March 4, 2002, 8:54 AM:

For some reason, I really didn’t want to come to work today. And I wouldn’t have come in at all but I have to save up all of my vacation days for the Florida road trip with Dwight. Seriously, our plans are awesome. We’re driving down, of course. Still have to decide whose car we’re taking. As much as Dwight loves his Trans-Am, I doubt that it would make it down and back without breaking down along I-95. Anyway, we have several stops planned along the way: Marvin Johnson’s Gourd Collection, South of the Border, Savannah, St. Augustine, places like that. Dwight apparently got us a really good deal at a hotel in Miami… we’ll see about that once we get there.

Today is Monday. Today is the first day for our new receptionist. Tomorrow will be the last day for our new receptionist. I mean, since Jenny retired a month ago, we’ve practically had a new receptionist each week. They just can’t take Michael, and Michael basically can’t take them. Yeah, he’s strict and everything, but it’s their job to be at their desk to answer the phone and not be gossiping in the kitchen. Okay, Michael shouldn’t have yelled at and then fired Claire after she left the desk to put in her contact lens back in.

And Michael could have been more sympathetic when Kristy was late due to a family emergency. You know what? Michael just needs to calm down. He takes his job way too seriously. I mean, it’s a Northeastern Pennsylvania-based mid-size paper company. It’s not NASA or Microsoft. I probably would have been fired a long time ago if it wasn’t for Dwight. Out of all the people in the office, Dwight is the only one that Michael actually likes, which is good for me since Dwight’s my best friend.

Speaking of Dwight, look who just walked in. Heh… someone definitely didn’t get enough sleep last night.

“Morning, Dwight.” I have to give him a smirk.

“Shut up, Halpert,” he replies as he gets to his desk. After looking at his phone for few moments, he looks at me. “I had a long night.”

“I figured. What’s her name?” Seconds later, a pen flies past my head. “Ya missed!”

“You know that I haven’t dated since Margaret.”

“Maggie.”

“Margaret.”

“Dwight, you do realize that that’s one of the reasons she broke up with you.” I hate his death glare. “I’m joking, man. Joking. You calling her ‘Margaret’ was the least of the problems.” And here comes another pen.

“Why are we friends?” He turns on his computer.

“Um… maybe because I’m the only one that can stand you?” He’s really going to run out of pens and I’m definitely not going to retrieve them.

“Michael can stand me…”

“Yes, but would you bring Michael along with you on a road trip to Florida?”

“Of course not. First off, he would think it’s a waste of time. Secondly, he wouldn’t take a road trip, he would insist on flying since it’s more efficient. Third, he would scare away all the ladies. And lastly, he would want to talk about paper products the entire time.”

“Wow… you put way too much thought into that.”

“Yeah.” He glances at Michael’s office. “Is he in?”

“He’s in the conference room with Toby and the new receptionist. They were talking to her before I got here.”

“Michael’s probably grilling the poor girl.” He looks to me. “Jim.”

“Dwight.”

“The whole receptionist thing is really aggravating Michael, so we should really try to make sure that this one stays.”

“Sure thing.”

“Jim, I mean it. We need to help her in any way we can. And you, sir, should not be playing any pranks on her.”

“Aww… but the pranks are harmless.”

“Yeah, after knowing you for a while, but the first day? Not a good idea.” Dwight’s about twelve years older than me; he’s very much like an older brother. He knows when to mess around but he also knows when to take things seriously. Apparently now would be one of those “serious” times.

“Fine, Dwight. No pranks today. I promise.”

March 5, 2002, 11:36 AM:

“… thus, the percentage of the discount will depend on how long the customer has been with Dunder-Mifflin and how much the customer orders.” I look up at my new boss to see if he’s finished talking. I didn’t realize that transcribing would be part of my responsibilities as a receptionist, but apparently it is… along with other duties. Why did I decide to get a job? Hmmm… let’s see, maybe because I have a wedding to plan and my fiancée and I have very little cash to do it with. Maybe because Roy would rather buy a new big screen television than save up money for the wedding. Maybe because I was going stir-crazy just sitting at the house all day. Maybe… anyways, I think you get the point. Unfortunately when I mentioned getting a job, Roy automatically mentioned that this receptionist position was open. Here. At the same place that he works. Now, I love Roy. I wouldn’t marry him if I didn’t, but I really don’t want to see him 24/7.

Oh, looks like Michael is kicking me out of his office to type up this letter to the sales staff. Yeah, the sales staff. Whole different story than Michael. You have Stanley and Phyllis who talk to each other constantly. Stanley is always talking about his daughters and Phyllis is always talking about knitting or something inane like that. How those two do work is beyond me. Michelle and Roger are in the back so I don’t really speak to them much, but I do know that Michelle just gave birth since the first thing she did was show me a picture of her son. Gotta say… ugliest baby in the world. Roger, on the other hand, just got through a divorce so he was hitting on me the first time I met him. Yeah, I’m very happy that those two are in the Annex.

Then, the last two sales reps: Dwight Schrute and Jim Halpert. Apparently, the two are best friends. They seem like night and day, but I look over there and they’re smiling and laughing together. Dwight’s kind of like that nerd in high school that you befriend because you feel sorry for them. Like Screech from “Saved by the Bell.” He’s just a bit off. When the two introduced themselves to me, he said that he was the Assistant Regional Manager. Jim shook his head to convince me otherwise. Okay, now to Jim… he seems like a nice guy. He gets along with everyone in the office, except maybe Michael, but that’s probably a whole other can of worms. But for some reason, there’s something about Jim that I just can’t put my finger on. And that something makes me not like him. At. All. Is it his hair? Or the way he laughs? Or the looks that he gives me? I don’t know what it is but it just bugs me. I usually don’t judge people before getting to really know them, but at the moment, I don’t want to get to know Jim Halpert.

“Excuse me, Pam?” I look up from the computer screen to see Angela, the head accountant, on the other side of my desk.

“Yes, Angela?”

“I’m head of the party planning committee here and I was wondering if you would like to join. “ She smiles at me. “It’s always nice to have fresh ideas. Plus, it would help you get to know everyone else better.”

She’s so nice. I mean, really? She’s way too nice. It’s like if sugar was a person, it would be Angela. I really can’t refuse and hurt her feelings. “I would love to, Angela. Thank you.” I hate planning parties.

In a flash, she’s hugging me. Why is she hugging me? I really don’t like to be hugged by people that I just met. She finally lets me go and I resist the urge to shudder. “Oh, Pam, you won’t regret it. I’ll see you at lunch, okay?” And all I can do is nod. Another hug and she leaves.

“Got suckered into the PPC, I see.” Oh, nice, it’s Jim. At my desk. Why isn’t he working?

“I wasn’t suckered. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

“About as fun as pulling teeth, Beesly.” Wait, what?

“Um… ‘Beesly’? I prefer ‘Pam’.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s a habit of mine. Calling people by their last names.” If only I could wipe that smile off of his face.

“Yeah. Don’t. Anyways, listen, Jim, I would really like to get back to work, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

He looks surprised. I don’t know if it’s because I wanted to work or if I’m telling him to leave. Either way, he gets the message and goes back to his desk. Of course, not without giving me another one of his Jim looks. God, I really hate him.

March 8, 2002, 12:26 PM:

“Seriously, Dwight, she absolutely hates me.” I get my grape soda from the vending machine. “Did I do something wrong?”

Dwight looks at me from the table with a serious expression. “Jim, I’m sorry to tell you this, but sometimes people just don’t get along. Even with you.”

I take a sip. Honestly, I don’t know what happened. I didn’t play pranks on Pam. I didn’t give her a hard time. I tried to help her out with things like the phone system and the fax machine. I tried to warn her about Angela and the Party Planning Committee. But in the end, she hates me. She gives me looks of disgust and resentment. Whenever I try to talk to her about non-work related things, she brushes me off. And it’s not like she’s a workaholic. I’ve seen her have conversations with Angela or Meredith. Hell, she talks to Dwight about beets! But for some reason, she absolutely hates talking to me. I greet her in the morning and all I get is a head nod. When someone else greets her, she greets them back with a smile. The woman is impossible.

I take the chair at the table. “Dwight.”

“Jim.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know you ate the candy bar I left on my desk yesterday.”

“Wait… no. I mean, yes, I did eat your candy bar and I’ll get you a new one, but I was apologizing for something else.”

“The nickels in my headset?”

“No. I already apologized for that… just listen to me before you rattle off all the things I’ve done to you.”

“Okay… what are you sorry for?”

“I promised that I wouldn’t play pranks on Pam, but—“

“Yeah, that’s not gonna win her friendship.”

“Well, she pretty much made up her mind about that before it even began. But, seriously? I just gotta prank her. She’s been asking for it all week.”

“Jim…” He looks at me.

“Just to even the playing field.”

“God, do I even want to ask which prank?”

March 8, 2002, 4:51 PM:

Finally, this week is over. This place really isn’t that bad. Michael apparently likes me enough that he’s not going to fire me. At least that’s what Dwight told me. I found another person to watch “Gilmore Girls” with me since Roy hates that show with a passion. It’s not Dwight, by the way. It’s Angela. We’re going to have viewing parties each week at her place. According to Kevin and Oscar, she makes really good brownies. It’ll be a total girls’ night in. And lastly, I’m able to tune out Jim. He doesn’t exist to me. After I gave him the cold shoulder this morning, he hasn’t been to my desk the entire day, which is fine by me. I don’t need him and his annoying smile and his…

“What the hell!” I stare in the bottom drawer of my desk. There’s a Jell-O mold. And there’s something inside it.

My keys. Someone put my keys in a Jell-O mold and put in my drawer. What asshole puts…

I look straight at him. He stares back. He can barely contain that smirk of his.

Jim Halpert, you’re dead.