You wander aimlessly down the management hall, focusing on the orange elevator doors for balance. Your mind races. You clammer to make sense of what just happened, bridging the enormous canyon between what you thought was going to transpire and what actually did. You ride the elevator back down to your floor and float mindlessly through the maze of cubicles. A commotion behind you, rockets you back to the present. You turn to see Susan with a box of personal belongings being escorted down the hall. She sees you and immediately her face change from an irritated shade of red to a furious shade of deep purple. She drops the box suddenly to the floor and fights one arm loose from her escort. She points menacingly at you.
"You did this!" she screams vehemently "I can't believe you did this to me! You know you can't take this job and still fuck that little boy toy of yours!"
The suit regains control of her and tries to help her pick up her battered box. She pushes him away defiantly and picks it up herself. She throws open the heavy glass doors, crashing them into their frames. One panel shatters and splinters to the ground in a tinkling crash. The security officer follows close behind her, ensuing that she leave the building and the premesis. Just as they clear the front door, another gentleman walks out of the elevator with another security escort. He holds his head high and conducts himself in a professional manner as he walks through the foyer carrying his box of personal effects. It takes a moment for you to place the face but after a moment you recall seeing him at one of the human resource meetings (ironically). He was the manager of the accounting department. He walks boldly out the front doors without so much as a comment, an angry gesture or even a wry glance. His face is devoid of any color or any emotion. You recall hearing that he was married and just recently had a baby with his new wife. You can't help but shake your head, it's impossible to grasp how someone could throw away a life with everything for a fling. And here the rest of us sit, looking for exactly what they so callously discard. You might even have a little more sympathy for the guy if it weren't Susan! What possible appeal she could hold for a member of either sex is completely beyond your comprehension.