Professional Winter of Discontent

       “Hey, man, what day is it?” Adam asked, calling from his cubicle to the one directly across the aisle.
       “March 15th,” answered his co-worker and friend Brian, after consulting the Dilbert Page-A-Day calendar sitting on his desk.
        “Damn. When was the last day we had off?”
        “New Year’s Day.”
        “And when’s our next paid holiday?”
        “Not till Memorial Day.”
        “Damn. That’s a long time.”
        “Tell me about it.”
       After taking a moment to ponder, Adam queried: “Didn’t we used to have a day off in between New Year’s and Memorial Day?”
        “We did,” Brian stated matter-of-factly, “but the bosses couldn’t decide if they should give us Martin Luther King Jr. Day off or Presidents Day off, so they just decided to give us no days off.”
       Adam sighed. “So we’ve got over two more months to go?”
        “Afraid so.”
        “Cripes,” Adam sulked. He loosened his tie as he reclined on his thinly padded work chair, the back almost hitting the rough fabric covering the cubicle walls. “I don’t know if I can hold out until then, and I’m all out of vacation and sick time until the new cycle begins in June.”
        “Same here,” said Brian, as he rolled up his sleeves and stretched out as far as he could without his legs catching onto the cords for his computer and phone line.
        “This is why we attended college and worked our butts off for four years, to sit here withering under these putrid fluorescent lights, going blind staring at a computer screen, going deaf from the sound of synchronized keyboard tapping…”
        “Spending more time fighting with those rickety-old office printers and the demonic fax machines than on actual work…”
        “Assuming that the faulty office software will let us work instead of going haywire every time someone uses a semicolon.”
       Brian sighed. “Animals in a zoo have it better than us. At least they’re fed for free and get exercise.”
        “I can’t take this anymore, man. I’m gonna go crazy.” Adam paused. “You know what? We should do something wild, something out of the blue, just to break up the monotony.”
        “Like what?”
        “Like…I don’t know, not come in tomorrow. Go out and enjoy ourselves.”
        “Remember? No paid time off? Besides, we have those reports due tomorrow.”
        “So what? They can wait.”
        “Well, then, what would we do tomorrow?” Brian asked.
        “I don’t know. Go into the city. It’s been a while since I’ve been downtown. I’d like to see some of the historical sites again.”
       Brian nodded. “I hear the Constitution Center’s supposed to be nice.”
        “And we can check out City Hall and the Avenue of the Arts.”
        “And Reading Terminal Market.”
        “But why stay here?” Adam contemplated. “Let’s go some place outside of our immediate area. I mean…Baltimore’s only a two-hour drive away.”
        “And Washington D.C. isn’t too far past that.”
        “How about New York City? We could hop a train and check out the sites up there.”
        “See a Broadway show.”
        “See Regis or Letterman.”
        “Or stay the weekend and try to score tickets to SNL.”
        “Yeah, that’d be sweet.”
       They sat in silence, allowing good dreams and visions to fill their minds and momentarily take them away from their clerical prison.
        “You know what else,” Brian said, still in dream mode, “you know what I’ve always wanted to do? Get a job down the shore, maybe at one of those shops on the boardwalk, and get a beach house or an apartment down there, real close to the ocean. Work during the day, party at night. I knew some guys in college who did that. It sounded awesome.”
        “That does sound awesome.”
        “I know. I’d still love to do that.”
        “You know what I’d always wanted to do?” Adam added. “Spend a whole summer exploring Europe. Start in England, end in Italy. See all the sites, hang out with some locals, get away from all of this.” He waved his hand indicating the office. “Dude, why can’t we do all of that?”
        “Obligations, financial and otherwise.”
        “So what? They’ll still be here when we get back.”
       Brian thought. “I see your point.”
        “Then let’s do it. Tomorrow, we ditch work and go on an adventure somewhere, anywhere, far away from here.”
        “I’m with you!”
        “Gentlemen,” came the gruff, phlegmy voice of their supervisor, Mr. Caruthers, a man who was in his early fifties and wore every battle scar that went with his age like a badge of honor. Adam and Brian’s attention turned directly toward him as he stood in between their cubicles. Mr. Caruthers took a sip from the Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand and held back an acidic belch “I believe you two have work you should be focusing on instead of engaging in idle chitchat? Am I correct?”
        “Yes sir,” Adam said.
        “On it, Mr. Caruthers,” Brian said.
       Mr. Caruthers nodded and walked away.
       Adam and Brian shared forlorn glances at each other. Any and all discussion regarding a method of escape from the day-to-day drudgery of office life would have to wait until later. They turned back into their cubicles and resumed the lemming-like processing of information that was their job. Yet with daydream dalliances involving ways to free their caged spirits now dancing through their minds, things did not seem as bleak as they were before.

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