A couple of years ago, my old boss, Michael Scott, wrote a book. I’m sure you’ve heard of it, The Michael Scott Story by Michael Scott, (which was actually ghostwritten by Dwight Schrute). The book was about his entire life and, surprisingly to me it did relatively well, possibly because it was released on the coat tails of the documentary ending. You know the documentary I’m talking about, the one that followed the lives of my coworkers and me when we all worked at Dunder-Mifflin. So, he wrote this book and then it became a hit. And then the movie came out. Honestly, I wouldn’t bother with any of it if it weren’t for the fact that my husband and I are so directly involved.
I need to set the record straight. The movie? Black and white. And the girl who played me? Well, I don’t believe she’ll be winning any Oscars anytime soon. Michael’s book, I should point out, even though it’s clearly obvious, is highly exaggerated. A lot of it is untrue. I’m sorry to disappoint you but no matter how much Michael Scott insists that it’s real, there is no secret sex tape of Jim and I screwing around in the office. And I did not appreciate that the movie producers felt they needed to reenact that, especially since my daughters accompanied me to see the film and were subjected to something I can only describe as painfully incorrect.
The most accurate portrayal of my life is the documentary itself, but even that was highly edited, and I can see where there’s a lot of room for interpretation. But since Michael’s book and the new movie have given such a skewed view of my life, I’ve decided that maybe it’s time to get my version of the story out there.
--
Dunder-Mifflin, in case you were wondering, was founded in 1949 by Robert Dunder and Robert Mifflin. Rob and Bob as so I’m told they were called. And Dunder-Mifflin was a company that sold brackets to construction companies. By the early ‘70s, they began to sell office supply products and by the late ‘70s, they sold only office supply products, emphasizing in paper. In 1983, the Scranton Business Park was built and Dunder-Mifflin moved in, the second business to do so. And at the turn of the millennium, the mildly successful, yet teetering company needed a new receptionist and I needed a job….
I found the job through a placement agency and within a few days, I was seated in a cramped conference room across from a very exuberant regional manager and a meek and timid HR rep. As I’ve gotten older, I have forgotten a lot of things, but meeting Michael Scott has not been one of them.
“She’s hot, let’s hire her,” was the first thing I ever heard Michael Scott say. Michael looked a little different then. He was somewhat heavier, his hair a little greasier, but his obliviousness and self-unawareness in social situations has never changed.
I was nervous to begin with; hearing him say that didn’t make the situation any better and I was uncomfortable being interviewed by a man who was blatantly checking me out.
“Michael, that’s inappropriate,” Toby Flenderson replied. I still keep in touch with Toby from time to time and I can honestly say that he has changed as little as Michael. He was newly married then but still squirmy in his seat, fidgety, playing with his wedding ring as he tried to rein Michael in. When Toby spoke, it was quiet and with a slight whine. “I think we need to ask her a few questions first to see if she can do the job.”
“Why are you even here?” Michael asked sharply, his head snapping towards Toby. I hadn’t even spoken a word yet, remaining as calm as possible, ankles crossed, hands entwined and set in lap, trying to be as ladylike as possible. Michael didn’t seem to notice me in that moment; all I could see was the hatred for Toby on his face. To this day, I couldn’t tell you the exact reason that Michael had such dislike for Toby, I can only say that I was witness to it from the beginning.
“I have to be here,” Toby responded in his subdued way. “Remember? Jan said,” Toby’s voice faded the more Michael glared at him. “Jan said we both needed to—“
“No,” Michael snapped. “Why are you on this planet. Bothering me. Forever bothering me you are. You are just so…”
Toby began to talk over him. “So, Ms. Beesly, it says on your resume you worked as the night receptionist for at Marywood.” Toby didn’t look at me as he spoke, staring intently at my resume. “Do you think any of your skills would apply here?”
I nodded and began to speak but Michael cut me off. “Can you type fast?”
“Uh,” I stammered. “I can type ninety words per minute.” It wasn’t a lie. I could type ninety words per minute then and hell, yeah I could still do it now if you asked.
“Can you use a fax?” Michael asked.
“Uh, sure,” I replied. I didn’t know how to use a fax but it ended up being simple to learn.
“Can you play a musical instrument?”
“Michael…” Toby interjected. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Michael scoffed, waving him off with his hand.
I nervously shifted in my seat. The two other jobs I had before never required official interviews but I knew the situation I was in was not a normal interview. “I don’t really know how to play an instrument,” I gave. “But I can draw.”
Michael’s face lit up. “”Can you draw anything?”
“I—“ I began to nod slowly.
“Michael,” Toby tried again, attempting to regain control of the interview. “I have an entire list of questions that we can use to help determine—“
“She’s hired,” Michael insisted.
I was excited about the job but the frown plastered on Toby’s face worried me. “Michael, we have twenty other applicants not to mention—“
“Are they here?”
“No but—“
“Then shut it.”
“Mi-“
“Shut. It.”
I should have picked up on the fact, after watching how Michael treated Toby in the interview, that maybe Dunder-Mifflin wasn’t the greatest place to work. Michael essentially became like a child that I would need to care for and what I was paid, especially in those early, was not enough for the amount of scrutiny I went through. But I took the job anyway.
--
Not many people ask me about my first day at Dunder-Mifflin. Jim gets the question all the time but he also loves telling the story. And I’ll bet Michael gets asked as well or will tell anyone even if he’s not. I know I’ve heard Ryan and Erin talk about their first days in various interviews. But I’m not sure I’ve spoken about my first day much.
There wasn’t anyone to welcome me when I arrived. The old receptionist, a woman named Barb, who had worked for the company for nearly thirty years, had recently retired and was already gone by the time my first day rolled around. I was early that day and I stood near the reception desk, watching people arrive for work, most of them not even giving me a second look as they passed me. Eventually, Toby arrived and I spent the morning doing paperwork. There wasn’t any training involved, after I was done with all the paperwork, he sent me back to the reception desk with only the Dunder-Mifflin official employee handbook to look through.
The handbook took about five minutes to get through and then I cleaned up what little was on the desk. I hadn’t brought any personal items with me and Barb had cleared out nearly everything, so there wasn’t much to rearrange. I did have a computer that originally was on a smaller desk behind me, where I suspected originally a typewriter had been. The computer was ancient even for that time and when I turned it on, I found that not only did it not have internet access, it didn’t even have solitaire. So, for the next forty-five minutes, I sat quietly at the reception desk watching my coworkers as they went about their day and pondering if there was something I should be doing.
Eventually, the phone rang. At first, I wasn’t sure if I was the one who was supposed to be answering it but when no one made any attempts to get it, I picked up the receiver.
“Thank you for calling Dunder-Mifflin Paper, this is Pam, how may I assist you?” I recited, my voice a little shaky.
“Jan Levenson-Gould for Michael Scott,” a cold voice came through.
“Uh, just a second,” I stammered as I stared blankly at the phone. A list of transfer numbers were taped to the phone but not sure how it worked, I ended up hanging up on Jan. I was glad that at the time I didn’t know who she was or else I would have felt worse about hanging up on my boss’s boss. She called back a minute later, using a shorter tone with me the second time.
I made sure I got the transfer right. “Michael,” I said into the phone. For some reason the blinds were drawn and I couldn’t see what he was doing in his office. I later learned that when the blinds were drawn, I didn’t want to know.
“Barb?” He asked into the phone.
I paused a moment, a little shocked that he didn’t know who I was. “No, Barb isn’t here, this is Pam, the new receptionist.”
There was a rustling on the other line and suddenly the blinds whipped open, Michael appearing on the other side of the glass. “Oh, Pam, right. My new hot receptionist is here,” he giggled. I wasn’t sure what was worse, the fact that Michael hadn’t noticed I wasn’t his old receptionist for the first part of the morning or that he referred to me as the hot receptionist, a title that stuck with me for most of my first year until we had an intern named Jen come to work with us that summer. She was nineteen, blonde, and Michael felt she was much hotter than I was. She wasn’t, however, the hottest intern that would come work for us, according to Michael but I’m sure you can guess who he felt was. “What can I do for you?”
The red light blinking on the phone almost felt like it was Jan herself. “There’s a Jan Levenson-Gould on the phone for you.”
He scoffed. “I don’t feel like talking to her.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Um, do you want me to take a message?”
“Yeah, tell her I’m busy,” Michael said, promptly hanging up the phone.
When I went to change lines, I accidentally hung up on Jan for the second time. I could tell she was getting pissed off when she called back. “Just give the phone to Michael,” she pleaded.
I got the sense that she was close to yelling so I tried to be polite as possible. “Um, I’m sorry Ms. Levenson-Gould but Mr. Scott is busy right now, can I take a message?”
Jan let out a grunt. “He’s busy, really?” She was correct in being skeptical, all Michael was doing was playing with the toys on his desk.
“Uh…” I stuttered. “Yup.” It was the first lie I ever told for Michael Scott. As you know, it wouldn’t be the last.
“Fine,” Jan huffed. “You tell him, though, that if he doesn’t get back to me by one, his boss will drive down from New York to talk with him personally because she’s tired of him avoiding her.”
“Alright, no problem,” I said as calmly as possible as it dawned on me that Jan was from corporate. Feeling that Jan’s threat was genuine, I went to give Michael the message. “Jan said you need to return the call as soon as possible,” I told him, attempting to imply that it was serious that he do so. “She said she would come from New York if you didn’t.”
Michael was too preoccupied with his Koosh-ball. “Pam, what is in these things that make them so bouncy?”
“It’s probably the rubber,” I answered, unsure as to why it was so important to him. “Michael, I really think you should call Ms. Levenson-Gould back. She didn’t sound happy.”
“Rubber, really?” Michael was fascinated with the little toy, holding it by one of it’s many arms and jiggling it around. “You think this is the same stuff they put in fake boobs?”
My jaw dropped, speechless. “I…” I didn’t know whether to respond or not. Instead, I chose to refocus Michael. “I really think you should call her back, I don’t think it’s good if she comes down from New York.”
Michael looked up, only comprehending the last part of the message. “Oh, she said she was coming? Why did she bother calling then? Haven’t seen her since last week. Hey, Pam, think fast.” Without warning, Michael threw the Koosh-ball at me. It hit my arm and fell to the ground. Michael burst out laughing like a child.
I remained standing there, a blank look on my face. Michael didn’t act like a normal boss. Michael didn’t even act like a normal human being.
“Oh, you’re no fun,” he said dismissively. “Why are the hot ones never fun?”
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know,” I said shaking my head.
He went back to playing with his toys. I stayed for a moment, waiting if there was anything else he wanted but when he made no attempt to speak further to me, I left his office.
The rest of the day slipped by with little incident. Before lunch, Angela had me copy, double-side and staple, a stack of papers for her and then yelled at me when I didn’t do it to her standards. Stanley had me do a fax, which I got correct on the first try. And Creed, who I found out had been the longest standing employee there, came up to my desk mentioned to me that my scoop neck blouse wasn’t revealing enough. It was after that I decided I should start dressing more conservatively at work.
Lunch was lonely. I sat a table by myself with my lunch packed in a brown, paper-bag while the others sat in groups all chatting and gossiping. There were a few looks in my direction but no one said a word to me and it felt a lot like being in middle school again. I ended up eating alone for the first few months until Roy was hired in the warehouse and would join me twice a week. After lunch, the only person who paid any attention to me, Toby, asked if I was enjoying my first day. I gave him a shrug. I could have commented on Michael’s behavior or how I felt like an outsider with my coworkers but feeling that none of it really mattered, I kept quiet.
The rest of the afternoon was spent taking phone calls, doing easy tasks such as copying and faxing, and enduring a long conference room meeting with Michael that didn’t seem to hold any purpose. I slowly was growing into my job. By the end of the day, I had the phones down. By the end of the week, I knew how to use the copier like a pro and by the end of the month, I felt like I had been doing the job for years.
I met Dwight in the afternoon after he returned from a morning full of sales calls. I wish I had a spectacular first Dwight story but he didn’t say two words to me the whole first day. He was busy talking with Miles, the salesman who occupied the desk next to his, arguing that his new small business idea was worthless and raving about how well his beet farm was doing, pointing out that if Miles really wanted to be successful, he would have to go into agriculture.
Miles was a handsome man. He was twice my age and had trained in the army. I could tell underneath his crisp, clean suits that he was built and I couldn’t help but stare at him from time to time. But more than that, he seemed like a nice guy and would occasionally come up to reception and talk to me, the only person, besides Toby that would ever do so in those early years. I still was very much in young love with Roy at that point but my eyes would often wander to that desk. He did leave a month after my first day to start that company. I don’t remember what it was, something I believe having to do with computers but whatever his idea, I’m sure it was more interesting than beet farming. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, even though we were barely work friends, I felt a little sad when he left. The desk next to Dwight remained empty for another two years.
Miles wouldn’t be the only personnel change in my early life at Dunder-Mifflin. Marjorie, once head of supplier relations, almost after the documentary started since she didn’t want to be on camera. The documentary crew had already started shooting when Meredith took her position. Kevin started six months after I did. Four accountants was a bit much but two weeks before the documentary started shooting, unfortunately, one of the accountants, Tom, killed himself and it was no longer an issue. Kelly was hired a year after I was. The girl who used to work in customer relations quit to find a better job and a young, but still overly cheerful, Kelly took her place. I thought it would be nice to have someone close in age work with me but after a week of Kelly’s incessant chatter, I decided I would rather be alone at work and was grateful her desk was in the annex…poor Toby.
People came and people went but for the most part everything stayed the same.
I used to think a lot about Barb in those earlier days, picturing her doing the same job I was, only for most of her life. I often wondered if she ever enjoyed the same empty grind of menial tasks that required no thought. I wondered if she took pride in her work or if she, like me, drudged on day after day, hoping that something would change. I might have thought that my first day was atypical, that something would change once I settled in but no, that was how it was, unchanging, monotonous, dreary.
That was my life. Until the day I met my husband.
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Chapter Notes:
A few notes-
This is the first story of many I have planned for a series. Haven't named the series yet, but I'll let you all know when I've got a title.
I took down The Interview since most of that will eventually be incorporated into this new series.
Thanks to Callisto for the beta!
Thanks again to everyone who took a chance on my first story, The Accident. I hope you enjoy this one as well!!
This is the first story of many I have planned for a series. Haven't named the series yet, but I'll let you all know when I've got a title.
I took down The Interview since most of that will eventually be incorporated into this new series.
Thanks to Callisto for the beta!
Thanks again to everyone who took a chance on my first story, The Accident. I hope you enjoy this one as well!!
