Life had never worked out as well for Wyatt as he would have preferred. Attending university left him with a piece of paper that was not useful in gaining better employment and took as much debt to attain than your average mortgage. Yet despite all that higher learning, Wyatt found himself at a call center trying to help old idiots get their internet back online. It wasn’t anyone’s dream to be tech support for the elderly, but Wyatt often imagined how high tech the world could be when he got older, and it drove him to be supporting and helpful rather than judge his elders. By being friendly as well as outgoing in his support, Wyatt did what he could to guide the clients to the service they needed or booked a tech, usually in record time. He was never one to mosey around and move on to the next person who had a personal crisis going on because they couldn’t access their social media of choice. He was sitting at his desk, talking to a client when she walked by, and he took a moment to glance but not stare. He had been crushing on someone named Monica at his workplace but despite her being nice to him, even Stevie Wonder could tell there was nothing going on there. Wyatt had gone on a few dates, but never really found someone who wanted to commit to something long term. Dream on, he would always tell himself after he watched her walk by, as Monica was nothing more than a pipe dream. Wish on one hand, and shit in the other was a term his friends would often tell him. Their cute way of telling him to move on and not obsess about shit he has no control of. Wyatt was just two days away from his twenty-fifth birthday, so he knew his friends were going to do something, but he had no idea what. Sometimes they’d just take him out for a dinner or a movie, and sometimes they prank his ass to keep him on his toes. Wyatt had no idea what was going to happen this year, but he was determined to get ready for anything.
He was sitting at his desk taking a call when his boss walked over to speak with him, gesturing to him.
“What’s up?” Wyatt asked, after putting the client on hold.
“I need to speak with you,” his boss replied, “Come to my office after this call.”
“I’ll be right there,” Wyatt said, “Almost done anyway, just be a sec.”
Wyatt finished his call and calmly walked into his boss’ office only to realize that not only was his boss there, but the floor manager as well. They asked him to close the door after he walked in, and he did so unsure what was going on.
“Is everything alright?” he calmly asked.
“Have a seat,” his boss replied, which wasn’t an answer.
“We’ve had to make some tough decisions,” the floor manager started, “And we’re letting you go.”
“Excuse me?” Wyatt said, rather shocked by the revelation. “I’m being let go?”
“Yes,” his boss confirmed, standing behind the floor manager’s chair.
“This has got to be a joke,” Wyatt replied, “Who put you up to this?”
“This is no joke, Mr. Harris.” The manager said, “You are being let go. Can you pack your desk quietly or should we call security?”
“Oh,” Wyatt said, as the point was sinking in. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you going to get upset?” his boss asked.
“I’m not sure why I’m being let go.” Wyatt said, “I’ve been your top agent for the last few months and all last year. I’m the best you have!”
“Numbers isn’t everything,” the floor manager replied, contradicting years of saying the exact opposite from him at every floor meeting he attended.
“Fine,” Wyatt said, standing up. “I’ll go pack up.”
With that, Wyatt walked out of the office and back to his own desk. There was nothing he could do to change their mind, so there was no point fighting it. The other agents as their desks watched in shock as Wyatt packed up his bags and emptied out his desk. Their shock was fueled by fear because Wyatt was one of their best and if his job wasn’t safe… no one’s was. As he walked off the floor with his stuff, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him and could hear the questions that were likely going around in their heads. What did he do? Had to be something big for them to ignore his record. Truth was Wyatt was still in shock and couldn’t think of a reason why he was being let go. The statement his boss made about sales not being everything was about as amusing as it was total fucking bullshit. This place was always willing to spew that kind of hypocrisy as long as they got their way. So, no matter what was going on, Wyatt was content to be rid of their political crap and looked forward to life without this stressful and very ungrateful call center. His boss watched as Wyatt stepped onto the elevator and waved as the doors started to close.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Good luck,” his boss said to him.
Wyatt smiled back, “Go fuck yourself.”
The doors closed before his boss could reply. The last thing Wyatt could see as the doors were closing was his shocked face. The call center has a no reference policy, so it wasn’t like there as a reason to be polite. It felt weird heading home that early, but Wyatt didn’t care as he strolled into his apartment and tossed all the stuff that he brought home onto the couch, and then crashed on the lazy boy by the television. He played some video games for a few hours on his PlayStation to clear his mind as he tried to forget about what happened earlier to expend his anger and hostility from the situation. Wyatt didn’t have to worry about money, because had has been saving his bonus every month for a while and had banked some serious coin. He was going to use it to take a killer vacation that summer, but now it was his backup while he looked for new work or waited for unemployment to kick in.
“Felix,” Wyatt said, leaning on the bar, “You look far too sober for my liking.”
“Wyatt Harris!” Felix said with a look of surprise when he turned to see who was addressing him. “What dare I ask are you doing here on Wednesday night?”
“Does a man need a reason to drink with a friend?” Wyatt retort.
“Never,” Felix replied, “But isn’t it a school night?”
“Not anymore,” Wyatt said, taking a deep breath. “I was let go today.”
“Good,” Felix said, with a serious look on face.
“Really?” Wyatt said, stunned. “I got fired.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Felix chided back, “Despite your talent for helping morons reconnect to the net, that kind of work environment is unhealthy for that frail little noodle between your ears. I’m unsure what you should do, but we are not meant to be seated at cubicles, doing time for the man for a meager penance. It’s just degrading!”
“Holy crap Felix,” Wyatt said, “Don’t hold back… let me know how you really feel about the subject.”
“I’m serious,” Felix insisted, “You deserve better. I have no idea what that is, but almost anything is better than using a phone for eight straight hours a day, trying to solve problems and upsell shit to the masses.”
“I get the point,” Wyatt replied, “But I just left. I’m not worried about what I want to do next and would prefer to get some drink on and blow off some steam. The future and what I do next will still be lingering over my head tomorrow.”
“Good attitude!” Felix concurred as he slammed the bar with an open hand. “We need another round! We’ll be here all night!”
“We close at three,” the bartender said as he served the two men their drinks.
“Then we’re here till three!” Wyatt as he raised his glass, starting off what would be a long night of getting smashed beyond all recognition.
“I am,” Wyatt confirmed, “I’ve got nowhere to be tomorrow and have a lot of steam to blow off. Let’s paint the town!”
That is exactly what the two men did, as they partied deep into the night and until last call. Wyatt wasn’t known for this kind of behavior, but he wasn’t going to work the next day and it wasn’t every day that happened to him. His problems and his lack of employment would still be there the next day and tonight was about having fun and trying to forget about everything for one night. Wyatt wasn’t running away from his problems rather than just taking a break and would return to them with a fresh mind and a little less stress after spending a whole night with buds blowing off a serious amount of steam. When the bar eventually closed, Wyatt was eager to hit a place that was opened later, but Felix lied about it. He told his sloshed friend that all bars had to close at three by law and that no other place was open. Felix dragged his friend him, opened the door for him and tossed Wyatt into his bed. Making sure his lightweight friend was laying on his side to prevent choking, Felix locked up and crashed on the couch just to make sure his friend was alright. He knew this was a rare occurrence, as Wyatt was usually better than him. Losing his job without a reason drove his desire to drown his sorrows with alcohol, but it was never the answer. Felix would be there for him in the morning, to help with the hangover and make breakfast for his friend. It was the least he could do for a bud that was down on his luck and needing a friend. He knew Wyatt would do the same for him, which was why Felix held back when drinking that night. He could tell Wyatt was on a bender and might need some help, and he didn’t see anyone else around. So, fate have selected Felix, and he had to step up. Wyatt did the same for him awhile back and it was only fitting he get an opportunity to return the favor. He checked in on his friend one more time to make sure he was alright and smiled to see he was fine.
“Don’t worry bud,” Felix whispered from behind the door, “I got your back. We’ll get through this together. Sleep well and enjoy that incoming hangover.”
As Felix turned off the ringer on his phone, dropped it on the coffee table, and crashed on the couch which was a lot more comfortable than it looked. He soon closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, unaware of what was going to happen the next day. As his old man would say, it would be something right out of left field.