“HANG IN THERE!” the typical office decor cat poster over Jason’s cubicle read. Jason sighed, knowing that this was going to be a long day at the office. His parents had always told him that he could do anything with his life as long as he applied himself at his work.
Sure, Jason mused, as long as you have wealthy parents who can get you into anywhere you want to go through their connections. It’s easy to get a high paying job at daddy’s firm right out of college when daddy is a high profile lawyer who makes millions of dollars getting his billionare clients out of tickets and DUIs. But for us lowly peons, we have to work 9-5 jobs making just enough money to get us through the week to pay our rent on our overpriced housing that we can’t even afford because things have gotten so expensive lately.
Once again, Jason wished that he had gotten a degree in medicine or law or anything other than the generic business degree he had been recommended by his school counselor.
“It’s a great general all around degree,” his counselor had enthused. “You’ll be very well rounded and have a great resume to bring to the table for future employers. If you throw in a few additional classes in management or psychology, you’ll have a great resume to share.”
Jason had done just that, getting a degree in business and had even minored in psychology because it would “get him ahead” of everyone else. Little did he know that the same advice had been given to every single one of his peers in college and there had been several hundred people who graduated with him with the exact same degree and similar qualifications. Each one of them looking to distinguish themselves above the rest.
And it wasn’t that Jason hadn’t been good at school. In fact Jason was in the top 10% of his graduating class at Bligson State University. But as his roommates were often fond of telling him, “C’s and D’s get degrees,” and each one of them had managed to find a better job than he had. Jason had applied at several different businesses, but somehow even his stoner roommate Duke had managed to find a better paying job than Jason had.
At five foot ten inches, Jason was of average height, dark hair and had, at least until college, a slight, well-toned build. Four and a half years of drinking and partying had filled out Jason until he could be generously called “hefty.” His good looks that everyone had raved about in high school had been tempered by his collegiate escapades. Jason now had a broken nose that he had received from a drunken brawl and over the last few years, Jason had been experimenting with a longer haircut and a beard. Most of his friends told him to trim his beard and cut his hair to fit in with the office culture, but Jason was finding that he cared less and less about what others thought about him.
“If you enjoy your job, you’ll never work a day in your life,” he had been told over and over again by his teachers and mentors all throughout high school.
Yeah, that was a lie, Jason thought to himself sarcastically. I’ve enjoyed my job once or twice but it still was a pain in my ass to call up these people and try to get them to come to work at this company.
Jason glared at the pseudo-motivational poster of the cat that hung above his desk. How could he “hang in there” when there was nothing to hang on to? He spent most of his days at his insurance company doing cold calls attempting to convince people to come find a job in insurance.
It wasn’t that he was bad at his job; Jason was a people person and could spend hours talking to strangers at a party. It was that Jason absolutely hated cold calling as it never allowed him to meet with the prospective “insurance agents” face to face. This was also compounded by the fact that Jason hated where he worked and felt that life insurance was a scam. His boss had explained to him that it was a benefit for someone to get life insurance and have their family taken care of once they passed away.
At least that was the idea that was proposed to prospective agents: they were bringers of good in the world and would help bring some sort of support at the end of prospective buyers’ lives. Only, once the agents were on, they found that what they were selling was an insurance that was only valid for five to ten years at a time and would lose its value after the term was finished. Most of the people whom Jason had recruited usually lasted two to three months before they realized the scheme that they were selling.
Unless you were a true believer, or a horribly awful person, like Jason’s boss. Jason was convinced that his boss had no moral compass and would sell sand to a camel if he was able to. Hell, his boss Tom was the reason that Jason had gotten a job at the company in the first place. Tom had sold the idea that Jason would be bringing on new agents who could make “up to six digits a year.”
He found out shortly that was a lie as well. Most people only made barely enough to get by and even the “rockstars” of the industry were people who had been at the company since the early days. That was when Jason’s productivity had plummeted to barely above the minimum of what was needed for him to keep a job.
If I can make it look like I’m helping InsuraCorp recruit new agents, but barely make the minimum recruitment levels per month, I’m saving people’s lives from this horrid job, Jason reasoned. In fact, one might consider me a hero for preventing this place from ruining more lives!
Jason’s best friend Samson, a big hunk of a man who worked in security at the building, had warned him that he was toeing a dangerous line with his boss, but Jason just laughed at Samson’s concern and said that he knew how to keep his boss happy.
In fact Jason had figured out just how to keep Tom happy from the first day. Whenever Tom was unhappy with Jason’s performance, Jason would buy a nice expensive bottle of scotch and sneak it onto Tom’s desk. By the next day, Tom had drunk most of the bottle and completely forgotten Jason’s failure to exceed the last quarter’s goal. This was something that Jason prided himself on and he always made sure that he was just above the quarterly quota for recruited agents.
Jason was currently working on a proposal for another college fair recruiting station that Tom had informed him was essential to get in by the end of the day. Jason figured that he could push the proposal to the end of the week safely, citing difficulty connecting with the various departments at the colleges in the area.
As Jason checked his email for the umpteenth time that day, he noted that he had a very strange email in his work inbox. It read:
DO YOU HATE YOUR JOB AND WANT MORE EXCITEMENT OUT OF LIFE? (We know you do)
Come down to the Ulysses J. Thompson Center and come experience the next level of excitement!
Now recruiting for new positions the likes the world has never seen before?
New powerful areas of expertise!
New incredible levels of excitement!
DO YOU DARE COME EXPERIENCE THE NEXT LEVEL IN JOB?!?
This Friday, Saturday and Sunday; May 4, 5, and 6th only!
Surrounding the strange announcement was a typical comic book-esque sound effects such as “BAM!” and “POW!”. In fact, the whole announcement seemed to be coming directly off the pages of a comic book.
Jason chuckled to himself at the email, There’s no such thing as a superhero, Jason mused. Only delusional idiots who dress up in “cosplay” and attend conventions. But man, I really do wish that there was such a thing as Super-Dude or Fantastic Girl. I spent so much time as a kid reading those stories hoping that one day I would receive powers too.
Jason’s childhood fantasies had gone unanswered though and he had grown up to a thirty something no one who was overweight, angry at the world, and stuck at a dead end job. Jason trashed the message and made a mental note to send an email to Terri the IT head to have her update the spam filters.
Jason signed and finished sending the email that would somehow get lost on the way to his contact at his alma mater. Maybe he would misspell the email address or add an extra period in there to make sure that it was never delivered. Jason grinned, knowing that for all intents and purposes, he could show that he was doing the work, but it would go nowhere.
It’s good to play the chaotic neutral guy every once and a while, Jason bemusedly thought to himself. I’m doing enough to make it look like I know what I’m doing and doing it badly enough that no work actually gets done. Let’s see if Tom can figure out why this email never got through to the university. I bet it’ll take a week and a half, Jason bet.
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With the end of the day, Jason threw on his coat jacket and made his way out of the building, meeting up with Samson at the front desk. When his dark-skinned friend came out of the back, Jason asked him, “Up for some brews tonight dude?”
“I’d love to man,” rumbled Samson. “But tonight my momma needs me to stop by and drop off some groceries. You remember that she had hip surgery from her fall the other week right?”
“Oh yeah,” Jason replied lamely. “How’s she doing now? Feeling better?” Jason really tried to make it sound like he cared, but from Samson’s reaction, Jason could tell that his friend wasn’t buying his lame excuse at sympathy.
“She’s doin’ alright man. Havin’ a hard time gettin’ up off her bed and needs to have someone come help her get up every few hours.” Samson sighed. “I just wish that it wasn’t just me who was takin’ care of her now though. I tried reachin’ out to Shania and Sierra but Shania’s out in Cali trying to break into the acting scene and Sierra’s not picking up her phone, again. I swear that girl loses her phone every three months.
“Sorry I can’t make it out tonight Jay; rain check?”
Jason thought for a second before he remembered that Shania and Sierra were Samson’s sisters. Catching himself ignoring Samson’s question, Jason quickly replied “Yeah, no problem man. It’s a Wednesday and I probably better go home rather than spending the night drinking, eh?”
Samson chuckled a deep basso laugh. “Yeah bro. The last time we went out, you got totally wasted and I had to carry you over my shoulder home. I think that fourth margarita was a mistake man.”
Jason laughed good-naturedly at his friend’s ribbing. “Yeah, you’re probably right dude. But that chick was hot and she kept rejecting my drinks!”
“Still getting over Shantae, huh?”
“I know it’s been over three months since she dumped me, but I still cannot get her out of my head dude. I’m trying to move on but everything in the apartment reminds me of her.”
Samson sighed and wrapped Jason in a big bear hug, “You know man, there’s therapy out there to help people get over life stressors like that. I even went to see one when my ma got sick man, and that helped somethin’ good. My therapist helped me get at peace with potentially losin’ ma.
“You know how it was, me and my sisters bein’ raised by a single mother. She always took good care of us and I want to do the same for her. It’s just a lot harder than I thought it would be.”
Jason nodded in agreement. He had lost both his parents not too long ago; his mother had passed due to breast cancer complications and his father had not lasted too long after. The doctors had called it a heart attack, but Jason knew that it was because of heartbreak. His parents had been together for 40+ years and losing his mother had been really difficult on his dad. They had been inseparable, even to the very end, and Jason’s father had been there when his mother had passed in the hospital. He had never been the same after and passed only a few months later.
Jason smiled grimly at his friend and choked out “Yeah dude, I know how… I know how you feel.” He could feel tears welling in his eyes, but quickly brushed them away with a flick of his wrist.
Samson’s face fell and he quickly apologized, “Oh man, I’m sorry, I forgot about your folks passin’ away last year. You really need to see someone? Wanny see my therapist? He’s got openin’s I think?”
Jason smiled wanly at his friend. Samson was the best kind of friend, always looking out for Jason. He and Jason had met just after college when Jason had started his job at the insurance firm and had become fast friends over beers one night.
“Thanks dude,” he croaked. “But I think I’m just going to call it a night. Maybe I’ll look into your therapist later.” Jason hated lying to Samson, but the man could be adamant about dealing with untapped emotions. Jason had his own solution: push them down until they’re no longer a problem. That had gotten him through college and his job, mostly intact. The fight in college had been due to him losing his temper, but that was because the other guy was a jerk, Jason constantly reasoned, not because he had trouble dealing with his emotions.
“I’m just going to go home and maybe sink a few hours into World of Mindscape. I’m almost at level 45 and I have an epic quest that will get me a rare mount.”
“Man you play that game too much. You need to get out of your head more often,” Samson warned.
Jason shrugged. “No idea what you’re talking about dude!” he yelled back at Samson as he left the building for the day.
“DENIAL!” came Samson’s retort through the glass doors as they shut.
Jason laughed as he knew that Samson always had to get the last retort in. Ever since they had met, they had good-naturedly tried to one up one another at every turn, but Samson always seemed to get the last verbal retort no matter what Jason came up with. Samson’s wit was astounding.
Jason sighed as he waited at the bus stop for his bus to come take him back to his apartment. He’s right you know, Jason’s inner monologue chided himself. If you don’t take care of some of this pent up emotion, you’re going to blow a gasket. Just like at college. The idiot didn’t even say anything to you. He was just joking with his friends about some random hookup he had.
Yeah, retorted Jason’s more hotheaded side, and his “joke” was about getting a girl drunk enough that she couldn’t remember that she had sex with him the next day. The guy was an ass.
True, replied the calm side. But that didn’t warrant you smashing a beer bottle at the back of his head.
Yes it did! The clown would have gone and done it again had I let him continue on that night. I saw him eying the blonde in the next room.
You don’t really know that. He could have been caught trying to sleep with her, or she could have turned him down, or any other number of scenarios could have occurred without you smashing a beer bottle on his head. Plus, you could have been smarter about where you knocked the moron out. You could have done it in the bathroom when there weren’t five of his burly football friends around.
Jason grunted in frustration. He hated arguing with himself as he always lost no matter what side he took. But his calmer side had a point: had he not broken the bottle over the guy’s head, he probably wouldn’t have received a broken nose, a black eye, and several broken ribs the day before his big interview. But Jason was never one to stand aside when there was someone who was about to be hurt. It had gotten him into trouble more than once, especially when he was a kid.
As Jason got on the bus, he remembered all the times where he had attempted to stand up to bullies in grade school. He had come home more than once with a split lip or black eye, but each time his parents had congratulated him when he explained his injuries and always encouraged him to stand up for the little guy.
It’s too bad that attitude has not gotten me anywhere in this life except hurt, Jason thought to himself bitterly.
By the time that his bus arrived at his stop, Jason had worked himself into a funk of self loathing and was in no mood to play games. Jason let himself into the small apartment that he had been able to rent after his breakup with Shantae and looked dejectedly at the lack of decorum in the apartment. Bare walls with minimal furniture greeted him and various piles of dirty laundry and garbage littered his living room.
Jason plopped on the couch, too depressed to do anything about the mess in his living room and checked his phone. There was a single message from Samson waiting for him:
Samson: Hey man. I know that this year has been tough on you, especially after losing your parents and Shantae breaking up with you. That was cold of her to kick you out of your old apartment and take the cat. If you ever need anyone to talk to, just let me know man and I’d be happy to chat. Maybe we can even do it without alcohol next time. Keep it real man.
Jason smiled in spite of himself. “Keep it real man” had been the tagline that he had used after the first time he had hung out with Samson. Samson had liked the phrase so much that he had been using it ever since, much to Jason’s chagrin.
Jason typed out a quick reply thanking Samson for following up on him and promised that they would get together to meet up sometime soon.
A blinking notification at the top of his phone alerted him that he had a message still waiting to be read. Jason checked the notifications and found that he had received an email. When he pulled up the email, a familiar sight reached his eyes:
DO YOU HATE YOUR JOB AND WANT MORE EXCITEMENT OUT OF LIFE? (We know you do)
Come down to the Ulysses J. Thompson Center and come experience the next level of excitement!
Now recruiting for new positions the likes the world has never seen before?
New powerful areas of expertise!
New incredible levels of excitement!
DO YOU DARE COME EXPERIENCE THE NEXT LEVEL IN JOB?!?
This Friday, Saturday and Sunday; May 4, 5, and 6th only!
God, would it kill them to use something besides Comic Sans? That burns my eyes every time I see it. As Jason read through the email again, he wondered how the same email had arrived in his personal inbox in addition to his work inbox. Man these guys are persistent. They must have some kind of bot that allows them to send to all the emails on various networks or some techie crap like that. I’ll have to ask Terri if there’s something that she’s aware of that would allow people to send emails on a network. Maybe one of the idiot new guys downloaded some spyware onto the computer or something.
As Jason was about to delete the email, a small tagline at the bottom of the message caught his eye:
Come find out if you have what it takes to be a superhero. Trials open Thursday morning at 5 AM.
Jason swore that the tagline had not been there before. Now that he was on his personal phone, there was no way to tell, but he could check via his laptop. Jason quickly logged on remotely to his station and checked the deleted email. Just as he thought, there was no tagline at the bottom of the original email that he had received at work.
Well, Jason mused. It looks like I’ll be calling in sick tomorrow morning with flu-like symptoms.
Jason chuckled to himself. There was no such thing as a superhero. If there was, Jason was sure that the news would be filled with the daring escapades of superheroes rather than just comic books. But, he had to admit to himself, there was always something in the back of his mind that wanted to be a superhero.
As Jason fell asleep on the couch watching the latest rerun of The Zipper: Fastest in the Universe he set an alarm for himself to wake up at 4:30 AM. Might as well check out this “superhero” business. I bet it’s just some ploy.