then, start looking for a new position.’ My hopes of being famous, perhaps appearing on the Today Show flew into outer space with just a wink of my eye. Mr. Waldman handed me a bill for his advice $150.00. I asked, ‘Can I put this on my Visa card? ‘ ’Sorry, Mr. Waldman, no charges. Cash or a check.’

 

I wrote a check, handed it to him and hurried home to borrow $150 from my Dad so my checking account wouldn’t get a hefty overage fee. Falling asleep at last, I realized Mr. Findley was smarter than I was.

 

Schmuck and Stupido fit me perfectly. New Year’s Resolution one- no hanky panky with a boss’s wife. Number two, buckle up, get smarter, find a better job and on Jan. 3 go to the Unemployment Service.