Viral Opportunity, by Eris Eden
“Your team needs to sell more! Keep pushing them, it’s what I’m paying you for. Now masks will go viral, we are raising the price, the gloves too, and the dessinfectants. Call it the Corona pack, pitch it, get it selling asap.” my boss Dick was loudly instructing me, while he was writing notes and chewing the tip of his pen. “I will raise your goal by 500%, and I expect you to sell double that, or you will get demoted,” he casually tucked his pen behind his ear.
I cringed inside and though he had the most fitting name. Richard. Dick. “Yes, sir, absolutely, sir,” I drawled and left. No doubt if we don’t sell enough it will reflect on our paychecks. That would be a disaster, I had a ton of loans and a hospital bill to pay. But on the other hand, I was almost confident that I could sell the 1000%. Maybe even 2000% over my target. People sure were starting to panick.
I update my team on the new goals and new sales pitch and have them start working and selling. I am there if they need me, marking the packs sold. They sell. Maybe we will hit the goal. Maybe not. I realize how much I hate my job, how much I loathe Dick for being a dick, and I am thinking I could enjoy my work, if only the old fart would retire at once and stop making our lives miserable.
During my lunch break, after I’m sick of listening in on Dick complain to his assistant about his bronhitis and high blood pressure, I check my phone. My friend Peter has called. I return the call. “Hey, you are back in the city?”
“Hey! I’m so glad you called back! Listen, I – I need few things from the grocery store and a pharmacy and I hoped you could pick them up for me. I tested positive and I’m trying to be responsible. I didn’t know who else I’d call, I heard horror storries about people who got sick and others were treating them like shi-“
“Wait,” I disrupt him, my voice low, as I move to more private corner. “You tested positive for COVID19?”
“Yes,” he manages. The worry in his voice goes unmissed.
“Look,” I say, “Text me what you need, I will swing by later. And don’t worry, you are 30 years old, healthy as a horse. Chances are you will be fine just don’t panic.” I pause for the better effect, as I heard him breathe deeply. “Peter. I mean it. Don’t. Panick. Stress will kill you, not virus. I will be there after work.”
“Man, oh man. Thank you.”
I hang up and return to work. We have shit to sell.
Later, I go get the stuff for Peter, and drop by at his place. He opens the door slightly ajar. “I don’t want to let you in, I don’t want you to get sick.”
“Peter, you better let my ass in or I will kick yours,” I growl. He refuses again and I’m ready to kick his doors in, when he gives up and lets me in. “Alright, alright, just don’t tocuh-“
I promptly kiss him on the lips. He shrieks in terror as he recoils. “You will get sick and die!”
I find it amusing how that is his only worry and not the fact that I kissed him. “Please calm down, I brought you the required stuff. I suggest you order delivery for actual tasty food, it’s still beyond me why the hell you ordered kale, when people are going nuts over toilet paper.”
“Toilet paper is not essential in this situation.” he managed, pale. “Why did you kiss me and now you act like it’s nothing?”
Ah, it finally dawned on him. “I’m still straight, and I wanted to shock you a bit and get sick for sure, to see what all the fuss is about.”
“You have a wife and a toddler at home!”
I shook my head. “Actually, I send them to her preppy parents on the countryside just two days ago. I want them to be on the fresh air, with food growing all around them, safe and isolated when the worse hits.”
“And you – you want to get sick? Why?! You can’t build immunity to it!”
“Sympaty sickness, trying to be a supportive frend, I intend to spend the time with you in quarantine, keep you company,” I smirk. “Let’s order pizza, I want the one with pineapple.”
“You are a sinner of the worst kind,” Peter shakes his head and puts some of his groceries in the fridge. “I still can’t beleive you kissed me like that. You know I used to crush on you.”
“Bet you still secretly wanted it.” I tease him.
“Oh, fuck off,” he growls, flustered.
“I’m sorry. But otherwise you’d never agree to give me this novel thing.”
“Novel thing?”
“Yeah. Oh, and by the way, I brough us the Corona beer. Thought it fits the situation.”
He chukles. “You are crazy.”
No symptoms. Not one little cough. No runny nose. No sore throat. By the day eight I doubted I had it. It was early morning and I came to work earlier than usual and made my way to Dick’s office. It was empty, as predicted. He loudly announced yesterday, that today will be his last day at work before he isolates, since the situation was getting worse and even POTUS confirmed it.
I rolled my eyes so hard the muscles that held my eyeballs in place hurt me for an hour afterwards.
And now I was looking at his empty chair that will soon be occupied by his fat old ass and thought to myself – it is either now or never.
I remembered how he threatened to fire me when I wanted to take time off to get my wife to the delivery room. I had to fake panick attack in order to get our of there and get my wife to the hospital in time. And once I came back to work after that I had to give a doctor’s note. I’d call Dick a swine, but I’d be doing a disservice to the beautiful and tasty animal. That memory made up my mind.
I dropped the shades, sat on his chair, stuck my tongue out and licked his notebook, licked his pen he so often put in his mouth, spat on his keyboard and forced myself to cough in the air around and above the desk.
Have a nice time social distancing, motherfucker.
I could have feel bad and you probably think I am a sociopath, but the truth is far from it. I am your average guy, not very nice, but not a prick either. I love my wife and my kid, I do my best to provide for them and I go to Church on every holiday.
Anyhow, once I’m done spittting and licking, I make my way out of the office, and just as I get inside my cubicle, the folks start coming in. Soon, there will be no more Dick and his dickish ways, his son will probably replace him and he was a laid-back kind of guy, easier to work with.
You are welcome, junior. You are welcome, motherfuckers, I think, as I watch my coworkers sit on their respective chairs, after we exchange brief greetings.
Richard the Dick also goes to his office. I see him licking his fingers after he is touching his notebook, I see him chewing on the tip of his pen.
Here comes permanent retirement, I think and hold back a snort.
*
I self-quarantine in Monday. I have no signs, but I held back a lot in Friday and washed my hands so I wouldn’t get anything on my coworkers by accident. They are healthy and mostly young people but still, you never know. I had only one target.
I worked from home and encouraged others to do the same as I told them I am social distancing. Still no symptoms. I visit Peter, who has a runny nose, which is about the worst it gets with him. A week passes and I don’t even cough. I guess it pays to work out and stay healthy, and eat a salad every week. I’m rocking this virus, while I’m sipping on the famous Mexican beer.
“You know what, I still can’t beleived how you frenched me ten days ago,” Peter brings it up. “The whole world is panicking, countries in Europe are on the lockdown, and you decide is a wonderful idea to get sick with me… I just have a hard time digesting it. What was your plan, really?”
“I wanted to stock on the toilet paper and not feel dumb as fuck while at it,” I reply non-chalantly.
“I mean it, seriously, dude. Stop messing around and making fun of people, I know you hate humanity, but still, try to be serious for once.”
“I got a call from my co-worker this morning,” I admit. “Apparently, Dick got sick.”
“The hell?”
I frown. “It can get real bad, with him having underlying health problems, you know.”
Peter sighs, shaking his head. “You… oh you motherfucker. You did it on purpose, haven’t you?”
I shrug. “I was remembering how he threatened to fire me if I take off work in order to drive my wife to the delivery room. He insisted I can call an ambulance and how she doesn’t really need me there when she is pushing a child out, how he needs me more. He cut my paycheck significantly, because I still went to do the right thing, you know? I’m not going to ruin my marriage over my job. And when I was making a list of things as why I hate my job, the whole ten things on the list were Dick, Dick, Dick.” I explain. “You feel me now, right?”
“I totally do.” he seemed pensive. “But don’t you feel bad?”
“I’ll feel bad if he lives trough it,” I reply and take another sip of Corona.
“Yeah, but if he dies… it’s kinda on you, isn’t it?”
I idly lean back on my armchair and stretch. “That’s alright, I’m a Catholic.”
Peter raises an eyebrow at me. “Thou shall not kill?”
“Well, I will go to the confession, I will pray few Holy Marys and Heavenly Fathers and I will be absolved. God is forgiving dude, and he will understand.” I pause. “If he exists, ofcourse. So just in case if that is all real, I will still end up in Heaven.”
Peter couldn’t help but laugh. “You keep reminding me why I love you man.”
“As long as it’s platonic, I don’t really mind.” I answer, but he knows that. We were best friends since forever. I’m not going to bail on him just because it turned out he was gay. It was enough his family bailed. I’m confident in my heterosexuality and my friend needed support. I am a guy who is ready to destroy my enemies given the opportunity, but I am not a piece of shit who’d stab my best friend in the back becuase he isn’t into pussies.
*
“I’m happy to announce we’ve hit and exceeded the sales goal by 1000%,” I tell my team on the virtual meeting two weeks later. “Which means there will be more commisions and we will be able to get trough this terrible times without financial problems,” I announce and I hear some of them cheer, most are happy. “Are you al staying healthy and social distancing?” I wonder.
“We do,” and “You can never be careful enough,” are the answers, and I’m happy to hear them. I like people I work with.
“I’m happy to hear that, however, I’m afraid I have sad news for all of you.” I made a dramatic pause, and see their questioning looks, frowns and some wonder what might it be. I carefully observe their faces on my computer, when I continue. “I was just off the phone with our new boss, David. He is replacing his father Richard who, as you know, was in hospital.” I pause gain, more confused looks and one even wonders if he feels better. “Unfortunately, our beloved boss passed away this morning.” I finish.
“Oh my God! How terrible, may he rest in peace,” says one woman and crosses herself. I see a lot of nooding in confirmation and I also see some honest relief on few people’s faces. I keep my face neutral, it would look weird if I were grinning ear to ear.
I sip the beer and remind myself once this crap blows over, I have to pay visit to the Curch, and seek forgiveness with prayer and some monetary donation, like a good, upstanding Catholic.
My life has been blessed and now, finally, I don’t hate going to my job. I’m truly thankful to all the forces at work. And while the pandemic is bad, and it is terrible how many good people are dying, and I truly hope it goes away soon – I also learned how even the worse things can be a blessing in disguise if you know how to seize the opportunity.