Facing another morning at the office was much less stressful than Jim had anticipated. He wasn't in a great mood, but he felt like a weight had been lifted off him as he nodded to Earl in the lobby before taking the elevator up to the Dunder Mifflin offices. He gave Pam a smile and a nod on his way in. Dealing with Michael and Dwight would be more annoying than usual, but he could do it. He had made his decision. He was going to quit.
Karen had discussed things with him more after the movie, and while she seemed to be taken off guard by Jim's sudden decision, she hadn't said anything to convince Jim otherwise. She told him she thought he was being a little rash, but then Jim remembered her telling him more than once in the past that he didn't take his job seriously enough. He knew she meant that he should think about moving up in the Dunder Mifflin corporate chain, but Jim preferred making a fresh start. David Wallace now had a negative opinion of him, anyway. And who wanted to sell paper their whole lives? Nobody, that's who.
“You're looking chipper,” said Dwight.
Jim chose to ignore his desk mate as he sat down and turned on the computer. Even the prospect of working on spreadsheets and making sales calls didn't bore him the way it used to. He wasn't excited about it, but he knew he didn't have to worry about it much either. Maybe he would be even lazier than usual today. As he thought about it, Jim decided it was better to get his business with Michael out of the way before he actually started any work. He got back up from his chair almost as soon as he had sat down and knocked on Michael's door.
“Come in.”
Jim entered, and Michael gave him a nervous look as he sat down.
“I have to talk to you, Michael.”
“What about?”
“I'm giving you my two week's notice.”
Michael sat still for a moment, processing Jim's words. His face was blank, at first, and then for a moment his mouth curled into a smile, then a snigger of amusement. Michael's laughter got no reaction, however, and his snigger soon faded as he realized Jim was being totally serious.
“Wha – why? Why would you quit?”
“Seriously, Michael? Do I have to explain it?”
“Come on, Jim, you're being ridiculous. Quitting your job just because I got you in a little trouble with David? It's not that big a deal, man!”
“It's a big deal to me, Michael.”
“Well, if it's such a big deal, I'm sorry, okay?”
Jim paused, caught a little off guard by Michael's apology. He had not come in expecting one so quickly, and he was forced to ask himself if it was enough. It didn't seem very sincere. Even an insincere apology from Michael was better than nothing, but it didn't really solve the problem either.
“Are you going to tell David Wallace the truth?”
“You know I can't do that, Jim. My job would be on the line. So would Jan's.”
“You don't even have to tell him anything about you and Jan, you know. You can just say it was your fault, that you were messing around at your condo and ended up late to the meeting, or that you got the time wrong. It's that simple. Why you messed up is not really the point – the point is that you messed up and blamed me for it.”
“I'm sorry, okay?”
“Sorry doesn't cut it, Michael. You're sorry, but you're still not willing to take the blame?”
“John Schneider was a big client. I know, it was stupid, I just – I messed up, but I'm not supposed to mess up, you know? You're just a grunt, Jim, you can do anything you want, but I'm the manager. The little fishes swim in the sharks mouth, but the big fishes get eaten, right? You understand what I'm saying, Jim?”
“You're talking about fish.”
“But the fishes are us!”
Jim resisted the urge to toy with Michael. That wasn't why he had come in.
“Look, David trusted me to manage this Scranton and Stamford merger, and then there was that whole thing with the fat guy and the black guy, and Andy with the hole in the wall, and if David thinks it's my fault I lost a big client he's not gonna be happy! What if he hires Josh Porter and makes him take my job?”
“Josh works at Staples now.. What are you talking about?”
“You never know! Who knows, maybe David would fire me and put Toby in my place. You and I both know Toby's been gunning after my job for a while, Jim, and this would be the perfect opportunity.”
Jim rubbed his temples as Michael blathered on. It was hard to tell whether his boss was genuinely concerned about losing his job in the event that David thought he was to blame, or if he was just rambling in order to avoid acknowledging the truth in what Jim said, or a little of both. But it was clear that he did not want to accept the consequences of his actions.
“Look, Michael, enough. I'm giving you my two week's notice, today.”
“You can't give me two weeks notice if I fire you!”
Jim stared at Michael, who briefly smacked the table in triumph, but then seemed to reconsider his idea.
“Really?” asked Jim. “After Tony Gardner, you're going to try that again?”
“No, look, I just blurted it out. I was just upset. Come on, Jim, we're like a family here, we're best friends – why do you want to leave? Is it something I said?”
“Oh my God!”
Jim thought about telling Michael that best friends didn't do what he did, and that coworkers and bosses were not a family in any sense of the word, but he knew it was a waste of time. Anything he said would go right over Michael's head. And strangely enough, as angry as Michael made him, as impossible as it was to talk to him, Jim still felt some kind of sympathy for his boss. He knew the man considered him to be his best friend, even though Dwight was around Michael more often, and he knew that Michael saw his workers as his family. Even now, Jim couldn't bring himself to tear that idea down in front of Michael.
“I'm going back to work,” said Jim.
He got up and left Michael's office, leaving his boss sitting stone-faced in his desk chair for the second time in as many days. As he sat down at his own desk, both Karen and Pam gave him glances. While he hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to Pam about what was going on, he knew that Karen was ambivalent at best towards his decision. Despite her worries, he had told he last night that he would be giving Michael his two week's notice this morning. And Jim couldn't help but feel a certain pride at actually following through. It was going to happen. Soon, Jim Halpert would never sell another piece of paper again. Unless he got a job at a different paper company. But he'd try to avoid that.
The rhythmic clicking of a staple remover coming from across his desk brought Jim's attention to Dwight, who was swiveling slowly in his chair and sitting back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “You must have really gotten in trouble yesterday, huh? What did David Wallace do to you, Jim?”
Jim rolled his eyes. “You do know that I know you and Michael lied about me, right?”
“Of course I know you know... I know that – yes. Yes, I know.”
“You don't feel guilty about that at all?”
Jim knew it was a stupid question, but he couldn't resist.
“No, I do not feel guilty, Jim.”
“It was over the line.”
“False. It was right on the line, the line that you drew with all your pranks and lack of respect towards me. This is just tit for tit, Jim. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.”
“That's not what that expression means.”
Dwight narrowed his eyes and clicked his staple remover more viciously.
“It's a shame David Wallace didn't fire you. I totally thought he was going to do it. Are you sure he didn't?”
“If you want me gone, Dwight, you don't have to worry about that.”
Jim noticed Phyllis perking her head up from behind Dwight as she caught the ending of the conversation. Dwight himself looked a little confused by Jim's comment, but before he could say anything, the door to Michael's office swung open and Michael stepped out, clearing his throat loudly to get everyone's attention.
“Excuse me,” he said. “Excuse me, everyone. I have a very important announcement to make. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding that a certain someone has taken waaay out of proportion, Jim Halpert will be quitting his job and leaving his extended family here at Dunder-Mifflin behind, without so much as a second thought. I just thought you guys should all know that, because it's not just Jim's business, it's everybody's business.”
A murmur went up around the office.
“What do you mean?” asked Phyllis. “What unfortunate misunderstanding?”
“Yes, Michael,” said Jim, “do you want to tell them?”
“That's no one's business, Jim. Just quit being such a baby!”
Michael's voice broke a little on the 'word' baby, and he ducked back into his office as if trying to avoid having anyone see him cry. After his bizarre outburst, Jim wouldn't be surprised if he spent the next several hours alone in his office. He got the impression that Michael was feeling guilty, but it didn't bother him; Michael should feel guilty. It was just ironic that he was trying to hide it by doing something as childish as calling Jim a baby.
Dwight gave Jim a strange expression. “You're quitting?” he blurted out, before resuming his normal taciturn look.
Phyllis seemed to share his surprise. “Jim,” she said, “what happened with Michael?”
“It really doesn't matter. I'm sorry, but I'd like to do a little work right now.”
Karen watched as her boyfriend focused on his computer. Jim was sometimes unwilling to put the blame where the blame was due, but Karen had no problem telling everyone what happened. She didn't share Jim's sympathy for his boss. Maybe it was just her lack of familiarity with Michael Scott, but she got the feeling personality was a part of it too. Jim was definitely more passive than she was.
“Micheal lied about Jim to David Wallace and blamed him for something he didn't do,” said Karen.
Kelly Kapoor, who was standing farther back at the other end of the office, gasped theatrically in surprise. A couple other employees around the room looked surprised, but most everyone else nodded, as if they had just been told the blatantly obvious. Their reactions confirmed Karen's suspicions: Jim's Scranton coworkers, most of whom had been around Michael as long or longer than Jim had been, were not surprised at anything Michael did anymore.
“You don't mind me blabbing it to everyone, do you?” she asked Jim.
Jim smiled, glancing up at his computer.
“Just as long as you field all the questions.”
Karen stuck her tongue out as Jim returned to his work.
.....
Through the open blinds of his office window, Michael watched as Jim Halpert typed away at his computer. He could also see Dwight and Pam at their desks. Soon after Jim had given Michael his two week's notice and returned to the main room, Michael had overheard some muttered conversation from his workers and gotten what seemed like a dirty look from Pam. And not the good kind of dirty look, either. Jim had not glanced in the direction of his office, but Michael had a sneaking suspicion that Jim was very deliberately holding himself back from shooting dirty looks Michael's way. Why wouldn't he, after all?
Clearly he hates me now, thought Michael. I do one little thing and they all turn against me.
Minutes passed in silence. Michael decided the whole incident had put him in such a bad mood that there was no way he'd get any work done that day. He gave his Hawaiian-themed screen saver a melancholy sigh and got up from his desk chair, walking up to his window and peering at his coworkers through the blinds to see if they were talking about him.
Most of them seemed to be busy; whatever Jim had said when he left Michael's office earlier had not caused the mutiny that Michael had been briefly anticipating. The office was thrumming along at its normal level of relaxing monotony. Michael watched as Ryan photocopied a few papers, and while he glanced up from his photocopying for a moment, it didn't look like he caught Michael's friendly nod and wave. Ryan often seemed to have a hard time catching Michael's greetings for some reason. Dwight noticed him peering through the blinds, however, and gave him an officious nod. Dwight could be a real suck up sometimes. But then, Michael figured there was a fine line between loyalty and suckuppery.
Returning to his desk, Michael was about to consider surfing the net for funny internet videos when Dwight opened the door and strode inside his office, not even bothering to knock or ask permission. “Hello Michael,” he said. “You looked a little concerned when you were staring out the window at everyone.”
“No, Dwight, I'm not concerned. Not at all. Just anxious. Troubled, you could say.”
“Why is that?”
“Jim,” said Michael matter-of-factly. He found himself unable to go into more detail, as his feelings on the subject were proving to be a little too complicated for him to handle. The more he tried to think about it, the more he wanted to find a distraction from his troubled feelings. If only it was pretzel day.
“You did the right thing, Michael,” said Dwight. “It was Jim or you, and Jim got off easy. And hey, now that Jim is going to leave, I'll be able to handle all of his clients! Maybe I can even take Andy's clients once he fails his anger management classes.”
“You don't know he's going to fail, Dwight.”
“The man is a volcano of rage pent up inside a spoiled ivy league pretty boy exterior, Michael. He's probably just learning how to hide it better in anger management. Coming from his rich background and dealing with the hard-knock life of an office worker must be hell for him. He'll come back, probably murder a client in a fury – unless you fire him first like you did with Jim!”
“I didn't fire Jim, Dwight,” snapped Michael.
“Right, right, sorry. I mean, if you make him quit. Then I can handle the work of three men, which is not a problem for me at all. I could probably handle four or five men, depending on their sizes. That's really the best solution for the office, don't you think?”
“What are you doing, Dwight? Is this some kind of power thing? You know I'll just have to hire new salesmen if Andy and Jim are gone. Andy has nothing to do with this anyway.”
Dwight's eye twitched involuntarily. He had come in to see how Michael was doing, but he had also wanted to try and see if he could kill two birds with one stone and get Michael to remove Andy as a threat. Unfortunately, Dwight hadn't exactly planned his approach before he actually walked through Michael's office door. And no matter what he did, he couldn't remove Stanley and Phyllis – Stanley was too beloved by Michael, and while no one else in the office seemed to notice it, Dwight recognized a certain Machiavellian edge in Phyllis that he was hesitant to bring down on himself. For now, he would have to settle for just being there for Michael in his time of need.
“Don't worry about Jim,” said Dwight as passed around Michael's desk and took a position behind his seat. “He won't do anything to get us in trouble. It's not like telling David that he put my planner in jello was that much of a lie, anyway. He does things like that all the time.”
Dwight placed his hands on Michael's shoulders and began to squeeze, eliciting a yelp from Michael as he craned his neck around to see what Dwight was doing. “Stop that!” he said.
“I'm just giving you a back massage, Michael. Relax.”
Michael grumbled before settling back into his chair. Dwight kneaded slowly, and Michael had to admit that even in his worst moods, it was hard to resist one of Dwight's massages. He was just about to settle down and enjoy it when his office door opened yet again. This time, Pam and Phyllis walked in.
“Michael,” said Pam as she closed the door behind her, “Jim's quitting because of what you did. You're not even going to apologize?”
“Take a chill pill, Pamster. I tried to apologize, but Jim's being immature about it. There's nothing I can do.”
“You could tell the truth,” said Phyllis.
Dwight shook his head condescendingly at his coworkers. “Oh, you two,” he said with a laugh, “so naïve and idealistic. Michael's the boss. The head honcho, the captain of us all in this office ship.”
Pam crossed her arms and blinked several times.
“What?”
“Michael has to call the shots, Pam. He has to make the hard decisions, and sometimes he has to take one of the weaker crew members and throw them to the sharks in order to save himself. How do you think he got to where he is now?”
“Hard work and good salesmanship,” answered Michael.
“Yes, but also unbending ruthlessness. Pam, Phyllis, that's business. It's not personal, it's the law of the jungle. We're in a paper jungle, and Michael is a paper tiger.”
While Dwight droned on, Michael couldn't help but frown at his hodge podge of analogies and explanations for why the two of them did what they did. Dwight was hard to follow at times, but Michael knew he didn't agree with his view of business. He thought about objecting, but Dwight was defending him against his hostile employees, who seemed to be siding with Jim even though Michael still thought he was being ridiculous. A slap on the hand from David was not a big deal. Michael could have gotten fired.
Dwight had stopped massaging him as he explained Michael's need to tell David it was Jim's fault, and Michael felt his stress returning as Pam and Phyllis gave Dwight increasingly confused looks. The next person to come through the door did not help matters.
“Michael,” said Toby as he walked in, “Jim just told me he's planning to quit, and he told me what you did. You're really going to let him-”
“Jim wants to leave his family, just like you wanted to leave yours.”
Toby fell momentarily silent, his stoic face holding no reaction to Michael's attack.
“I think we should talk about this, Michael.”
“I think you should go back to your cubicle and do whatever weird things you do back there in the Annex, Toby. Talk to Kelly or something.”
“But I-”
Michael groaned, massaging his forehead. Dwight stood behind him, resuming his shoulder massage and giving Michael's office interlopers a head shake dripping with disapproval. “Haven't you all bothered him enough?” he asked.
“Yes, please, leave me alone. I have important work to do. Pam, hold all my calls for me.”
“Even if it's Jan?”
“Let Jan through. Unless it's work related.”
Michael sat with his head lowered, trying to make it very clear that he was not interested in any more conversation. He risked a glance up as he heard the door opening; Toby and Phyllis were out the door, but just before Pam left, she looked back and gave him a quick glance. Although she didn't say anything, her silent look was worse than anything Michael's employees had said to him all day. It was like she was condemning him.
Condemning him for a crime he didn't commit.
Sort of.
.....
“So how are things hanging with Gil?” asked Kevin.
“Yes, how are things with him?”
Oscar shot back an amused look at Angela as he led his two fellow accountants on the way to the kitchen. “You don't have to pretend you're also interested in my relationship with Gil just to humor me, Angela.”
“Okay, good, that was awkward. But don't mind me, you two can talk about men all you want.”
Kevin tittered at Angela's comment, and Oscar rolled his eyes as they entered the kitchen. Kevin's question had come out of left field, but Oscar had a good idea that his friend was asking because he had come into the office in a bit of a foul mood that morning. And it was, in fact, because of a little fight with Gil last night. Kevin could be surprisingly perceptive sometimes, although the 'sometimes' got a special emphasis in Oscar's mind.
Despite his constant childishness about Oscar's orientation, Kevin was his friend, and he was touched to know he was concerned. Even the way Angela feebly seconded Kevin's question was touching in its own way; Oscar knew she was making an effort, and she would sometimes throw out little attempts to show she was tolerant ever since Oscar had returned from his vacation. Angela was not the kind of person he would have ever chosen to know outside of work, but it was strange how you could grow to have a certain unspoken affection with someone if you were forced to be around them long enough.
“My relationship with Gil,” said Oscar, thinking about how to answer Kevin's question. “It's, uh, going.”
“Going?”
“I don't know,” said Oscar as he opened the refrigerator. “He can be difficult sometimes, but he can be great sometimes too. It's complicated.”
Oscar had to admit that he wasn't really interested in talking about Gil during his lunch break. His relationship definitely had its ups and downs, but sometimes Gil could really get on his nerves, last night being a prime example. He could barely even remember what they had been arguing about; something trivial, probably, but Gil could be insufferably opinionated about things. Oscar would go so far as to say he was pretentious. His boyfriend had some good qualities – a biting sense of humor, intelligence, affection when he was in a good mood – but his holier-than-thou attitude got old.
Oscar never did have a lot of patience for pretentious people. Hard to relate to them, maybe. They were so different from him.
“Are those tiny burritos?” laughed Kevin.
Oscar unfolded his lunch from its plastic wrapping, leftovers from the previous night's dinner. “They're called flautas,” he said, a little indignantly, as he transferred them onto a folded paper towel which he placed in the kitchen microwave. “Or taquitos,” he added.
“Celebrating your heritage, huh Oscar?”
“It's not like I eat Mexican food every day, Kevin. Am I not allowed to eat Mexican food just because of my heritage? I have to avoid it now or else I'm a walking stereotype, is that it?”
Kevin gave the question some serious thought before his creased brow and pursed mouth went away, changing into a smile as he slapped his friend on the back. “Of course not, dude. You can enjoy tiny burritos whenever you want. Can I have one?”
“As soon as it's out of the microwave, sure.”
“Cool. I forgot to bring my lunch. Can I borrow a few dollars for the snack machine, too?”
Oscar sighed and fished a few bills out of his wallet as the microwave ticked down to zero. After a ding, he opened the door and laid the flautas out on two paper plates for the two of them. He would have to get a drink from the vending machine in the break room. Angela had already left for the break room, apparently too impatient to wait for Oscar to get his lunch ready. He looked down at the flautas on his plate as he and Kevin left the kitchen; he had been looking forward to eating them for lunch all day, but now that he looked at them, they definitely didn't look like they were the best food to reheat in the microwave. Oscar hated when something which was supposed to be firm and crispy ended up soggy and limp.
“Took you long enough,” said Angela as the two of them arrived at the break room.
Oscar sat down and ignored Angela's comment. Sometimes she seemed to say things just for the sake of having something to complain about. Kevin set down his plate beside them before peering intensely through the vending machine glass, trying to decide how he should spend Oscar's money.
Several other people were already in the break room: Kelly and Ryan, who seemed to be deep in some kind of conversation that came off as excited on Kelly's side and argumentative on Ryan's side; Meredith, who sat at a table with Creed, both of whom seemed to be about as vacant as they usually were; and Toby, who sat in a chair near the back, reading a book. Oscar didn't see Jim, Pam, or Karen. Pam had still been sitting at the receptionist's desk when he left the accounting area, and he was fairly sure that Jim and Karen were eating out for lunch. He had no idea where Dwight was, and didn't care either. Probably holed up with Michael in his office. As he began to eat, Oscar's thoughts turned to the big news of the day. Which was, of course, the news that Jim would be quitting.
It seemed that Oscar was not the only one thinking about Jim's decision, either.
“It's such a shame Jim is quitting,” said Kelly, her conversation with Ryan apparently having run its course. “I'm going to miss him sooo much! I mean, not as much as I'd miss you of course Ryan, not that you're quitting or anything, but I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea. I saw that look you just gave me.”
“I didn't give you a look,” said Ryan as he sipped on a soda. “And besides, Jim isn't quitting.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Oscar.
“I just don't buy it. Jim doesn't seem like someone who makes snap decisions. He eats that ham and cheese sandwich every day except when Karen drags him out to lunch. He got all whiny when Michael reorganized the office space that one time and made Jim switch with Stanley. Why would he decide to quit all of a sudden? He's put up with Michael for years.”
“He transferred to Stamford,” Oscar pointed out. “That's change.”
“That was just because he was broken-hearted over Pam,” said Kelly. Her boyfriend nodded in agreement. “He's not motivated by love this time! Only hate!”
Creed, who had been staring vacantly at the top of his table, looked up at his coworkers as he picked up on the conversation. “Wait a minute,” he said, “Jim's quitting? Let me guess, turning to farming full time?”
“That's Dwight,” said Oscar.
“Which one's Jim?”
“The one who's always playing pranks on Dwight with Pam.”
“Pranks? What? It's like you're speaking a foreign language, man!”
Creed shook his head at Oscar as if marveling at the ridiculousness of his explanation, and then returned to whatever thoughts had been absorbing his mind moments ago. Oscar blinked for a moment before returning to the conversation he had been having with the rest of his coworkers.
“So you think Jim's just venting?” he asked Ryan.
“Yup.”
Meredith stopped sipping at her cup for a moment. “All I know is I'm gonna miss looking at that boy's butt when he walks by my desk,” she said with a lecherous look.
Kelly made a gagging sound. “Gross, Meredith!”
Oscar smirked as he noticed Kelly give her boyfriend a glance to make sure he wasn't paying attention before nodding and winking at Meredith, apparently confirming her appraisal of Jim's rear end.
“What about you, Oscar?” asked Kevin, nudging Oscar on the arm.
“What about me?”
“You gonna miss Jim's butt?”
Kevin burst into a loud snigger, trying and failing to muffle it with his hands, and even Angela couldn't stop herself from smiling briefly before pulling herself back into her usual frosty demeanor. Oscar sighed and took another bite of his unsatisfying flauta; he would not dignify Kevin's comment with a response.
Not that Meredith and Kelly were wrong. Jim did have a nice butt, even if Oscar wasn't going to say that out loud. There was no doubt that Jim was good looking, and Oscar couldn't help but notice that from time to time, but the age difference was too much. Not to mention that their personalities wouldn't mesh; Jim was a joker, and while Oscar had a sense of humor, he thought Jim could be on the immature side sometimes. Not all that serious about his job, either. And he still lived in an apartment with a roommate, so he didn't seem to be settled down in his life yet.
Oscar definitely wouldn't be Jim's type, even if he was a decade or two younger, but it was obvious who was Jim's type. Pam Beesly. He wasn't aware of all the details about what had happened between Jim and Pam to cause his transfer to Stamford and the subsequent cancellation of her marriage to Roy, but something had obviously happened. Ryan had a point about Jim, after all. He didn't seem like an impulsive person, and his transfer to Stamford was strange enough to make it clear that there were problems in the world of Jim and Pam.
Sometimes, Oscar couldn't help but feel exasperated when he watched the two of them dancing around each other like there was nothing there. It was clear to him, and he knew it was clear to others in the office. He wished he could be so lucky as to find someone who was a great fit for him, but being a gay accountant in Scranton didn't do his romantic life any favors. Oscar had no idea if there even was a gay scene in Scranton. Not that he had the type of personality to be into the gay scene in the first place.
He remembered once, before Gil, he had been in a lonely and restless mood and visited a bar called the Log Cabin he had seen in downtown Scranton before, only to find out he was reading into the name way too much. It was just a regular bar. Pretty good margaritas, though. That was about as adventurous as Oscar got in terms of romance – he had met Gil by chance in a coffee shop when Gil had approached him on a whim, apparently taking a gamble after seeing Oscar reading an opera review in a magazine. As if enjoying opera made you gay, thought Oscar with a snort.
His relationship with Gil came after a long stretch of single life, and Oscar knew it wouldn't last forever. Gil was fine. He liked Gil. But he definitely didn't love him. Based on what he had seen between Jim and Pam, the way they hovered around each other in the office like orbiting planets about to be smashed together by the force of their gravity, Oscar couldn't figure know why they hadn't sealed the deal yet. They seemed to be extending their orbits now, ever since Stamford merged with Scranton. Jim with Karen, Pam with Roy. Again.
Somebody really needed to smack their heads together and wake them up.
.....
