Crazy Love

Chapter 18

Zuri

I hate my life.

I hate everything so bad right now. I hate this job. I hate all my co-workers. I hate that I'm wearing this hideous dress from the back of my closet that I had forgotten about because nothing else fits. I hate that my parents cancelled Sunday dinner on us. I hate Lynn for eating all my mango chips.

I just hate everything!

In the back of my mind, I know this hatred is not rational, but I don't care. Everything sucks. Life is a bottomless pit of dreary darkness from which we can never escape.

"Coleman! Is that report done?"

"Did you check your emails?" I sent it half an hour ago.

"Listen here, don't think you can talk to me anyway you want just cause you got a little bun in the oven. I am still your boss. Don't get ghetto with me?"

I have had it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He glares back at me, but I do not back down.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I reiterate much slower in case this fool didn't hear me.
"Tell me boss, what is 'getting ghetto'? More importantly, why am I the only one you ever say that to?"
I can feel the eyes of the entire office on us, but today, I refuse to care.

"Because you are the only one who acts like this. Have some class."

"Class? Like when Ophelia burst out crying when you told her her report was late? Or when Jackson and Gunther had an after hours fight in this very office? Surely you could not mean the affair you and Price are having which is why you make Dani do all her work. Tell me, where is the class in all of that?" You picked the wrong one.

"That does it, Zuri, report to HR."

"Gladly. And while I'm there, I might as well tell them of all the times you have been an asswipe to not only me, but every woman here you haven't slept with." I get up and pick up my handbag.

"Those are some very serious allegations. But without any evidence to back up your claims, you are the on liable to get fired."

"Then maybe this isn't the kind of office I want to work in." Do these people think they can just do whatever they want and we'll just take it?

I march to the elevator without sparing so much as a backward glance to my so called boss. He can go fuck himself. Repeatedly and wrongly.

My anger simmers as I take the elevator ride to the tenth floor where our HR office is. I have only been here a handful of times since I got hired. Mainly picking up some files, but ocassionally as a witness. This will be my first time being admonished and my first time filing a case of my own.

Not that it will help. All the upper management, including the HR Manager are golf buddies. There is no way they will take anything I say seriously. It is like we are still in the nineteen fifties.

I don't even really need this job anymore. I'm here because I want to put all those years of schooling to use. This job was part of the plan, but our app wasn't. Jellybean wasn't.

Maybe I just throw the whole plan out now. Maybe I'll hate everything a little less if I do.
But I'm not going to quit. If they want me gone, they will have to fire me. I want that severence cheque.

Sadly, I am not fired, but I do have a strike on my record. My once pristine record that I took so mich pride in. I hate them for punishing me for today when it wasn't my fault.

I especially hate that I am ranting to Lynn but she doesn't look as outraged as I am.

"You're right. Your office is a bunch of dicks, but I have a theory."