I suppose it all started in the summer of 2023. I was depressed. Earlier in the year I needed some dental work and without dental insurance money that had been saved for the summer vacation went potentially down the drain. The work needed to be done and this was all part of being an adult. You don’t always get what you want.

Bill’s birthday is in June and we both were enthralled by Ted Lasso. Bill loved the Roy Kent chant on the show and I thought it would be funny and a good idea to get him an official Roy Kent jersey from the Warner Brothers store online. I duly ordered it and had it shipped to the Burton & McGrotty mailroom where I was working at the time.

I was constantly tracking the shipment and it was noted as being delivered. I was on the outs with the boys in the mailroom since I had interrupted a story that Ishmael Villanueva was telling about his visit to Italy and hanging out with people who were doing drugs off a toilet seat. Having done drugs myself back in the day in toilets I remarked that it couldn’t have been done off a toilet seat.

Ishmael Villanueva remarked that I should shut up and mind my own business which is quite an effective way to shut me up and shut me down. Donald Chieffa was unusually silent, keeping his bastard mouth closed. So days went by, no sign of the package. I contacted Warner Brothers who said the package was delivered. I went to the post office and they told me the package was refused.

The near homeless can collector mailroom yob Enrique Purgemino was supposedly good friends with the post office workers since who doesn’t like a noisy idiotic can collector visiting and harassing each worker stationed behind a window? I went back to the mail room and stated what the post office employees told me and then Enrique had a meltdown.

Shahabudeena Khan witnessed all of this and being quite an impotent mailroom manager did absolutely nothing. Shahabuddena Khan had a mailroom team that was in a disarray of sorts and whereas a competent manager would gather his team together to get to the bottom of the situation and try to make things better, he sat in his office and watched cricket games while he farted loudly enough that his team can hear him from 20 feet away.

The package eventually did arrive in time for Bill’s birthday and with all the trouble and heartache I went through to get the Roy Kent jersey, it remains on a hanger unworn to this very day. The depression remained.

Marvin Orales was someone I thought of as a friend until he made a joke in the mailroom saying that if I was going to kill myself I should take out these mailroom coworkers as well. I confronted him about that soon after telling him what a horrible thing it was to say. He replied that he was joking when I explained my depression.

I am old school in the fact that if I have a problem with someone who did something as heinous as what Marvin Orales had said, I would go to that person. Nowadays the thing to do is go to human resources, in this case something called Jermie Afoul. I didn’t realize it then but human resources is not there to help the employee but to protect and defend the employer. Jermie Afoul was very much useless to me.

Rafe Dais and Shahabudeena Khan had a sit down meeting with me one afternoon following all that. We sat in Tom Percival’s empty office. They appeared to be concerned but being dreadfully heterosexual men, it was all a facade. They sat me down and awkwardly asked me what was wrong, why I was depressed. I mentioned the dental work, and also the fact that the papers I processed and kits I produced were for ill people, some of whom were dying.

They had a solution. I should leave the firm. I was surprised by this suggestion and told them I wasn’t going anywhere. I was going to stay and finish out my time at Burton & McGrotty thinking it would be the job I retired from. The meeting ended somewhat unresolved. I went to the holiday party and found it lacking that year. I went in 2021 and that was fun. Donald Chieffa was friendly then and quite funny as were my coworkers.

In 2023 it wasn’t all that. Seemed rather cheap. It had to be since in 2021 there were fewer employees and in 2023 there were many more people, mainly millennials who were generally quite stupid that wouldn’t know a good holiday party if it sat on their collective faces. I was able to have a beer or two, be in a photo with Rafe Dais and Shahabudeena Khan and then sneak out for a smoke which was a cigar and would take some time.

Marvin Orales did make it a point to find me at the holiday party and apologize for what he had said months before. He seemed somewhat contrite but that was probably because of what he was drinking, so his slurring was ineffectual and pointless and much too late.

I stood outside of Chelsea Market enjoying my cigar when Enrique Purgemino slithered up, unable to find the party. It asked me where it was and despite the fact that Enrique was particularly awful to me the entire year, I showed him where to go. Then I walked to the Path train, smoking my cigar and walking to the station that was farthest from me.

I was home earlier than expected. A few days later Rafe Dais and Shahabudeena Khan hosted a party for their team. I initially replied that I wasn’t going to go but relented and went. I pictured myself giving a speech, trying to explain my behavior that year but it wasn’t to be that type of party. When I looked at the menu before the party thinking I would have a pint or two and Shepherd’s Pie, it turned out to be catered with sliders and quesadillas.

I drank cola and didn’t eat anything. I sat opposite Ishmael Villanueva and Donald Chieffa who seemed to be just staring at me neither one of us communicating with each other. I left after about 30 minutes wishing the table a merry Christmas before I headed to the Path train.

Bill and I did manage to go on vacation that summer so it was not a washout and it was a high point of the year. But the work was getting to be a drag. I still rallied, showing up early and staying late. I would see Donald Chieffa working exactly 8 hours and no more. If it was in at 7:50 AM then it would leave at 3:50 PM and not a minute later. Plenty of kudos for it, with none for me.

Shahabudeena Khan gave me a midyear review. It was not good for me. He said I was easily distracted and my work suffered because of it. The very next day, it was Churna Otto’s birthday. Churna was a Filipino immigrant like Ishmael Villanueva and Jeffrey Lupine who I worked alongside. They all were under the aegis of Joselita Semen, the closeted former nurse from the Philippines.

It seemed to be a Filipino tradition to have lots of food for a birthday party and so in the mailroom, in the middle of the day a party for Churna Otto was held. Plenty of food and stories and I did not partake since 24 hours before I was told I was too distracted during the work day and I was going to prove that a fucking birthday party could go on around me and I would not be distracted by it and focused intensely on the work I had before me.

Shahabudden Khan told me that Joselita Semen was not their boss and I had to hold back laughing in Shahabudeena Khan’s jowled face. Joselita Semen was married with a kid so there was absolutely no way that he could be a homosexual. In fact he hated homosexuals, especially homosexuals that were not in the closet and had nothing to hide.

Moments after Shahabudeena Khan stated Joselita Semen’s place in the hierarchy Joselita walked in, said something in Tagalog which made Ishmael Villanueva and Jeffrey Lupine sit up as if a wild hair was tickling their rectums and they went about doing whatever Joselita Semen told them to do.

Loafia DePatio was a worker that I sort of enjoyed at that point. She was proud to not vote in the previous election and I commended her on letting others decide what she can do with her body. It was awkward but she later stepped up and suggested that I sit at the front desk which was something I had done a few times at previous jobs, and I did it quite well.

I mentioned it to Shahabudeena Khan who said his usual stupid shit about how I would have to dress (which was basically how I dressed every day). It was a good move and I felt I finally found a spot where I can do good work. A few weeks after that I walked by Rafe Dais’ office and said how I felt that I was doing good work, like 100%. Rafe Dais being himself did not agree and felt I was doing about 70%. That was deflating.

“God bless the supportive manager” said the atheist.

When summer arrived, a lot of people were able to work from home meaning the office would be half empty on Fridays. My job was to keep producing kits for individual clients, packaging them and labelling them for mailing. There were also clients who had appointments with various claim administrators (CA) and walk-ins who happened to be in the neighborhood.

One particular man came in to see Nico Garcia who happened to be out this Friday afternoon. The man was elderly and did not speak much English. No matter, I sat him down, got him something to drink and set about trying to find someone in the half empty office that spoke Spanish. The man was comfortable enough that at one point he fell asleep.

I searched and searched since there was no clear way of finding who was in the office that Friday. I came across Baron Calamaras. I thought that sounded like a Spanish name and sent an intra-office text, saying Pablo Rodriquez (not his real name) was here at reception for almost 2 hours.

Baron Calamaras replied ‘Let me guess, he speaks Spanish’ I almost replied ‘Well he is Latin and the toga and laurels on his head indicate so’ but decided not to and replied to Baron Calamaras with a text saying ‘Really?’

That upset Baron Calamaras so much that a complaint was filed. That complaint turned out to be strike one. Apparently, the problem was me saying ‘Really?’ not the fact that this elderly client was sitting in reception for 2 hours. I was able to find someone to help with the language thanks to something named Loy Jing.

When I started working at the front desk there was an office manager in my area who was able to arrange a schedule for different coworkers to sit at my desk so I could get a lunch hour. It was a workable schedule and no one seemed to mind. Then that office manager left Burton & McGrotty and her position was filled by Brattle Dais, Rafe Dais’ daughter. She was nice and somewhat pretty and not much else.

The workable schedule was abandoned for some reason and it was up to Brattle Dais to find a different solution. It seemed to me to be a hassle that didn’t have to be so. I basically needed time away from the desk, if only for 20 minutes. I started calling it my ‘20 minute lunch hour’ which when you think of it (and they didn’t) was a bit humorous.

But Brattle Dais was having tremendous difficulty maintaining the schedule. One day while a client was on the reception couch looking at their phone and not paying attention to much of anything, I stepped away about 20 feet and relayed to Brattle Dais that I only needed 20 minutes away for a lunch hour. I said it seemed that the company couldn’t figure it out and 20 minutes was fine by me.

Brattle Dais heard this as ‘The company was treating me badly and taking away my lunch hour’ and that I said this in front of a client. Now like I said the client was in reception, I was about 20 feet away. This turned out to be strike two.

A week or so later in July, I was summoned to Shahabudeena Khan’s office. The mailroom was empty so Jeffrey Lupine, Ishmael Villanueva, and Donald Chieffa were not present nor was Enrique Purgemino who, even when in the room, was never really present.

It was Jermie Afoul, Shahabudeena Khan and Rafe Dais.

They laid out the 2 strikes, Baron Calamaras initial complaint and Brattle Dais’ fabrication. I was taken aback. I was stunned that the ‘Really’ response to Baron Calamaras was more upsetting to these people than the fact that a client was sitting in reception for 2 hours. And Brattle Dais’ fabrication was overwhelming by the falsehood she seemed to have been manipulated to report.

Like I said, I was taken aback. I was overwhelmed by Brattle Dais’ ignorance and couldn’t properly respond. And what would it have done anyway? Rafe Dais would never doubt what his daughter said and had gone on record with, therefore the problem was me. I pleaded my case in whatever meager way that I could, going so far as to ask Jamie Afoul, Shahabudeena Khan and Rafe Dais, what did I need to do to correct this situation.

I was serious, going so far as to say if they needed me to start writing left handed that I would try to do just that. They laughed at this foolhardy response. I was up against the wall so much that I couldn’t see the writing on the wall.

I had no choice but to continue my daily routine. Going in early, staying late and not leaving until my day’s tasks were completed. I would eat lunch surreptitiously at my desk around 1:00 and no one would be able to sit at my desk until 2:45, after everyone else was able to have their lunches further away from dinner time unlike myself.

I would wander around Tribeca eventually finding a spot on Thomas Street which was generally deserted around the faceless AT&T building. The work situation was dysfunctional but I had to work through it somehow. I developed facial tics that would go away after I did breathing exercises of 4/7/8 on my way back to the office. I would finish my cigar on Murray Street outside the building where I worked.

I arranged to have my friend Katie get a job and she worked as part of Shahabudeena Khan’s team on a different floor. Katie filled in for me at my desk at 2:45. She was alternating with Churna Otto until Churna Otto reported that she was afraid of me and would rather not sit at the desk for me. Her fear was accepted though I have no idea why she would be afraid of me since my interaction with Churna Otto was so limited it was almost nonexistent.

Joselita Semen still had a problem with homosexuals that were out of the closet, specifically me. We would bump heads sometimes and it was fleeting with each of us going back to our respective corners. I would have a feeling of dread whenever I saw him.

One time his beard, I mean, his wife and son were visiting and I had to get something from the supply room where Joselita Semen ruled it’s queendom.

There was his beard, I mean, his wife and his son. I saw them and said nothing and would have been fine with that but Joselita Semen saw this as an opportunity to introduce me to them. It was pointless and stupid and served no real function.

It was soon October. Things were dysfunctional as ever but still I managed. On October 21 I was in the kitchen getting my coffee and Joselita Semen was filling the fridge as it was his job. Out Of the blue, Joselita Semen started shouting at me, ‘You are Bullshit.’ and ‘Do you want to fight me?’ He said it a few times. Coworkers overheard it. I got out of there as soon as my coffee was ready, walking past the coworkers who had the collective look on their faces of ‘What the fuck was that about?’

I sat at my desk and sent an email detailing what had happened to Jermie Afoul, the human resources director. She wanted the names of the witnesses and I gave them to her. I told Rafe Dais who thought it to be funny enough to laugh about. Joselita Semen passed my desk again taunting me and yelling. I told him he needed to get help, which he heard asking ‘Are you telling me to go to hell?’

I was rattled and went through my day. I was shook as they say.

The day ended with Rafe Dais and Jermie Afoul in a conference room telling me the matter had been discussed and the solution was to have Joselita Semen and myself avoid each other. Not easy to do as I was situated at the front desk not able to move freely as Joselita Semen who had the run of the office.

I explained to Jermie Afoul that I had done my best to avoid Joselita Semen so much that instead of ordering supplies that I needed from his supply room, I would order from Amazon or pick up whatever supplies I needed at lunchtime. Jermie Afoul replied that I should have expensed that. Jamie Afoul being the person she is, felt that my ordering supplies from somewhere else that were easily available to employees would be OK.

Rafe Dais told me soon after that, that Joselita Semen had a few negative encounters with employees, Rafe Dais included. Joselita Semen was untouchable. It seems when he was a male nurse he was taking care of one of Michael Burton’s parents or step-parent or relative.

Time went on, the relative died and Michael Burton seemed to be so taken by Joselita Semen’s loving care that he promised that he would take care of Joselita Semen, therefore giving Joselita Semen a job for life. And so, nothing would ever happen to Joselita Semen who was free to be the closeted douchebag he excelled at.

On October 22, I was at my desk doing my job. I felt that Joselita Semen was so full of rage towards me that I was not sure if it would show up with a knife or a gun and try to harm or kill me. He had a lawyer in his corner, Michael Burton and such was the love that Michael Burton had for Joselita Semen that any legal work in his defense would more than likely be pro bono.

I continued doing my work albeit uneasily. And while working under duress that I found myself in, I sent one of the kits I produced incorrectly. A Mr. Zardy in Long Island received paperwork meant for Jean in Queens. Mr. Zardy was a new client and this was the first paperwork he received. Of course, I did the research and he got the paperwork on time but did not open the package until almost a week later. No one heard anything from Jean in Queens who seemingly had gone missing and was unreachable.

It was said that Mr. Zardy received his own paperwork as well as Jean from Queens.

The die was cast. This was to be strike three.

I found out about this on Friday, November 1. I researched what might have happened and tried to contact coworkers for info on the status of this situation but no one was responding, and no information was forthcoming. It was on my mind that weekend and I didn’t think it was anything insurmountable.

I had produced hundreds of kits a week, almost a thousand a month. There might have been an error every now and then. A FedEx envelope would have a USPS sticker on it or vice versa. Enrique Purgamino was the designated delivery thing to FedEx and the Post Office and would return with my error in hand gloating as if that was to be the reason for my dismissal.

I returned to work on November 4, determined to check and recheck and recheck again, my work before I would seal the FedEx envelope to be sent to clients. It seemed to be a workable idea. But it was too little too late. Partners in the law firm like Lyor Leigh were lurking about my area throughout the day. I did go to lunch and tried to enjoy a cigar.

I also followed the advice Loafia DePanio suggested and started an email for the Department of Labor, a harassment claim. She also suggested filing a claim with OSHA as well as Leticia James, the district attorney who loves to file claims on behalf of harassed workers.

I did not follow Rafe Dais’s advice to sue the law firm we both worked for. I didn’t think I would have a chance to sue a law firm.

At 4:00 PM I was summoned into a conference room with Rafe Dais and Jermie Afoul who told me my job was being terminated and if I wanted the severance that was promised to me I would have to sign some forms and I would take no legal action against them.

The email is still in my queue. I have been out of work since the dreaded November 5 election and I am still wounded and bitter.