By the time I had finally got to the office, it was already 10:30 AM. Admittedly, it was a bit later than when I usually got in, but since I worked at a startup, most people were still setting in themselves. I grabbed a cup of hot water, steeped some green tea and got to my seat.

Checking my to-do list for the day, I saw that one project still sitting in my queue, which didn’t mean much by itself. It was a monthly recurring task that I have done before so having a memory of completing it was nothing new. It didn’t take too long for me to finish it and sent it off to my manager for final approval.

It was now 12:30 PM, which meant lunchtime for me. In an effort to lose some weight, I have been eating the same salad every day for the past two weeks now. Which has done jack shit for my weight lost. I always order from a restaurant down the block from me because the food would always get here within the hour. One of the perks of working at a startup is lunch money. People might think I am joking when I tell them that but it’s true. Not having to spend money for lunch was one of the few reasons I hadn’t quit.

Lunch came and went, nothing too special happened. I was pleasantly surprised to find a few pieces of extra chicken in my salad today. I guess someone was feeling generous. By now, I was genuinely getting a bit nervous. My meeting with my manager was in a few minutes and would likely give me a clue to all this future memory busy. To calm my nerves, I pulled up some cat videos and mindlessly scrolled through them on my phone. After spending some time watching cats being assholes to humans, I felt pretty good.

There was still another 10 minutes before my meeting with my manager. With nothing else to do, I decided to take another dump. We had co-ed restrooms; mind you, we had full-size doors and each stall was more like a small closest then anything else. We’re a startup not some millennial hipster gender equal rights groupie. The co-ed restroom also meant we typically avoid making eye contact with the opposite sex in the restroom.

As I walked into the restroom, I saw Marry from HR. It was too late to avoid her, she had reflexity looked up when the door open. I gave her a polite nod and quickly went into the only stall left open. (Presumably the one she just came out of) Before I went in I should have taken a deep breathe cause whoever said girls shit don’t smell was clearly anosmic or a mother fucking liar.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

This was the first time I found myself in this situation. I was totally fine smelling my own number two, but other people’s was a whole another story. I couldn’t simply just walk out of the stall since Marry was still washing her hands and that would make things even more awkward. There was only one sensible thing to do which was to hold my breath. I was no Olympic swimmer, but I was confident that I could hold my breath for at least a minute or until Mary had left.

I already had my hands on the door handle when I heard the restroom door open. I was so ready to take my first breath of “fresh” restroom air. Instead of the silence that I was expecting, I heard another voice. It was Jenny, also from HR. From the sound of things, the two of them has engaged in the mysterious “girl talk” that guys have heard some much about. If it were during any other time, I would be curious to find out exactly just what this “girl talk” was all about. But at this moment in time, that was the last thing I wanted to hear.

The closest-like construction of the stall meant that there was little air exchange going on and that the smell hadn’t gotten any better. Seconds started feeling like minutes as I stood there holding my breath. And then finally, the conversation started to fade, but weirdly, my vision also started to narrow and I felt dizzy. The next thing I knew I was on the floor of the stall. I had fucking blackout.

I got up and checked my phone and it was time for my meeting. Giving a longing look to the toilet, I decided I would table this for another time.

Walking into my manager's office, my nerves had hit me again. I was never great at these one-on-one conversations. Before I could make things awkward, my manager had welcomed me and promptly got up to close the door behind me.

“Hey Martin, how are you doing today?”

“Good.”

He was clearly waiting for me to say more, but I honestly didn’t have anything else to say.

“Good, good. I don’t know how to start this and this is also very hard for me to do.”

There was a slight pause and my heart was now pounding in my chest.

“As you might have noticed recently, we hadn’t sent much work to you lately. That’s because there just isn’t much work to go around…”

Shit. I was getting fired. Also, fuck, I am going to be a fucking millionaire!

My face slipped from my previous impassiveness and a smile crack open on my face. From his perspective, he must have thought I was about to go apeshit-crazy on him or something. I noticed he had visibility gotten unconformable and lean slightly back on his chair.

“Because of that, I am sorry to say we are going to have to let you go.”

There was a slight tremble in his voice by the end of his little speech.

Without saying another word, I got up and left his office. I went to my desk to see if there was anything that belonged to me. There wasn’t. I grabbed my bag and left. I sprinted down the stairs to the nearest convenient store.