Missing Things - FIRST DRAFT

passing notes

Liar! You didn't find the cock ring! And it wasn't a vibrator, it was just a remote. 

BTW, I have a theory about that. I think someone who normally used the phone app to control their vibrator had to use the remote because Collaborate Plus disabled the app, but because they weren't used to the remote, they forgot it in the bathroom. Just another way Collaborate Plus ruins our lives. Arthur was right to send that email. He knows he doesn't have anything to lose! I bet his severance would be enough to let him retire. If I thought I'd get enough severance to retire, I'd write an email in support of Arthur. But instead I'll complain to you and hope your days are just as hopeless as mine. That's a terrible thing to say. I shouldn't have said that. I hope your days are better than mine. Maybe I should just ask you about your day.

How is your day?

*

Carl leaned against the door and stared at the message. "How is your day?"

He sighed. Today had been the worst. He was hating work more and more, and today he could barely fake interest in his meeting. On top of all that, when he shared the news about multiple build failures impeding his progress, Sean had insinuated that he had caused the issue himself. When he and others mentioned that it was an ongoing issue with the build team, Sean accused him of being lazy and incompetent for not working towards a solution.

He was going to remind Sean that fixing build failures wasn't his job, that it was the build team's job, but decided against it. There was no point arguing. Sean had made up his mind and he would believe Carl was lazy and incompetent regardless of any argument made to the contrary.

"My days in the office are boring and pointless," Carl wrote back to the notepad. "On bad days, they're also filled with pain and suffering. Everything is terrible. The only thing I look forward to are your messages."

Carl stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He tried to remember why he was doing this.

"I check for your messages after my meeting in the morning, but before lunch," he wrote. "If I don't know what to write to you, I take your note with me to lunch and think about it. Then I come back and write to you. I keep your notes in my pocket all day and I bring them home at night. I keep all your notes. I put them in an envelope at home and re-read them sometimes."

He folded up the day's note and put it in his pocket.

He put the notepad back in the tissue box and exited the bathroom. As usual, there was no one else in the area.

A thought occurred to Carl: what if there were notepads in all the other bathrooms.

He looked around one more time to make sure he was alone and walked into the next bathroom. He closed the door and opened the drawers. There was nothing, not even a tissue box.

He checked the other bathrooms. Same thing: nothing in the drawers.

He wondered what was different about that last bathroom. There was obviously something special about it. It was where the vibrator remote and the cock ring had been found, and it was where the notepad was. Was it just because it was the farthest away?

He went back to his desk and thought about that instead of the build failures.