07-15-2017, 08:35 AM
(This post was last modified: 07-15-2017, 09:28 AM by timeconsumer.)
"More coffee". Not "More coffee, please", or "Hey, Sam, can we get some more coffee in here?" Just "More coffee." And now I find myself climbing these stairs for the fourth time this morning in my never-ending quest to refill cups. "Get an unpaid internship." they said "It will give you important experience" they said. Yeah, I feel really damn important.
Halfway down the hall from the Otters' War Room and the smell already hits me, when are these guys going to take a shower? But, something is different this time. The door, plastered with the "Otters' Front Office Staff ONLY" signs (seriously though, do you need 3 signs?), is cracked open, and the security guard doesn't seem to be there. Every other time I've walked up, handed the coffee trays to him, and take my seat in the hallway across from the door. I don't even know why they bother with a security guard, I know Angus Winchester is in there half the time. He's twice the size of the security guard.
So, what do I do? Do I knock? Do I announce myself through the ajar door? I can hear them talking inside. Do I keep standing here like an idiot with my mouth open? Before I can make up my mind the door swings open in front of me and I'm standing face-to-chest with Angus Winchester.
"Uh, I, uh, brought the, uh, coffee. Sir." I stammered out.
"I see that. Go put it inside." He boomed as I quickly get out of his way and watch him walk down the hallway toward the bathroom. I think the smell was mostly coming from him.
I get to see the actual War Room! Coffee Boy Sam finally gets to see what sports management is really about! The conference table is covered in empty styrofoam cups and takeout boxes. There is a giant poster on the wall with names, colors, numbers, and handwritten scratches all over. @Jbearly and @Jiggly_333 stand in front of the poster and appear to be in an argument over why you can't add animated gifs onto a poster. @Shaka is pacing in the far corner, phone to his ear, with the stub of an unlit cigar sticking out from his grimaced expression. There are a half a dozen other guys I don't recognize sitting in front of laptops or talking into cell phones, one of them pounding on a USB ten-key. Jesus, how many people are in their front office?
Nobody seems to recognize my presence. So I find an empty-ish corner of the table and set the coffee trays down on it. Okay, now's your chance to get noticed by the big wigs and land the job when you graduate in the spring. Say something smart. I open my mouth but before the words can come out Shaka starts screaming from his corner behind me.
"Well that IS the fucking market value right now you ignorant mongoloid! And if you don't like it you can take your worthless draft pick and shove it up your ass!" He shouts into the phone just before pitching it at the wall where it breaks into several pieces. His tirade continues as everyone in the room has turned to look at him "I don't know what the hell these guys are smoking up there, but they are out of their goddamn minds. I have half a mind to get on a plane and fly up----" He trails off as his gaze settles on me. "Who the hell are you and why are you in here?"
"I'm uh, I'm Sam....I'm the....the..." I'm frozen. I can't even remember what my job is right now.
"He's one of the interns, he was bringing the coffee." On of the guys at the conference table explains without looking up from his laptop.
"Oh thank god" he sighs in relief as he grabs for a cup and takes a swig. "Ugh" He groans. "What the hell is this crap?" He looks at the side of the cup "What in God's name is a chai latte?"
"That's mine!" Jiggly squeals as he leaps over the table to grab it.
"Do they not make normal coffee anymore?" Shaka asks, seemingly to me.
"This one is yours, sir. Extra large black coffee." I manage to squeak out with slightly less trouble than my efforts before.
He pulls it out of my hand and takes a giant swig, his facial expression relaxing. "Thanks kid, now do us a favor and clean up some of this other crap would ya?"
Invaluable work experience. Screw you.
Halfway down the hall from the Otters' War Room and the smell already hits me, when are these guys going to take a shower? But, something is different this time. The door, plastered with the "Otters' Front Office Staff ONLY" signs (seriously though, do you need 3 signs?), is cracked open, and the security guard doesn't seem to be there. Every other time I've walked up, handed the coffee trays to him, and take my seat in the hallway across from the door. I don't even know why they bother with a security guard, I know Angus Winchester is in there half the time. He's twice the size of the security guard.
So, what do I do? Do I knock? Do I announce myself through the ajar door? I can hear them talking inside. Do I keep standing here like an idiot with my mouth open? Before I can make up my mind the door swings open in front of me and I'm standing face-to-chest with Angus Winchester.
"Uh, I, uh, brought the, uh, coffee. Sir." I stammered out.
"I see that. Go put it inside." He boomed as I quickly get out of his way and watch him walk down the hallway toward the bathroom. I think the smell was mostly coming from him.
I get to see the actual War Room! Coffee Boy Sam finally gets to see what sports management is really about! The conference table is covered in empty styrofoam cups and takeout boxes. There is a giant poster on the wall with names, colors, numbers, and handwritten scratches all over. @Jbearly and @Jiggly_333 stand in front of the poster and appear to be in an argument over why you can't add animated gifs onto a poster. @Shaka is pacing in the far corner, phone to his ear, with the stub of an unlit cigar sticking out from his grimaced expression. There are a half a dozen other guys I don't recognize sitting in front of laptops or talking into cell phones, one of them pounding on a USB ten-key. Jesus, how many people are in their front office?
Nobody seems to recognize my presence. So I find an empty-ish corner of the table and set the coffee trays down on it. Okay, now's your chance to get noticed by the big wigs and land the job when you graduate in the spring. Say something smart. I open my mouth but before the words can come out Shaka starts screaming from his corner behind me.
"Well that IS the fucking market value right now you ignorant mongoloid! And if you don't like it you can take your worthless draft pick and shove it up your ass!" He shouts into the phone just before pitching it at the wall where it breaks into several pieces. His tirade continues as everyone in the room has turned to look at him "I don't know what the hell these guys are smoking up there, but they are out of their goddamn minds. I have half a mind to get on a plane and fly up----" He trails off as his gaze settles on me. "Who the hell are you and why are you in here?"
"I'm uh, I'm Sam....I'm the....the..." I'm frozen. I can't even remember what my job is right now.
"He's one of the interns, he was bringing the coffee." On of the guys at the conference table explains without looking up from his laptop.
"Oh thank god" he sighs in relief as he grabs for a cup and takes a swig. "Ugh" He groans. "What the hell is this crap?" He looks at the side of the cup "What in God's name is a chai latte?"
"That's mine!" Jiggly squeals as he leaps over the table to grab it.
"Do they not make normal coffee anymore?" Shaka asks, seemingly to me.
"This one is yours, sir. Extra large black coffee." I manage to squeak out with slightly less trouble than my efforts before.
He pulls it out of my hand and takes a giant swig, his facial expression relaxing. "Thanks kid, now do us a favor and clean up some of this other crap would ya?"
Invaluable work experience. Screw you.
Code:
762 words
Hank Winchester (S25 - Current) - Scrub
Angus Winchester (S1-S12) - 4x Ultimus Champ - #2 Career Sacks - Hall of Fame
Cooter Bigsby (S14-S23) - S23 Ultimus Champ - #4 Career Yards - #4 Career TDs - 2x MVP - Hall of Fame