Big Sack

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Scout

Two months later...

Do you know how long it takes for the student loan vultures to find you after you get fired, miss a payment, and then change your phone number?

Fourteen days.

I know, crazy right? If they'd been the ones looking for Bin Laden it wouldn't have taken a damn decade to find him.

Pulling up in front of the tiny house in Burton Oaks, I roll my eyes at my brother standing on the porch with a sign proclaiming, "Go back, Scout!" His smug grin chiding me and chest bouncing as he laughs at me before I even get out of the car that's hauling my meager possessions in the tiny trailer I rented.

That severance check? It wasn't all that generous and after selling all of my furniture, I gave up the idea of being a "fierce independent woman who don't need no man" and tucked my tail between my legs as I headed back home to mom.

Pro tip when getting fired? Don't send an email like I did and expect to have any sort of hope of a career left.

The only positive thing to come out of the shit show my life has become was finding out that I was not the only one that he had been dicking around with in the office. One of the girls in the mailroom came forward as well as two interns and an account executive. Sheila who was the office gossip and nearly sixty said he touched her ass once, though I'm pretty sure that one was a fabrication since she still holds firm to the fact that Ryan Gosling gave her a shot of Horsey Sauce in the bathroom of an Arby's one night when she was out in LA with friends.

At any rate, the reason why I know the sordid details is the same reason you're thinking, hey... why does this all sound so familiar?

What started out as the actions of a disgruntled former employee, spun into the very story you and all your friends shared on Facebook. Yes. That was me. I'm the girl that stood up for all other marginalized women who have dealt with the patriarchy of bosses who can't keep it in their pants and throw us away as if we're a dime a dozen. So many women liked the story and passed it along that my name became instantly recognizable and remembered. The picture of his dick with a tiny pickle emoticon covering it and the weird cringeworthy face he made as he came was shared on every social media platform you could think of. People gave words of support and comfort, but unfortunately with great support comes no job offers.

In fact I swear I got rejection letters and emails before I even sent in resumes. Needless to say, it would be a hot minute before people forgot about what happened.

It would also be quite a bit of time before Clive forgot as well. His girlfriend who I later found out was his fiancee kicked his ass to the curb immediately and the company took a massive hit in the market. They've done the best they can with damage control, dragging him to events where he pitched in for various women's rights groups in order to give off the air of him not being a complete scumbag. I'm sure he's still one and I'll never get the justice of him admitting there were no grounds for termination.

I did get approached by a few hungry lawyers that had big ideas about a lawsuit, but I refused knowing that I had no way to prove anything other than him having an ugly orgasm face and a below average penis. There aren't any laws against that apparently, since my acceptance of said small dick and ugly come face was consensual and not coerced. It's just frowned upon so he gets to keep his job and I get to move in with my mother and her boyfriend.

Yeah, that sounds fair.

"It's about time. We've been waiting all damn day." Disko says with an eye roll before grabbing my wrist and bringing me into a strong hug.