The Last Day

We’ve finally reached the end. About a week or so ago, I convinced Phil to let me bring a twelve-inch black-and-white TV into the store so we can watch tapes during the work day in the store's office (behind closed doors, of course) so we might begin to reclaim the last remaining shards our personal lives. We can get away with watching porn at work only because we have 100% staff participation in the task and because we have our All Male Cast.

By and large, this has worked out well and has failed to result in any awkward situations. Until today.

Michael [Ed: the chain’s Marketing Director, a friendly and outgoing fellow, but decidedly heteronormative] came to our store with some promotional materials. When he let himself in the back door, Eric was slumped in a chair with his arms crossed, glaring at the TV and looking alarmingly like an eight-year-old being forced to watch “Masterpiece Theater”.

Michael happened to enter at a choice moment. The TV screen displayed an extreme close-up of a vagina – so close up that there was no room on the screen for anything else.

Michael stood beside Eric and watched the screen for a few seconds. Then he gave Eric the Monty Python “nudge nudge” with his elbow and said, “Oh, ‘hard’ at work, I see.”

Eric’s head turned slowly, his eyes closed to narrow slits. He raised one eyebrow, and his lips disappeared. Very quietly, wearily, he said, “I hope I never see another vagina again as long as I live.”

Michael laughed loudly and said, “Oh, now, I know you don’t mean that.”

Eric pointed to the TV and said, “Okay, then let’s say that I hope I never see one that big ever again.”

Michael laughed politely but sincerely, left his marketing materials and let himself out the back door without saying anything more.