It was Tuesday. Tim the Printer Guy was getting his daily abuse from Skeeter about money, life, the lack of success—all the woes that plagued them both. Spit was flying into Tim’s face as he stood still, listening to Skeeter’s blind rage. Skeeter's dark brown hair was starting to stand on end, breaking away from the thick gel that usually cemented it back. Tim noticed the wrinkles, which now adorned his boss’s once youthful face, fill with sweat. It soaked through his striped dress shirt and stained his elastic suspenders.
“My father is not going to appreciate this insolence, Tim!” Skeeter finished his rant by slamming his hand on the table. “Last week, you had only three training courses done. All the stores’ executives are on my ass all the time asking about progress, and I don’t have a lot that I can show them. They are probably going to drop our services entirely!”
“I have some people who are almost done with the courses,” Tim the Printer Guy said. ”It has just been hard with all the business taking up employees' time. Customers are always getting in the way of the ProSales learning. You should tell those executive guys that they are getting more business than ever despite the lack of training courses being finished.”
“They pay us only for the ProSales training. If we aren’t doing that, then they will stop paying us, you idiot!” Skeeter flung more rage towards Tim the Printer Guy, throwing his hands in the air.
His explosive expressions were common recently, and Tim had heard all these rants before. Even though Skeeter seemed to be in a particular foul mood this morning, this was a ritualistic display of power. It was apparent to Tim the Printer Guy that Skeeter’s method of venting his ongoing problems always took the form of tyrannical shouting.
“Look, if you can just get two people to sign up for the new course we put into the app, then I will consider paying you this week,” said Skeeter.
“Do we have any money in the budget for prizes for the employees?” asked Tim.
“That’s another thing! You're spending too much of the company’s money on that. I gave you a modest budget of six dollars to spend on drinks or bags of chips. How do you lose it so fast? Are you using the coupons we gave you?”
“I want to give something special to some of the people I see. Sometimes they just want something like an energy drink to get them through the day,” Tim the Printer Guy said, valiantly standing up for the workers.
“The coupons don’t cost us and you still have a bunch, so just give them those! I am not giving you a budget anymore, that was just for if you run out!”
“Where do you have me going today?” asked Tim.
“You can start by going to that PaperClips store. Spend about a few hours there and then go down the street to the Best Value.”
Tim the Printer Guy froze and thought about the chance to see his lovelies again. He knew that if anyone would be able to finish these courses, it would be them—they were so beautiful and bright.
“I will go now,” Tim the Printer Guy said, firmly.
Skeeter was a little shocked to see Tim so unusually dedicated to this particular task. “Well, that is more like it. I am glad to see that you are ready to work today,” he said.
Tim the Printer Guy was more than ready. He would take any opportunity to spend time with the workers that so greatly peaked his interest. PaperClips was just such a different experience. Octavian, Mikeal, Jamir, and the nubile Cage gave Tim so much hope and comfort. They reminded him of art and the magic of living. He saw them as his koi pond, and promised them his printer knowledge and protection.
It had been a full week since Tim's unfortunate incident with Octavian at DYMO gym. His eyes were still a little swollen and his nose was broken, but the Doctor had managed to stop the bruising. After those large, veiny gremlins punched him in the face, Tim the Printer Guy had eventually gotten up from the floor. Octavian, being his normal, courteous self, had offered to take him to the hospital, but Tim knew he still had to prove he was tough and deserving. Tim the Printer Guy had driven himself home and soon enough, Skeeter put him in contact with the Doctor, who had bandaged him up and provided a bottle of mysterious medication, to which Tim could not help but overindulge in.
After leaving Skeeter’s office, Tim the Printer Guy felt his stomach start to growl and rumble—an unusual hunger today. He took some pills to try and calm the aches, but after a few moments, the pain continued to rage inside his abdomen.
I wonder if I have any hot pockets left? Tim thought to himself.
His car was in its usual state of chaos: wrappers littered the seats and the dashboard, stains could be found in the oddest places, and there was a strong stench of either sweat or trash. Tim and Skeeter’s office was in a strip mall close to the highway, so he was near a lot of chain fast-food restaurants. Options were plentiful and all delicious to Tim—who enjoyed the cheapest kind of food—but even those were too expensive today. Payment had been scarce this month, so it seemed that it was trash cans again for Tim the Printer Guy. PaperClips was waiting too, soTim did not have a lot of time to waste.
He got into his car, feeling the familiar stench hit his nostrils. The smell was not hideous to Tim, as this was the mark of his safety and territory. Maybe, though, there was a morsel of something delectable hidden within the discarded wrappings of food long gone. Tim the Printer Guy sifted through the debris and found nothing but leftover cheese, stuck to the seat. He licked off what he could, then started his car up. This was not going to satisfy him in the slightest, but he had to get to the store—the Adonises were waiting!
The long drive to PaperClips seemed to take an eternity. Each time he made the journey, Tim could feel the length of it affect him more and more. He wrestled with intense hunger while fantasizing about seeing the PaperClips employees again, despite the fear that Octavian would drudge up Tim’s failed attempts to prove his strength. Octavian and the others deserved so much better than him, and Tim the Printer Guy felt a deep shame that he could not live up to what they needed. Even so, there was an overwhelming urge to once again bear witness to their charms.
After a while, he made it to the store. Tim the Printer Guy checked his phone to see what training courses had to be done, and also looked into his collection of incentives. The coupons he had today were all so valuable: a $15.00 gift card for burgers, two-for-one tacos, and a free dress shirt with a purchase of a suit. He contemplated stealing one of those vouchers for his own selfish desires, but Tim the Printer Guy knew he could not deprive his lovely men of these valuables, the prizes that fueled their commitment to train. He also did not have the usual budget allocated to him by Skeeter. He had to savor these gift cards and present them all to the Adonises, who might grow angry if he had nothing to give back.
Suddenly, Tim saw a brilliant sight by the front door of the PaperClips—a trash can. It was overflowing with beautiful sustenance that tempted Tim, as it always did. There were bags of fast-food, possibly still filled with salty treats; unfinished ice cream cones that contained gooey, melted, sugary soup; and luscious banana peels. The desire to shove his face in that can was all too powerful, but gremlins filled the parking lot and the store. If one of them were to see him do so, he would feel the deep shame of his gluttonous nature. The Adonises did not deserve the slob of Tim the Printer Guy, who wanted only to prove himself to them. But maybe a quick look would do the trick, as the can was indeed overflowing with pristine, fast-food bags. Tim just had to avoid the gaze of those sneaky, disgusting gremlins.
He walked up to the can and began the plunge, quickly rummaging through the leftover grease and grime that was sure to end Tim the Printer Guy’s insatiable hunger. Through his desperate reach, he found a half-eaten burger. As Tim the Printer Guy raised the food to his mouth, he started to salivate intensely. After one bite of this saving grace, Tim started to break from his carnivorous state. He looked up and saw a window, directly in front of the trash can, which led into the store. Adem was staring back at him.
That bastard, Tim the Printer Guy thought to himself, witnessing Adem’s menacing glare. Adem had certainly been observing Tim at his absolute worst, feeding off of his shame. Tim the Printer Guy, who desperately did not want Adem to have the satisfaction, quickly acted as if he was in the process of throwing the burger away.
“I am done with this burger! Time to throw it away in the garbage now!” Tim shouted, hoping that Adem would hear him through the glass.
There was a final scowl from Adem before he walked away, a declaration of his insidious intentions. Tim needed to have his presence known to the Adonises at once, to perhaps sway them from Adem’s deceitfulness. He swallowed more of the mysterious pills and rushed into the store. The first to greet him was Jamir, who was standing by the front desk, entering some things into his computer.
Jamir Sambol was the exotic wonder in Tim’s life. He had a mocha brown skin tone with a wispy mustache, similar to the style throughout Mongolia. He wore turbans that would vary in color and, at times, feature a feather in the middle. Today, he was sporting a light blue one, in addition to his PaperClips uniform and slipper-like, satin shoes, which were pointed with bells on the tips. His stature was on the shorter side, close to that of Cage, but he was portly. An Adonis did not require a slender or muscular frame—there only needed to be a powerful, inner beauty, which Jamir greatly possessed.
“Oh hey. Tim, right? You’re the printer guy?” asked Jamir.
“Yeah that's me!” Tim exclaimed. “Sorry I haven’t been here in a while. I have to try and get to every store besides yours, too.”
“That’s alright, we know you’re busy,” Jamir said without much eye contact.
“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of you being here on this most exotic day?” Tim the Printer Guy spouted, looking deeply at Jamir, drinking him in.
Jamir appeared nervous and startled by that statement, yet he remained aloof and tried to maneuver past Tim’s awkwardness, saying, “I always work Tuesdays…”
Tim the Printer Guy bit his lower lip, then pulled out his phone. “So, I have some courses to get done today and a chance to win one of three prizes!”
“Yep.” Jamir’s inflection was still monotone. “That sounds exciting…”
Tim continued, picturing the coupons in his bag. “A gift card for food, another gift card for food, and a gift card for a dress shirt! Not that you need any help with your appearance!” Tim was as flustered as ever.
Jamir kept his professional composure, despite looking a little uncomfortable. “I actually did have a question for you about the new printers that we got.”
Tim the Printer Guy was taken aback, though it shouldn’t have been a surprise; Jamir was always the soft-spoken intellectual of the group. “Ask away,” he said.
“So, the box says that the manufacturer will send you ink automatically when your printer gets low.”
“Yeah…” Tim the Printer Guy said, eagerly.
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“How does the manufacturer know when it's low?” asked Jamir.
“What do you mean?”
“How does the printer company know when the printer ink gets low? Do the customers still have to do something to order ink?” Jamir wondered.
Tim the Printer Guy needed to catch his breath. “I am sorry, I don’t know if I understand the question,” he said, slowly.
Jamir was growing impatient. “Is there a separate network thing, or software they need to install, or does the printer have something built into it?”
“You know,” Tim the Printer Guy took a deep breath, “I will get back to you on that.”
Jamir just had to accept that the printer guy was stumped. He went back to typing on his computer and ignoring Tim’s presence. “Cage is around here somewhere, you can talk to him once he is ready,” he said, seemingly frustrated and with no eye contact.
“I was hoping to see you, though, since you are the one with the least courses done,” said Tim. “Don’t you think a supervisor such as yourself needs to be the top dog around here? I got some new assignments too, maybe you might find your answer to your ink question there.
Jamir stopped typing and turned to look at Tim. “Okay, I got some stuff to finish up, but I will come and find you,” he said.
“Allllllrighto, sounds gooooooooood,” Tim said awkwardly. “By the way, is Octavian here?”
“He is off today, I am the manager on duty,” Jamir said, bluntly.
“Coolio… let me run to the bathroom and I will meet you in the printer aisle.”
Tim the Printer Guy ran to the back of the store, trying to avoid the intrusive eyes of the gremlin customers. He had failed yet again to prove himself to one of the Adonises. Perhaps the solitude of the stalls would provide a sanctum for him to ponder Jamir’s question. It was of relief that Octavian was not there to drudge up the past failure, but Tim the Printer Guy still did not want to be seen as a simpleton, as well as a weakling. Tim sat down on the toilet and deliberated the request of the inquisitive Jamir.
“What is this, some kind of riddle?” he asked himself. “Has Jamir begun to question my status?”
Tim the Printer Guy was the senpai of all the printers. How could he get stumped already?
“Maybe this is a test?” Tim thought aloud. “A way for Jamir to fool me into thinking he was the master.”
Tim the Printer Guy swallowed another handful of the soothing medication. He felt the anxiety around him fade away, as his body became more numb. The hunger elevated and further dazed his state of mind. Tim sat back on the toilet and succumbed to this medicated bliss. Soon he started to see whimsical manifestations of Jamir, who was in a beautiful, flowing, satin dress. He danced all around Tim the Printer Guy, as the toilet became a mountain of pillows—the throne of a sultan—seduced by a wife of the harem. Tim the Printer Guy felt a royal turban grace his head as he watched Jamir dance. Hookah smoke enveloped his body, mimicking his fluid motions, sending Tim further into a cloudy stupor. There was ecstasy in watching the beauty of Jamir wave scarves around his head. Tim attempted to reach out and grab one, but Jamir quickly snapped it back. Tabla rhythms pushed their way into Tim’s ears along with the hypnotic sound of sitar and sanṭūr strings, plucking along with increasing speed. Jamir picked up some sort of foreign, pastry delight and moved it towards Tim the Printer Guy’s mouth. The rhythm of the drums continued to build, bringing Tim’s heartbeat to a fierce pace. Saliva was dripping down Tim the Printer Guy’s chin as he inched forward for a bite, but Jamir snapped it back again.
“You naughty tease!” Tim the Printer Guy shouted.
“Hello? Excuse me?” called a voice.
Tim snapped out of his lurid daydream and realized he was still in the PaperClips bathroom. Adem was peeking through the cracks of the stall doors.
“It would be you, you crafty pervert,” Tim whispered to himself.
Adem rushed out of the bathroom and Tim the Printer Guy was again alone on the toilet.
I will have to answer this riddle or risk the persecution from Jamir, thought Tim, my worth as a master is on the line.
After taking the time to wipe and pull up his pants, Tim the Printer Guy made his way out of the bathroom and to the sales floor. He saw Jamir standing by the printers looking like a lost, little fawn, so he staggered over, still a bit numb from the pills.
“So Jamir… Are we… uh, ready to get your questionzzz ans—word and win some prizes?” Tim the Printer Guy slurred through his words.
“Are you okay Tim?” asked Jamir.
“Oooh I’am gooood, the question is… are yoooou?”
The medication was finally taking its toll on Tim’s motor skills. He stumbled a bit and waved his finger at Jamir’s face.
“Do you need some water?” Jamir asked with a considerable amount of concern.
“I am goooood and I was think-king ab—owt the riddle you gave meee.”
“What riddle?”Jamir questioned.
“How the printer place can know printer levellssss,” Tim the Printer Guy said, feeling the dullness interfere with his vocabulary.
“Oh… okay, yeah. I was hoping that you could answer my question about that.”
“Well the thing isss…” Tim the Printer Guy hesitated, “depennnnnding on the company, there is some sort of nnework thing that works, butt yoooouuu do nut have to dowwwnload it. I think that printer sends all-erts you-zing the company web-a-site.”
“Tim, are you sure you are okay?” Jamir asked. “I am having trouble understanding you.”
“No neeeeed to question me!” Tim the Printer Guy snapped. “How about you just take theze courses on the ProSales app and then you can find yer anssswer.”
Tim instructed Jamir to get his phone out and navigate to the ProSales app. He showed him the courses that were already loaded, and left Jamir to take them. Tim the Printer Guy needed to go back to the bathroom and deal with this mental obstacle he was experiencing.
“Excewzze me,” said Tim, already in the process of leaving the printer aisle.
He rushed back into the bathroom and clutched the edge of the sink. He turned on the faucet which soon gave him a comforting drone. Tim looked in the mirror and splashed some water in his face.
“You got to ssssober up Tim!” he awkwardly yelled at his reflection. “There is no room for slip ups! Especially when they are waaatching you so closely.” Tim the Printer Guy slowly started to regain stability in his thinking and speech.
He looked down at the bottle of pills. Their destructive tendencies were impeding on the communication he was having with the Adonises, yet they gave him so much relief. Through the medication, he was able to conquer the intense physical pain he was in, as well as the anxiety to engage with them socially. He slapped his own face, as an attempt to grab hold of this moment and gain control.
“Alright, now it’s time to get going. You can’t screw this up, you hear me. I don’t want to hear it! Jamir is out there—they all are—looking for your guidance. I am the master here! I maintain balance and order. C’mon!” He slapped his face again.
Tim the Printer Guy walked back to the sales floor and found that Jamir had left the printer area. He was back by the computer, typing away and seeming to not even acknowledge the customers that passed him by. Now that Tim had mostly overcome his medicated drunkenness, he felt comfortable to approach Jamir.
“So, uh… Did you finish your course?” asked Tim.
“Yeah it was easy.” Jamir lifted his phone to show Tim.
“And did you get your questions answered?”
“Yep… Everything was in there and easy to understand.” Jamir stared deeply at the computer screen.
“Oh good, I was hoping that would be the case. I did not want you to be confused or anything.”
“I wasn’t, but yeah, I have some things I really need to get done around here so is there anything else you need me to do?” Jamir asked.
Tim felt defeated. Seeing that Jamir was so adamant on moving on from the training session, his energy plummeted as the failure of this moment became a sword in his stomach. The only thing that Tim the Printer Guy had left was the incentives he brought.
“Well, you get a little prize,” Tim said with forced enthusiasm.
“Oh yeah, I will just take the one for food or whatever.”
“There are two for food…”
“Then surprise me, I really don’t care.”
Tim slowly pulled out the first thing he had—a $15.00 gift card for burgers. His hand started to shake as he presented Jamir with his prize.
“Fifteen big ones that you can use at any of the burger destinations featured on the ProSales app,” Tim the Printer Guy said.
“Thanks.” Jamir set the card next to the computer.
“Can I also get a picture of you, now that you are done with your course?”
“... A picture?” Jamir asked, unsure.
“Yeah… It’s for the executives.” Tim the Printer Guy took out his phone camera.
Jamir held up his digital certificate, but did not turn to face the camera. Some tears started to form in Tim’s eyes, while snapping the pictures.
“Yep, the executives are gonna love this,” Tim the Printer Guy said, holding back his pain.
After Tim saved the pictures of Jamir, he looked at the clock and started to remember Skeeter’s task. He needed one more person to sign up for the new course or he was surely going to get punished. Another week without pay was something Tim could not endure. He looked around the store again.
“Is there anyone else here today that is ready to train?” Tim asked.
“Adem is around here somewhere, but I think Mikeal just got done helping another customer,” said Jamir. “You can talk to him.”
“Okay great!” Tim exclaimed, not wanting any part of talking to Adem.
Tim retreated to the printer section and signaled to Mikeal that he was ready for him.
“Mikeal! How are you doing?” asked Tim the Printer Guy.
“I am alright, how are you?” asked Mikeal.
“Oh you know, better now that I see you!”
Mikeal furrowed his brow, which Tim took as a signal that he was too eager and needed to calm down. “Eh… do you have another course or something?”
“You read my mind like you always do!” Tim was sweating.
“Okay sure… What is it?”
Tim the Printer Guy started up the ProSales app and showed Mikeal the new courses. It was good to know Mikeal could always be there for Tim and his time of need, spreading beauty through Tim’s mind and soul. “Yeah if you finish this course, you will get something special,” Tim the Printer Guy took out the two leftover coupons.
“A dress shirt with the purchase of a suit?” Mikeal stopped to look at the voucher, which was unlike all of the food-based ones that he brought in the past.
“Yeah, you can get something special to impress a special someone,” Tim the Printer Guy said with an intense focus on Mikeal.
“I’m sure my girlfriend would appreciate that.”
Tim felt the world stop. “Girlfriend?” he asked.
“She thinks I should dress better,” Mikeal said. “I always wear t-shirts and jeans. She thinks it's weird that I don’t have any formal clothes.”
“You shouldn’t have to change for someone like that.”
Mikeal continued not listening to Tim. “Though it wouldn’t matter these next few days, since we are going to the lake.”
“The lake?”
“My parents have this lake house. I am taking her tonight and we will stay there all day tomorrow.”
Another sword was thrown into Tim the Printer Guy’s heart. “You are leaving tonight? What lake are you going to?”
“Red Flow Lake… and Penn Island, just an hour away from here,” said Mikeal.
“Yes I know that well,” Tim struggled to maintain composure. “My father used to take me there.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait. It will be our first trip together!”
“How about we focus on the ProSales course and then we can talk about your girlfriend,” said Tim sternly pointing at Mikeal’s phone.
“Oh sorry,” Mikeal returned to take the quizzes. “I’m just excited. We are leaving right after I get out of work.”
Tim didn’t want to hear any more. “We gotta focus on ProSales,” he said.
“I had a rough day today, so she is picking me up,” Mikeal piped in, not listening.
“Well, if you work on these courses, you won’t have rough days anymore.”
“Alright I am done,” Mikeal whipped his phone around to show Tim his certificate of completion.
“Oh… Congratulations,” Tim the Printer Guy welled up as he saw his time end with another Adonis.
Mikeal looked over at the clock and realized his shift was just about to end. “Oh dang, look at the time,” he said. “It’s already time to go!”
Tim the Printer Guy watched as Mikeal walked directly past him and out the door. He stood in absolute shock, contemplating all of the previous moments they had together, wondering whether or not it was all a lie. This was the doing of Adem, it had to be! His conniving ways had foiled Tim the Printer Guy once again. Tim walked out the door and saw Mikeal jump happily into a black Jeep with an unknown temptress behind the wheel. The both of them drove off, leaving Tim and his overwhelming sadness in their wake.
Something blew by Tim the Printer Guy’s foot. It was the ProSales burger coupon that Jamir had won—left on the curb as trash. He picked up the paper and felt it between his fingers. The sadness became anger as Tim crushed the coupon and threw it back to the ground. His face was red, and his eyes were misty.
“No more failures,” he said.