touch as I pass by. I wait for
my check but before he
hands it to me, he says,
I scheduled you to work on
Christmas. I know you asked for it
off, but Midge has seniority. She asked
first. He measures my reaction, which
must disappoint him. No way would
I work Christmas, but I already
planned to quit today. “Sorry,
Kevin. You probably know I’m
living in the North Valleys now, and
the commute has become impossible.
I was going to give two weeks’
notice, but I’m not going to
work Christmas Day.”
His face flares, one
shade lighter than purple.
Damn, it’s scary! You can’t
just up and quit like that. What
am I supposed to do for help?
He’s actually waiting
for an answer.
“I don’t know, Kevin.
Maybe you’ll have to work
it yourself. Or call up one of
your little hos. I couldn’t care
less. In fact, I may as well
leave right now. I think
it looks like snow.”