Chapter 24 - Simon, Wednesday

Well that went as badly as I’d expected, although I guess going in with that kind of attitude didn’t really help! It’s just hard to get excited about it - I know I’ll be gutted if I lose my job, but at the same time it might be the kick up the arse I need. It’s a bit difficult to motivate yourself to beg for your job when you’re not sure you want to keep it!
I thought we might just be having one-on-one meetings with Clive, but I got there to find him flanked by our HR manager and a specially appointed ‘Reassignment Consultant’. For fucks sake, use the term redundancy - we’re all grown-ups, we know what it means! So it was a bit like facing the Firing Squad. I wouldn’t have minded seeing Clive on his own - we’ve worked together a long while - we started in the same department, although clearly our career paths have diverged slightly. He can be a bit of a wet blanket, but he’s always treated me fairly, and I think he’d have given me the nod if anything was up. But not the other two - I doubt I’ve ever spoken to our HR bloke, possibly we’ve communicated by email, but I’m not sure I’d have recognised him if you’d asked me who I was. The Consultant was a smug looking twat in a very expensive looking suit, who sat there with his pen poised looking like he was enjoying the whole process. He started writing something before I even sat down, which really put me on the defensive - that better have been a shopping list!
What followed was pretty much an interview for my job. The usual questions that I don’t know how to answer: what are your strengths? Your weaknesses? Do you consider yourself a team player? Yeah, right - the word ‘team’ when used in that context makes me gag! I can barely tolerate most of the people I work with, so I’m guessing the answer to that is no. I can’t do bullshit very well, so there was a lot of ‘hmmm’-ing and ‘aaah’-ing. It didn’t help that the twat in the suit stared at me the whole time and never said a word. Just as I was looking my most uncomfortable he’d scribble something loudly, and smirk annoyingly. He wants me gone, I can tell. The HR bloke hardly said a word either. I remember him now, a dopey git, never has much to say for himself. If anyone should be going it should be him! At least Clive seemed to be on my side, talking me up a bit when I forgot about stuff I’d done.
He finished with a load of standard spiel about how no decisions had been made yet, how nothing would be decided until all the interviews had taken place, but how they appreciated it was a difficult time so they’d be letting people know as soon as possible as the prolonged wait would prove disruptive in the workplace. Twats. Bugger the workplace, we’re people not machines. I left the meeting feeling like shit - I knew I’d done myself no favours, but equally who wants to work for a company with so little regard for its staff? Wankers.
I went and hid in the toilet for a bit. No one would miss me - management had all gone into hiding since the announcement, and the junior staff were just going through the motions and couldn’t care less either. What am I going to do?

I spent the rest of the day hiding from people. Jim phoned several times but I let the voicemail pick it up - he wanted to know how things had gone, and I was in no rush to repeat the story. Same for Dave. Nick phoned too, which means Mum spoke to him. I’m surprised she bothered, she normally only likes to gloat about my good news, not bad. He sounded sympathetic, which was sweet of him, but I don’t think I’ll phone him back either. Then Mum caught me. It’s easier to take her call than to take the grief for not speaking to her. She wanted to know how things went, and was full of unhelpful ideas about things I should have said. At one point she suggested that this place will fall apart without me, which is frankly so ridiculous I burst out laughing. Of course she told me off - “it’s not a laughing matter Simon!” I wouldn’t mind, but the last job she had was in a hat shop about forty years ago, so she’s hardly an expert!

Lunch was a welcome relief, if only to get out of the office. I’d not been in the mood to make sandwiches, so I wandered down to the shops to get something to eat, and a beer to go with it. I found a bench to sit on and ate in the sunshine, although it was a little too cool to be really nice. A I sat there a few people from the office walked past - some said, “hi”, some looked straight through me. Neil came past, looking a bit lost without his posse. He sat down beside me for a bit and chatted about what was going on - he’d had his interview before lunch and was feeling equally depressed. We were agreed that the Consultant was evil - he never said a word to Neil either, and he felt his interview had gone really badly as well. But they can’t sack us all can they? The place needs some people to keep it going surely? Although we both wondered if the whole thing was part of some sneaky plan to relocate everything to Belgium, without having to offer us jobs over there and pay for our relocation. Of course even if I was offered I’d never go. God I wish this was over!
Neil wandered off in search of his mates, although I think he realised deep down that they’d deserted him and the days of the pub posse are over. When the dust settles it seems unlikely that anyone would want to keep up a tradition that just served to remind them of how many people were missing. I thought I ought to head back to the office too, but before I did I just popped into the shopping centre. I meant to get some chocolate, just a little something to see me through the afternoon, but before I really realised what I’d done I was in the toilets. I had noticed that I needed to pee so it was no surprise when I stood at the urinal and nothing happened. A bloke came in and stood beside me, and it soon became obvious that he wasn’t peeing either. I should have just zipped myself up and left, but in the moment before I did that I turned to look at the bloke beside me and couldn’t help notice that he was waving a hard cock at me. Bloody hell. I cleared my throat, more out of surprise than anything else and zipped myself up and for a moment there was still chance to leave, but I paused just a beat to long, and he said, “you like what you see?” I was dry-mouthed and couldn’t speak. I guess “yes” would have been the truthful answer, but somehow I couldn’t seem to say it, so I nodded my head mutely.
“In there” he said, nodding towards the cubicle, so I turned round and went into the nearest cubicle. He followed, shutting the door behind him and leaning back against it, cock still hanging out of his trousers. It was then that I realised I was out of my depth and didn’t know how to get myself out of the situation. He came towards me, and I thought he was going to hit me so I cowered slightly, which confused him as he was only trying to kiss me. He grabbed me by the back of the head and pulled me into a furious snog. I was on autopilot, the first touch of his lips and I was kissing back, chasing his tongue with my own, immediately forgetting what a dumb idea it was. As he kissed me his other hand reached for my belt, finally getting it open after a couple of tugs. The zip stuck a little, so he yanked it down as far as he could go and then pushed his hand into my trousers. As soon as his hand touched my cock I froze. This wasn’t a good idea, it wasn’t what I wanted. I tried to push him away, mumbling something in coherent and telling him to stop, but he didn’t stop, so I pushed him a little harder and he stumbled backwards.
“I’m sorry, I can’t do this”
“Bit fucking late now pal, you should have thought about that before you led me in here.”
“I’m sorry, this isn’t what I want, let me out.”
“You fucking prick tease, you think you can get me all worked up then just walk away because you don’t feel like it? Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m sorry, let me out, or I’ll call for help”
“Call for help? Who’s gonna come and rescue a filthy pervert in the toilets? Get a grip mate! Now, give me your wallet.”
“What? No!”
“Come on, I said give me your fucking wallet, you must have something in there I can use.”
“No, I won’t, let me out!”
But my whining just annoyed him more than he already was, and next thing I know he has my head in his hands and he’s banging it against the cubicle wall. Thank God it was only wood, but it still hurt like hell. I was sobbing and begging him to stop, and after the fourth or fifth time he did, and I slid to the floor, sobbing like a baby, holding my head, snot running down my face. He grabbed the wallet out of the inside pocket of my jacket, and turned to open the door, but before he left he spat in my face, and left saying, “that’ll teach you you pathetic closet case”.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but I finally moved when I heard someone come into the toilets. I leapt up and slammed the door shut, then sat down on the toilet with my head in my hands, silently sobbing. I could feel bruises where I’d hit the wall, but thankfully there was no blood. Fuck I felt a mess.