As we eat our sandwiches, he tells me all about Stamford.  Karen seems awesome, I’d love to meet her.  If she worked in Scranton, she’d probably be the one woman in the office I would get along with.  I joke that I may have some competition; he responds by kissing me again, telling me I have nothing to worry about.  I wasn’t serious, but I appreciate the reassurance.  And Andy?  Okay, this must have been how Jim felt when he met Dwight for the first time.  This man sounds like an alien, or-or a robot!  Yeah, a robot that’s a walking, singing ad for Cornell University, who blew a fuse and now wants to ‘Kill All Humans!’.  He told me how annoying he finds his nickname.  I respond “I dunno, personally speaking, I love Tuna.”  He just shakes his head, trying (and failing) to hide his blush, “Clever.”

Then we clear the air.  Of everything.  No more secrets, no more denial, no more lying.  If we’re doing long-distance, then there’s not a thing that we should hide from each other, even if we think it’s for the other’s benefit.  We’ve already apologized to each other, yet we still apologize some more, so much so that we’re afraid the words “apology”, “apologize” and “sorry” would lose their meaning amongst us; we’ll make sure they don’t, we know we’ll need them again.  I tear up at points because of course, I do, so he simply just wipes them away and kisses me.  After that, we lounge on the couch so we can watch some of his shows, just being a new couple for a while, me snuggling up against him as he holds me and loves me.  It’s bliss.

After a long bout of us just being us again, he lets me take a shower first.  I can tell he cleaned up the place for my arrival, there is no way his bathroom would look this pristine.  Still, the gesture is appreciated.  I’m now in my PJs, reading comfortably in his bed (“You’re a guest in my house, Beesly, I’m couching it.”), with my glasses on.

As he walks into his bedroom, I can tell he’s spent, just as much as I am.  He doesn’t even notice I’m in his room when he — to my awe and enjoyment — takes off his sweater and his shirt.

I’ve always been attracted to Roy, even now, despite everything.  After that basketball game, though… for as tall and lanky as Jim is, I would have never guessed he’d be that toned.  Those baggy dress shirts do not do him justice.  He is a tad skinnier than I remember.  Still, hot damn.

He turns around, jumping when he realizes I’m right there, his cheeks immediately becoming red.  “Um, yeah, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“You know you’re cute when you’re flustered,” I say with a cheeky grin.

His face brightens through a sigh of relief as he grabs his own PJs (thankfully leaving the shirt off), “Again, sorry about that, I forgot you were in here.”

“Jim, we’re together,” I clarify, “It’s okay.  Besides, I was enjoying the view quite a lot.”

“Is that all I am to you?” he jokes, “Just a piece of meat?”

“Maybe,” I joke, “You look pretty tasty.”

“Slow down there Bees,” he fake warns me, “You need to wine and dine me first.”

“That can be arranged.”

With a chuckle, he enters the bathroom.  It’s about 45 minutes later when he comes out in his PJs, hair still a bit wet.  He jumps to the other side of the bed, laying on his side, happier than I’ve ever seen him.  “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” he points out.

“Yeah,” I admit, placing my book on his bedside table, “I wear contacts when I’m out.”

“How bad is your vision?”

I take off my glasses and place them at the bedside as well.  “Imagine if the copier at work ran out of toner.”

“Oof, that bad, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Why don’t you ever wear them out?”

I scoff, “Have you met the people I work with?”

“Who cares what they think?” he asks seriously.

“I don’t,” I clarify (which I do care a little, to be honest), “it’s that everyone will make a meal out of it.  Michael will tell me I’ve quit trying, Kelly will make a backhanded compliment, Kevin will judge how hot I look with them on or off, and Angela will still find a new, unique way to call me a whore.  Any deviation from my normal fashion sense will stir some sort of controversy because no one at that place has anything better to do.”

He nods.  “If it’s any consolation, I think they make you look cute.”

I blush, “Really?” I say like a lovesick teenage girl.  I’m insufferable right now, but I’m happy.

“Yeah,” he kisses me on the cheek.

As I shift to my side, wrapping my arms around the pillow, I look at his handsome smiling face as my smile begins to fade.

He quickly takes notice as he holds my cheek, “What’s up?”

“I should’ve known,” I begin with regret, “I should’ve broken up with Roy before he even proposed.  Would’ve saved us both a lot of grief.  Then we—” I pause, the what-if killing me, “This should have happened earlier.”  He looks at me with those damn hazel eyes again, full of concern.  “I wasted so much time, I was so young and stupid,” I finish, my own eyes glassy.

“Hey…” he cups my face with both hands, wiping away my stray tear with his thumb, then slowly leans in to give me a tender kiss.  “You loved Roy.  You wanted a life with him.  You were young, sure, but never stupid.”  I know deep down that he’s right, it just doesn’t help.  “And… God knows how many mistakes I’ve made.  I tried to move on, wanted to, was going to, I just couldn’t.  I drove off, never bothering to contact you or anyone else from work.  Now that you’re here, I should have stayed.”

I can see how deep in regret he is, so it’s my turn, “You were impulsive, but I get it.  You wanted to move on and not dwell on the past.  I don’t blame you for feeling that.  Besides, you’re finally being recognized for your talents.  As I said, you earned this.  And Casino Night… you did wake me up, Jim.  If it wasn’t for that kiss I would have never reevaluated my relationship with Roy.  I can’t thank you enough.”

I kiss his temple, him doing the same to mine.  “How long?” he asks.

I’m confused, “How long what?”

“How long have you had feelings for me?”

I don’t hold back, might as well be honest.  “Since the day I met you.”

“Likewise, Beesly.”  Dammit, Jim, stop being so sweet.  “Despite all the times I messed up, this was worth every second.”

I just wrap my arms around him in response.  He notices I’m upset, so he gently strokes my hair as he holds me to calm me down.  “Why can’t I get past this?” I think out loud, “I’m happy, happier than I’ve ever been.  So why am I hating myself?”

“You’re telling me,” he says, his voice filled with regret, “I have the Pam Beesly in my arms, I shouldn’t feel like shit right now.”  I hold him tighter to calm his nerves as we pull apart slightly, still looking at each other, our foreheads touching.  “We’ve forgiven each other, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, we did.  I think we need to forgive ourselves now.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I know,” I take a breath, “but we can make this work.”

“We need to get over ourselves if this is going to work.”

“Exactly,” I respond, “We just need to forgive and forget.  I’m willing to do it if you are.”

“I’ll certainly try,” he shrugs.

“Do or do not, Halpert,” I say with a smirk, “there is no try.”

“Wow, Star Wars?”  He’s back.  “Didn’t take you for a nerd.”

“Oh, like you’re one to talk.  You love Battlestar Galactica just as much as Dwight does.”

“Dammit, you found out my secret,” he jokingly says with a hint of shame.  He knows I’m right.

I laugh, “It’s not like you’re a difficult read.”

He chuckles and kisses my forehead.  “Well, I’m gonna go to sleep.  This entire day has been… wow.”  He rolls off the bed.

“Me too,” I say, “I’m swamped.”

As he walks to the doorway, there’s something I need to tell him, “Jim?”

“Yeah?” he turns back to me.

“I’m in love with you.”

He looks down and smiles, warming my heart that he knows I don’t need to hide anymore.  He simply replies, “I’m in love with you,” with the same intensity from that night, now without a hint of sorrow, anticipation, or regret.  It’s like we’re in one of those cheesy rom coms I hate, yet I can’t bring myself to care.

“Goodnight, Jim,” I say quietly.

“Goodnight, Pam.”  He flicks the light switch for me and closes the door softly.  With a deep breath, I get comfortable, drifting off into the best sleep I’ve had in months.

The next morning consists of us eating bacon and chocolate waffles, watching TV, and just being in each other’s arms, a true Lazy Saturday before we go on our first proper date tomorrow.

Amid our comfortable lounging, sprawled on the couch, me on my back to him with his arms around me, a thought suddenly occurred to me, “Wait, do you still have to go to Australia?”

“Nope,” he answers honestly, “I refunded it when I decided to transfer.”

“You said it was non-refundable.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” he sulks.  I can hear a heavy breath through his nose, him getting pissed at himself.

“Hey,” I respond gently, soothingly rubbing his arm, “Forgive and forget.”

“Forgive and forget,” he echos.  I lean up to kiss him on the cheek.  Just like that, we’re both okay again.  We’re both still getting used to the whole ‘forgiving ourselves’ thing.  Hey, it’s a start.

“We should still do something for that weekend, though,” I suggest, “I mean, I still have eight workdays off for the wedding and honeymoon.  Do you still have yours for Australia?”

“Yeah,” he clarifies, “It was too late to unschedule my leave.  I was gonna use that time to distract myself after everything between us.  Now,” he shrugs, “guess I have five days to kill.”

I don’t wanna dwell on what ‘distracting myself’ would entail.  “I know you’re not a traveler, but there’s still time to go somewhere domestic, a change of pace,” I point out, “I think it’d be good for both of us.”

“Yeah, good point,” he agrees, “Where did you have in mind?”

“I was gonna ask you that, it’s your choice,” I offer.

“Oh, is it now?” he asks oh so quizzically.

“Yes, it is,” I confirm with tenacity, “So, where to?”

Having known the man for six years, the answer’s obvious.

3.05 Initiation

“Brainteaser,” Dwight quizzes an unenthused Ryan, “I have two coins totaling 15 cents, and one of them is not a nickel.  What are they?”

“A dime and a nickel,” Ryan answers.

“No, I said, one of them is not a nickel.”

“But the other one is.  I’ve heard that before.”

“Okay,” Dwight considers another one, “A man and his son get into a car accident.  They are rushed to the hospital.  The doctor says, there is no way I can operate on this boy, bec—”

“Because he’s my son.  The doctor is the boy’s mother.”

A new battle has begun.  “A man is found hanging from the ceiling—”

“He stepped on a block of ice, hung himself, and the ice melted.”

“…A hunter—”

“It’s a polar bear because you’re at the North Pole.”

“DAMNIT!” he frustratingly pounds the table.  The battle has been lost to the enemy.

Pam talks quietly to the doc crew about how she and Jim keep contact, “Jim’s been working long hours lately and we don’t wanna use company property after Wallace’s email, so we decided to send handwritten letters.  He said he would send a letter back the next day,” she sighs through this next sentence, “It has been a week.  Patience is a virtue.”

Cut to Jan in Michael’s office, keeping a tally of everything he’s done in the past week just to make sure he’s on track; considering Scranton’s branch is in danger of closing, she’ll not have her mistake with Michael affect her job.  The single thing she’s decided to dedicate her entire life to.

“Tell me what you did yesterday,” she tells him.

“Uhhhhhhh Nothing.”

Not the answer she expected or wanted.  “Nothing?”

“Yeah, nothing,” he answers all-too-casually, “How was your day?”

She believes this man is an alien.  “I don’t care how your day was Michael.”

He takes offense to this, “Wow, well.  Okay.  I don’t care how your day was either, Jan, I was just asking you because you asked me.  Why do you set me up like that?”
“Tell me what you did yesterday.”

“I… worked.  And then I went home to my condo.  And Carol came over.  And then we had sex.  Is that what you want to hear?”  Despite her smirk at the camera, that is exactly the last thing she wanted to hear.

“Never, ever, ever sleep with your boss,” Michael advises the crew, “I am so lucky that Jan and I only got to second base.”  Yup, how lucky.

Fed up with his lack of productivity, Jan wants an hour-by-hour log of everything he’s doing.  That’s not how Michael rolls, though, for sometimes he’s in the zone or zoning out (clearly Jan doesn’t know slang, he’ll get a book from Amazon).  She gives Michael a chance: If he can account for his hours (aka do his damn job), then corporate can justify his salary.

His response?  “A woman spurned.”

She has to go.

“Hi, Pam,” Jan greets her in a rush.

“Hi.”

“I’m great.”  O-kay.  “So, Pam I would like you to keep a log of everything Michael does hour by hour so we can analyze it at corporate, okay?”

Are you serious?  “Oh, I don’t know if I’m—”

“Thanks, Pam.”  Pam just sighs as she puts the folder down.

“It’s weird,” the crew cuts to Pam reflecting on what’s happening, “Jan used to treat Michael like he was a ten-year-old, but lately it’s like he’s five.”  Her and Ryan seem to be on the same wavelength.

As Jan leaves in a huff, Pam realizes she needs to tell her something, “Jan?”

The VP of Sales, five feet away, turns around and addresses her impatiently, “Yes.  Pam.”

“We never got the chance to thank you.”

Jan’s entire disposition changes.  Though she doesn’t want the branch to close, it’s pretty inevitable.  But what Jim said on Casino Night, well, she wants to avoid anything she went through happening to him.

She’ll root for them to the end, but she still has a job to do.  That end is in sight.

With a sigh and a slight smile, she gives Pam one last piece of advice.  “Don’t make the same mistakes that I made.”  She’s made too many mistakes already.

Pam smiles and nods, making sure Jan knows she’s receptive to what she said.  Jan returns it with a single nod, and she’s off.

Pam, forlorn, turns her attention back to her monitor.

Please get back to me.  I miss you.

Dwight’s wide grin is an indication of a series of interesting events to come.  “So you excited?”

“Yeah,” Ryan answers halfheartedly.

“Very excited?”

“Yes.  I’m very excited.”  Clearly.

“Extremely excited?”  Nope.  “Just very?  That’s cool.”  Dwight is extremely excited, much to Ryan’s fear.

Yup, Dwight is going to mentor Ryan on what it takes to be a real Sales Representative.

“Dwight is taking Ryan on a sales call today,” Pam reveals to the crew, “So if we find Ryan’s body in a heavily-wooded area tomorrow, I owe Jim thirty dollars.  It’s an old bet, but a deal’s a deal.”

“I have spent a year here,” Ryan further elaborates to them, “And I have to commit or get out.”  Indeed, he does.  “So, Dwight’s the top salesman in the company and he’s taking me on my first sales call today.  And, um, I’m excited.”  He is actually excited about something work-related.  For once.

Ryan is one who knows his worth, his skill, his potential.  It annoys the piss out of him that he has an MBA, yet he got a temp job at some dying paper company.  Well, now that he’s here permanently, he’ll do what he can to advance his career and get out of this clown show.

He has Jim Halpert’s departure to thank for that.

Barring the fact that he’s not a fan of Jim, Ryan now gets to advance within the company and may someday be hired as a Vice President, probably the youngest in the company’s history.  He knows something that everyone else here is ignorant of: there’s no business in paper anymore.  It’s 2006, laptops exist, they’ve been used for years now.  He can get a better idea of how this system works.  Get an idea of what needs to change in this company.  How it should be changed.  Not only that, it’ll provide him a life of wealth and success.

If anyone could save this company from failing, bring it back into relevance, it just might be Ryan.

But that wealth and success?  It takes effort.  A lot of it.  Wealth and success don’t happen overnight and, even when they do, it still takes effort to maintain.  A great, fantastic, lucrative idea is only a theory.  If the effort to execute said theory is half-assed, everything will fall apart.  That’s a lesson that Ryan has yet to learn.

“I am very excited,” Dwight tells the crew as if it wasn’t obvious, “Ryan hasn’t made a sale yet, but more importantly, he hasn’t made an ally yet.  Is he going to be a slacker-loser-wise-ass like Jim was?  Or is he going to join the ‘Dwight Army of Champions’?”  He does not join, which is a wise decision.

That said, Dwight is the best salesman in the company and the backbone of Dunder Mifflin Scranton.  He holds a secret to his success, a secret that many aspiring sales reps would kill to possess, and Ryan is determined to find out.  It’s unfortunate because Dwight can’t save the branch alone.  Stanley and Phyllis are decent sales reps themselves (Stanley used to have excellent numbers before he stopped caring), but due to the branch’s downward spiral, they can’t pull enough of their weight, and Ryan has pulled no weight.  Time is of the essence.

Dwight blasts rock music on his radio as he drives Ryan through the field.  He has a legitimate question about sales, “So what if they’re not talking much, then does it make sense to kind of lead the conversation?  You know, just ’til it gets to a point where-where they are asking questions?”

Dwight doesn’t answer, a chilling pause as he parks the car.  In the middle of a beet field.

“So where’s the sales office?” Ryan asks, half-curious, half-frightened beyond belief.

Dwight just turns to him, a determined look on his face.  “When you are ready to see the sales office, the sales office will present itself to you.”  Dwight grows a knowing grin as he makes an announcement.  “Your journey begins now.”

Ryan has no idea what he’s in for.

Meanwhile, in Stamf*squeeeeeak* *squeeeak*

Karen shifts in her seat, “Hey,” she addresses Jim.

“What?”

“My chair’s squeaking.”

“Is it?”

She figures it out, “You took my chair.”

“No, I didn’t,” he clarifies, “I took back my chair that you took from me, but I didn’t take your chair.”

“When you get up, I’m just going to take it back anyway, so,” she says, giving him a knowing look.

“So I guess I can’t get up,” he refuses.

She responds with a shrug of ‘Guess not.’  She’s always up for a challenge.

He uses the chair while still sitting on it to roll down alllll the way across the room to the copier, refusing to get up.  Seeing him going through these lengths?  It’s clever.  Through a confident smile, she knows she’ll eventually break him down.

After Jim waves to a passing coworker, he sighs through his lips, clearly thinking about something.

Jim quickly became the heart of Dunder Mifflin Stamford.  Ironically, his skills in sales are a hindrance, despite the commission.  More customers are coming to him for their needs, meaning more work he has to catch up on by the evening, meaning less time for Pam, the reason why he’s still there, to begin with.  He’s too damn tired by the time he gets home for cell phone or Skype conversations and they still don’t wanna use company property while he’s in Stamford.  There’re weekends and even the Fourth of July, yet that’s still not enough.

It’ll show up, Beesly, it will.

Karen turns back to her computer as soon as she notices his shift in mood.  She’s very perceptive, which is one of her strengths as a sales rep.

“I noticed Jim’s been working late,” she admits to the crew, “I have an idea… but I don’t know how to approach it yet,” she nods, “I’ll figure that out once I get my chair back,” her smirk as confident as ever.  She has a plan that could kill two birds with one stone, though it might come off the wrong way or affect his paycheck.  If it works out, however, it’ll be a surefire win/win.

All she hopes is that the girl from out of state realizes how lucky she is.  You have no idea, Karen.

Jim’s not giving up the chair.

Michael is on the phone, greeting a friend named Brent Koselli.  He does a bunch of Bill Cosby impressions.

Pam logs it.

“Do you know where we are, temp?”  Ryan’s training has begun.  Dwight will be his guide.

“I know where we’re not.”  Ryan hasn’t so much as picked up a shovel, yet he feels like he’s done a full day’s work on the farm.

Dwight begins, “I hold in my hand, a beet seed,” he has his palm open, showing off the precious seed, “Take it.”  Ryan tries to— “Ah!”  Dwight closes his hand.  The first lesson has begun.  “When—” Ryan just manages to take it.  “…Damn it.”

Dwight sulks through the beet field to finish his first lesson.  Ryan, well, he just hopes he’ll learn something.

Andy gets up out of his chair, “Hey, Big Tuna,” he asks Jim, “can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure.”

“Can you stand up? …And, talk to me over there?”

Damn it all, Andy, “That’s it?” Karen criticizes, “That’s what you came up with?”

Andy’s insulted, “I’m acting my heart out here.”
“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

“Huh.”

“You asked for my help, so… I helped.”

Jim’s not giving up the chair.

Michael Scott is a person Stanley Hudson does not respect.  The things Michael says, his actions, his methods, and style.  Everything he would do, Stanley would do it the opposite way.  He has known Michael a very long time, and the more he’s gotten to know him, the less he’s come to respect him.

But there’s one day, one blessed day where the two can set aside their differences.  For this day is a day of brotherhood, of friendship, of love, of long lasting peace and goodwill.  A day that blows even holidays like Halloween or Christmas out of the water.  It doesn’t have to be centuries old, steeped in a myriad of traditions, history, and folklore to be a true holiday.  Yet it will stand the test of time.  The Scranton Business Park speakers declare it:

~“Attention Scranton Business Park: there will be complimentary pretzels in the lobby from now until 4:00 as a thank you to our loyal tenants.”~

It is Pretzel Day once again.

Michael and Stanley walk off, and Pam logs it.

“Once a year they bring in a little cart and they give away free pretzels,” she informs the crew, “It’s really not a big deal. …To some people it is.”

Michael discusses to the cameras his reasoning why these coveted pretzels are the keys to success.  “Productivity is important, but how can I be productive if I have this one little thing in my brain… that I cannot get out?  And that one little thing is a soft pretzel.  So I’m just going to have my soft pretzel, then I’ll get to work, and I’ll be super productive.  Lllook out for me!”

And the line’s like 25 people.

This is Pretzel Day, however.  Traditions must be upheld, no matter how long it takes.

“And just as you have planted your seed in the ground,” Dwight continues as Ryan plants the beet seed in the manure, “I’m going to plant my seed in you.”

Ryan’s rightfully put off by that phrasing, “I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”

Dwight uses the manure to emphasize something important, “It’s called bull crap, and a client can smell it from a mile away.”  Not a bad takeaway, if you think about it.

Ryan has now planted the seed.  He has passed the first test.

Dwight suddenly remembers he forgot something in his car… and drives off, leaving Ryan in the middle of the beet field.

Ryan reflects on this event to the camera, “You know, every time I think I hit rock bottom at my job, the floor opens up, like at a carnival ride.”  The phrase ‘carnival ride’ is the aptest description of Dunder Mifflin Scranton there is.  “I’m gonna retrace my steps: college, four-year degree, student loans, business school, alone in a beet field.  I— there’s a step missing.”  Indeed there is.  “‘Hey, mom.’  ‘Hey, Ryan.  How’s that five–year plan coming?’  ‘Oh, it’s great.  Today, I knelt down in cow manure and I got abandoned in a beet field.’  ‘Oh, that’s cool.’  ‘Yeah, that’s really cool.  I’m learning a lot.  I’m really glad I took this full-time job.’”

For all of Ryan’s faults, this reaction is justified.

Stanley expresses why Pretzel Day is the best day of the year, “I wake up every morning in a bed that’s too small, drive my daughter to a school that’s too expensive, and then I go to work to a job for which I get paid too little, but on Pretzel Day?  Well, I like Pretzel Day.”  Don’t we all, Stanley, don’t we all?

As he and Michael stand in line (enduring the onslaught of Kelly’s incessant chatting about cupcakes and Narnia), the two men witness Phyllis greets her fiancé Bob Vance (of Vance Refrigeration fame) as he’s ahead in line.  A big mistake.

“Hey, hey, hey!  Phyllis!” Michael signals, “What’re you doing?”

She’s puzzled.  The poor thing doesn’t understand.  “I’m just saying hi to Bob.”

“No, I think you’re cutting in line.”

“Well settle down, Scott,” Bob advises, willingly ignorant.

He and Stanley shame Phyllis with righteous indignation:
“No, I’m not going to settle down.”
“Uh-Uh-Uh.  No way.  Uh-uh.”
“Get in the back please.”
“Boooooo.”
“Boooooo!”
“Boooo.  Back of the line.”

“Thank you,” Michael finishes.  They high-five in solidarity: true justice has been served.  “That’s right.”

“What a pair of Marys.”  Bob continues to be willingly ignorant.

Stanley drives the point home, “This is Pretzel Day.”  Preach!

“‘Hey Dwight, you’re a great salesman.  Can you teach me?’  ‘Sure, Ryan.  I’ll make you the ole commodore.  I’ll abandon you in a beet field.’  ‘Huh.  That sounds great, Dwight, I’ll really appreciate that.  Thank you so much for your mentorship.’”  Ryan’s reaction is still justified.

With Ryan passing the second challenge, Dwight welcomes him to Schrute Farm!

He walked the long trek to the Farm.  He has passed the second test.

Karen, desperate to win this challenge, keeps the *sqeeeeeak* of her chair going to get to Jim.  He does have an ace up his sleeve, brought to him by The Cardigans.

“Love me, love me, say that you love me”

“Fool me, fool me,”
“Stop.”
“go on, and fool me”

“Love me, love me, say that you love me”
“This is not fair,”
“Fool me, fool me,”
“this is going to be in my head all day.  Please.”
“go on, and fool me”

“Love me, Love me, say that”
“This is not a proportionate response.”
“you love me”

“Fool me, fool me, go on, and fool me—”

And Andy caps it off to the crew:
“I don’t care ’bout anything but youuu” he smiles, pleased with himself, “Whatever happened to those guys?”

Jim’s not giving up the chair.

Pam gets out of the elevator to greet a certain participant of Pretzel Day, “Michael—”

“No cuts!”  He turns to see who it is, “Oh, Pam.  Just the woman I’d like to see, you read my mind!”

Finally, productivity!  “Great!  I thought you could use this time to authorize some checks.”

“I thought that maybe you could wait in line for me while I go to the bathroom?”  Is this real life?  “You’re an angel.”

“Hey, why don’t you just go up to your office, get some work done, and I’ll just bring you a pretzel?”

Poor Pam doesn’t understand Pretzel Day, either.  “Because I like them a certain way, and if it gets screwed up, then— whole thing is blown.”  Precisely.

“You know, I just think it’s really important that you be productive today.”  PLEASE.

“Pam, productivity starts with patience and determination.”  The pillars of Pretzel Day.  “I’ll beh bahck.”  Don’t be upset, Pam, for you’re assisting one who needs help on this Pretzel Day, an act of goodwill.

Cut back to her desk.

HOURLY WORK LOG
7:00 AM
8:00 AM
9:00 AM
10:00 AM — Cosby Impression
11:00 AM
12:00 PM — Stood in Pretzel Line
1:00 PM

Screw it, I’m leaving him a message.  Hopefully, he’ll be up for it.

“It is time for your next test,” Dwight announces, “You have planted the beet seed.  You have walked the long lonely walk of loneliness.”

“Look man, I was in a frat in college,” Ryan criticizes, just done with this rodeo show, “So I know what you’re doing.  I get it.”

“You know what your problem is?” Dwight confronts him, “You know why you haven’t made any sales?  ’Cause, you think you know everything.  You have to trust that maybe there are other people that can teach you things.”

And this, this right here, is Dwight’s secret to the success he’s earned, and they are two qualities: he demonstrates both the confidence to speak and the willingness to listen.  These are the qualities that Ryan needs to learn to be a successful sales representative, for if he doesn’t demonstrate either of these, he won’t go anywhere.

There’s a reason Dwight Kurt Schrute is the backbone of Dunder Mifflin Scranton, and these qualities are why.

Ryan can surely learn and demonstrate these themselves he really can.  As long as he puts in the effort.

“Are you ready to learn?” Dwight pushes, “Are you ready for the final test?”

Ryan, though hesitant, lets Dwight’s words sink in, “Yeah.”

“Come on!”  A giddy Dwight walks into the farm, preparing the final test.  Ryan joins him, still hesitant.

It is now Michael’s turn to be delivered the holy offering that this whole day is based around: the one, the only, The Pretzel.

“Hi.  Please tell me that you have a sweet pretzel left,” Michael asks.

“We do,” the vendor says.

“Thank God.”  Indeed, Michael, for you have been awarded for your patience.

“And we have 18 different toppings.”  The vendor lists them to Michael, who must now choose, and choose wisely.

“Is there any way that you could do… al-all of them?”

“The Works, you got it.”

“All right!  Thank you!”  He has chosen wisely.

Now that Michael has the reason for the season, he and Stanley partake of them in his office.  “What makes them so good?” he asks.

“I do not know,” Stanley answers.  It remains a mystery.

“I mean, they’re just dough twisted up with some candy,” Michael points out, “They taste so good in my mouth.”

“That’s what she said!”  The apathetic salesman and the bumbling boss share a laugh.

Yes, this has truly been a blessed Pretzel Day.

While the manager and the salesman enjoy pretzels in the office, it gives Pam some time down at the stairwell.

“Hey, it’s me.  I know you can’t answer right now but I’d really like us to do a Skype call tonight,” she sighs, “I understand if you’re not up for it, trust me, it’s just this whole long-distance thing seems to be getting more and more intense, and I just miss you.  And I know you miss me, too.  Oh and, don’t worry about the letter, just— take your time.”  A heavy sigh.  “I love you, Jim.  Bye.”

Managing to keep herself composed, she walks back upstairs, anticipating what the hell she has to log next.

“Please be seated,” Dwight gestures to an unenthused Ryan.  Suddenly—

“Who was that?”

“Pay no attention to the spirits that haunt this hallowed ground!”

“Is that your Cousin Mose?”

“…Yes.”

Ah, Mose Schrute.  Dwight’s first cousin and best friend; if things go well with Ryan, though, Dwight will have a new best friend.

Now Ryan is put to the test.

Question #1: What is the greatest danger facing Dunder Mifflin?
“Outsourcing and consolidation of competition.”

“Wrong.  Flash floods.”

Question #2: What is the true cause of Robert Mifflin’s suicide?
“Depression?”

“Wrong, he hated himself.”

Question #3: What is the DHARMA initiative?

Yeah, Dwight’s point about “others teaching you things” is difficult to take seriously when he is that teacher.

Kelly worries about Ryan’s safety (any rational person would), but Angela reassures Kelly while she stands by her man: Ryan is safe with Dwight.

“I don’t know,” Kelly argues, “Dwight’s so weird.”

“He’s not weird,” Angela points out, “he’s just… individualistic.”  Sure.

“No, he’s a freak,” Kelly says.

“You’re a freak!”  She storms off.

FINAL Question: What is Michael Scott’s greatest fear?
“Um, loneliness.  Maybe women.”

“Wrong.  He’s not afraid of anything.  Also, I would have accepted snakes.  Fear is what it’s all about.  You cannot sell while undergoing fear.  You need to VANQUISH fear!”  Again, not a bad takeaway if you really think about it.

Just because Dwight has a point doesn’t mean his methods are sensible.

When Ryan is asked to physically wrestle ‘Fear’ to the ground (portrayed by Mose), this is when he’s finally just done with the whole thing and walks out of the barn.  He has not passed the final test.

Ryan is both lost and frustrated.  A whole day, wasted.  This had nothing to do with sales calls, nothing to do with sales in general, and worst of all, he had to walk from a beet field to a barn.  Then it hits him: Dwight, this guy, this freak, is the best salesman of the company?  That goes to show that Dwight can’t change, he doesn’t need to change, the company does.  Now he’s getting a better idea of how this system works.

Mose thinks Ryan seemed nice.

As for Dwight, at the end of the day, all he wants is a team.

Karen and Jim call a truce.  Andy now has the squeaky chair.  He is not.  Happy.

With that out of the way, Karen can offer Jim something he needs and provide herself with a challenge, “Hey, Halpert.”

“Hm?” he turns halfway to face her.

“You got a sec?”

“I have approximately… three minutes before a client calls back.”

“Great.” Despite her confident smile, she’s shaking on the inside.

Jim’s not giving up the chair.

On the way back to work, Dwight — remorseful for his behavior — explains himself to Ryan, “It’s just Jim and I didn’t get along, and… I didn’t want it to be that way again.  Y’know, I wanted us to be a team.  An unstoppable team that competed against other teams.”
“Look, that, that’s not what I wanted, okay, I just wanted to… go on a sales call.”

And Ryan’s right.  He neither wants to be on any team nor can he be forced into one.  What Dwight doesn’t realize is that his dream team won’t be with Ryan.  It won’t be with Jim, either.  It’ll be with another junior salesman.  One who both speaks confidently and is willing to listen.  (As long as you don’t make him walk five miles to a barn.)

And then it hits Dwight: there was an actual sales call after the training.  Well done, Dwight.

‘Rock And Roll Part 2’ by Gary Glitter plays in Michael’s office.  Loudly.  (Kevin is the only one who sings along.)

And then Michael calls Mr. Koseli again.  More Cosby.

Pam logs it.

Dwight gives Ryan a crash course in what he’ll do during the rushed ride to the sales call, “Establish time frames.  Keep the phrase “real dollars” in their head.  And always keep the power in the conversation.  That’s why you’re losing them on the cold calls, ’cause you say the word please too much!”  Again, confidence.

“Wait, can you go back?”
“Michael always said, K.I.S.S., ‘Keep it Simple, Stupid.’  Great advice, hurts my feelings every time.”  He gets over it quickly, part of his D.N.A.

Now, Ryan’s ready.  He’s prepared.  He’s going to put in the effort.

Michael dances out of his office, the sugar in him rushing to help the office run more smoothly.  Pam notices, and everyone else can notice the caramel stain on his suit.  (It’s Pretzel Day, it’s worth it.)  Michael’s suggestions include: streamlining efficiency, accountability, reorganizing the room.  That’s about it.

Michael ends with this: “I think we’re getting a lot done, don’t you?  On paper, at least, and we are, after all, a paper company.  Are we not, are we not, are we not?  Are you with me, are you with me?  Thankyouverymuch!”

Pam logs it.

Ryan walks out, dejected, “They really didn’t like me.”

“They did not,” Dwight agrees vehemently, “They didn’t have to say it to your face.”  Oof.