Dunsmore, 1996

“Dad, you're not going to be too long in here, right? Roy is picking me up at 7,” Pam Beesly sighed as she and her father entered Halpert Hardware.

“Oh Pam, don't worry. I wouldn't want to keep dear Roy waiting. I just need to pick up the hardware your mother ordered for the cabinets and we'll be out of here. Anyways, you were the one who volunteered to drive me, so quit complaining.” Frank Beesly shook his head and purposefully marched up the isle.

“Well, I just want to get some more practise in before my test,” she called, rolling her eyes.

Pam meandered through stacks of nails, screws, gadgets and power tools. She stopped and looked with curiosity at a large clamp, winding the handle in and out. It was a perfect design. She loved the way the shiny inclined plane fit perfectly with the grooves it wrapped around. Maybe she would sketch it when she got home.

Pam set the clamp back on the shelf, turned to try and find her dad and walked right into a very large box that seemed to be floating in mid-air. She fell to the ground with a thump and saw that there were two very long legs attached to the box.

“Oh my god, are you ok?,” said the face that was attached to the legs.

“Um...yeah. You should really watch where you're going,” Pam said quietly.

“Here, let me help you up.” The tall, lanky boy pulled Pam up with ease and nervously tried to contain a smile.

“So...,” Pam squinted and looked at his name tag, “Jim, do you make a habit of knocking people over?”

“Uhhh...,” his voice cracked, “No, I...look, I'm really sorry. This place is usually dead this time of day and I was just unloading the truck and...” Jim snickered and covered his mouth with his hand. “I'm sorry, but man, you really flew there.”

“Yeah, thanks to you.” Pam said with a knitted brow and crossed arms. She tried to keep a straight face, but the whole situation was kind of funny. Seconds later they were both giggling uncontrollably.

“You should really take up boxing or something...get it, boxing?” Jim said mockingly.

“Ha ha. You are hilarious.”

Jim took a bow and with a flourish of his hands said, “Thank you.” He crept his hands in his pockets. “Umm...so, you know my name, but you don't have a name tag, so I don't know yours.”

Pam smiled and reached out her hand, “I'm--”

“Pam...let's go!”

“That's my dad. I gotta go.” She pulled her hand away, brushed past Jim and quickly left the store.

“Nice bumping into you,” Jim whispered with a lopsided smile as he stared at the door.

“Jim?!?! Where are those boxes?”

“Right here Uncle Pete.”

Jim picked up the boxes and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of the store.

As he rode the elevator to the second floor of Scranton Business Park, Jim noticed that his palms were sweating.

Seriously? Sweaty palms? Christ, what am I, twelve?

He wiped his hands against his pants, stretched his neck from side to side and took a deep breath. It was his first day on the job at Dunder Mifflin Paper Company and he felt really stupid being nervous.

Ok, this is not a Fortune 500 company here. This is small potatoes. Relax.

The elevator doors parted and he swiftly pushed open the glass doors of his new job. The room was eerily quiet, except for the ticking and humming of machines. He strode towards reception and waited for the girl behind the desk to get off the phone.

“Yes, ok, I will give him the message.” She set down the phone and turned her attention to Jim. “Hi, can I help you?” She said with a neutral expression.

“Um, yeah, hi, I'm Jim? I'm new here?”

“Oh. Oh yeah? Jim....Halpert. You're the guy Michael hired at that blitz at Chili's.”

“Yeah,” he said with a slight chuckle. “That was a very...interesting...interview process.”

The receptionist's face fell, “Oh my god, did he make you eat your weight in Awesome Blossom?”

A smile crept across Jim's face. “Well, actually, I'm allergic to onions, so...”

“Are you really?”

“Ummm...no.”

“Nice,” she said with a nod and a smile. “I'm Pam, by the way, Pam Bees--”

A high falsetto voice emerged from an office behind Jim.

“Pam's milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and they're like it's better than yours--”

“Michael--,” Pam huffed with a sigh.

“Damn right it's better than yours--”

Jim stuck out his hand hoping to somehow stop the horror that was occuring in front of him.

“Hi, Mr. Scott? Jim Halpert.”

“Ahhh...yes...Jim Boy...onion allergy. I remember. But seriously man, call me Michael...or Mike...just don't call me Shirley,” he said, beaming while vigorously shaking Jim's hand. “Ah ha! Get it? Don't call me Shirley? Naked Gun. Hi-larious.”

Jim gave Michael a puzzled look. Michael cleared his throat and gleefully exclaimed, “Soooo... how would you like the Official Michael Scott Dunder Mifflin Tour Extravaganza?!”

“Um...sure.”

“All right. All aboard!!!” Michael clamped an arm around Jim's shoulder. “So...you've met the Office Hottie, Pam, who as you can tell has some pre-tty nice milkshakes. So, follow me, my friend, as I introduce you to the rest of the Dunder Mifflin family.”

Jim slowly turned to Pam with mock fear and a lopsided grin as Michael dragged him away from reception.

Pam remained standing at behind her desk with a whisper of a smirk on her lips.

“He seems nice,” she said outloud without realizing it.

Angela, who had been watching the whole scene from behind her partition, said with a sneer, “Who are you talking to?”

“What?” Pam turned and blushed. “Uh, nobody. I'm just...umm...I think I have some faxes to get out.”

“Uh huh.” Angela returned to her desk just as Michael roared, “That's what she said!!” from across the room.