I don't know where this is going. Who could handle this guy? But I thought I would share.
“I’m sorry, but we have to let you go.”
That was the story of Ryan Conway’s life. He just got settled in a job, in a relationship, in an apartment and they had to let him go. This time was just a different version of the same story. Okay, he might have dropped the old cartridge to the copy machine on the tiled floor of the copy room. Yes, the powdered ink inside had exploded on impact, covering everything, including the hallway carpet running next to the doorway.
He had made a valiant to clean it up. He had gotten the bucket and mop out of the janitor’s closet and filled it with hot water. Soon the mop, water and Ryan were black, dye staining practically the whole room. Then he took a rag and tried washing everything off. That hadn’t worked either. The dye not only stained, but it made a sort of paste and just kept sticking, coating the walls, floors, machinery, everything. Of course that was when the boss walked in.
Now Ryan stood in front of the boss’s desk, she wouldn’t let him sit on any of the chairs, and wondered what he was going to do now.
“Ryan, I tried to be understanding when you bumped Shelly’s glass of water frying her key board and shorting out her computer. We all felt bad when you caught your tie in the postage machine and I had to call maintenance to free you before you choked to death. But I’m not even sure how to clean up the mess you just made in the copy room. I’m sorry, but your time here is finished. Pack your stuff and leave.” Ryan could see she wouldn’t be swayed if he started begging, so he stood up and left. He decided he was glad he hadn’t pointed out that she had a mark of black ink on the end of her nose.
Packing up his personal belongings out of his cubicle didn’t take long. He had only been employed at the accounting firm two months. He had learned long ago never to bring much to a job, it never lasted long. Things went pretty smoothly as he packed. He only knocked over his soda can and spilled just a little. Five, six tissues took care of it. And then he carried his little box to his car which was parked under the huge shade tree and went home.
Walking into the two bedroom apartment, Ryan saw his roommate Eddie was on the couch in front of the television playing a video game.
“Hey, your home early,” Eddie greeted him. “Oh no, you lost another one. What is that on you? Crap Ryan, I don’t know how to get ink stains off of skin and clothes.”