I wrapped up the sales report with my typical, "Any questions?" It was met with the usual expectant stares of my co-workers who just wanted to get the hell out of there and back to their cubicles to wait out the last half hour of the work day. "None. Fantastic. Same time next week, gang. And Simmons, come here for a minute."
Everyone filed out, except Simmons, who had become something of a whipping boy for me here in the office. As one of his supervisors I had access to spy in on what he was doing on his computer from time to time. The system had been put in place to let us make sure the employees weren't goofing off on the Internet during office hours, but in the case of Simmons I caught him quite literally with his pants down. I happened to check in on him while he was apparently up loading several pictures of himself and another man having sex onto a gay personals site. Normally there are protocols and disciplinary procedures that would go with this but I decided that it would be much more fun to have something like this that I could hold over his head and torture him with. I had had my suspicions that he was a queer ever since he started with the company anyway. He was kind of smallish and fragile looking, and was always impeccably dressed and meticulously groomed. From his manicured nails to his always perfectly styled dark hair to his high voice to just the way he moved, he always came across as gay but desperate to hide it.
He girlishly strutted towards me, knowing what was coming, trying to exude strength when we both knew that he had none in this situation. Since busting him nearly a month earlier I made it a point to have one of these chats with him whenever I could. He stood before me, his arms clutching a couple of files against his chest with a look that was equal parts anxiety and "let's just get this over with."
"You came in a few minutes late today Simmons. Any reason?" He opened his mouth to answer, but I charged straight ahead with my fun. "Let me guess, sucking cock in the bathroom again? Who was it this time? Janitor or security guard? You know Simmons I'm disappointed in you. If you were smart you'd be blowing Mr. Harrison and the rest of the higher ups. I'm sure you could work your way up the corporate ladder on your knees if you're good at what you do. After all, it's not calling 'sucking up' for nothing."
I paused to chuckle at my little joke while he stood slightly trembling before me. As usual he looked as though he was torn between crying and taking a swing at me with his little bony arms. I relished that look, knowing that he wanted so desperately to hurt me but couldn't; that the best he could hope for was to not give me the pleasure of seeing him break down.
"Well Simmons I don't want to keep you from whatever penis, oh I mean project, you're working on. Just don't go guzzling too much cum. That stuff goes straight to your hips and I know you worry about keeping that girlish figure."
He turned on his heels and left. I couldn't help but smile my sadistic smile. Part of me knew it was wrong but it was just so easy and so much fun.
I came through the door the next day to see my message light blinking on my phone. The message was from Clair, Mr. Harrison's secretary. My boss wanted to see me before I did anything that morning. Harrison and I went way back to our college days when we played basketball together. He graduated three years ahead of me and had started working in this office. When I graduated he set me up with a job and generally watched out for me like a big brother. He was a pretty big guy, blonde, athletic. And unlike me he had stayed in the same shape he was in ten years ago. I couldn't figure out for the life of me just why the hell he had called me in that morning since I had lunch meeting scheduled with him that afternoon. I still didn't have any idea minutes later as I approached his office. Clair looked up and said, "Go on in. Mr. Harrison's expecting you."
I bounded through the door and called in, "You wanted to see me, Chief?"
"Yes, I wanted to see you, but that's Mr. Harrison to you. Have a seat."
I was puzzled by his sudden bout of formality but I caught on when I looked into the office and saw Simmons sitting in one of the chairs in front of Harrison's desk. I reluctantly lowered myself into the second chair and started mentally detailing the ways I was going to get this little queer back for this.
"Now Mr. Simmons has just told about some rather disturbing behavior on your part, old pal."
I jumped to my defense. "Keith, I caught this guy looking at porn on company time and..."
Harrison cut me off, "Check your tone. I'm still your boss. And Mr. Simmons has come clean to me about the entire history that has led us up to this point." I looked over to Simmons to see him with the slightest hint of a grin on his face. He was clearly enjoying this more than words could say. I wanted nothing more than to reach over and punch that shit eating grin off his damn face, but right now I was in hot water and I needed to find a way out of it. I turned back to Keith but before I could even open my mouth he spoke again. "Save it. Nothing you say is going to change my mind. As it stands you've still got your job and you should thank your lucky stars for that, but if you interrupt me again I may very well reconsider that, too. If I were to do this by the book both of you would be out on the street right now but you're both too valuable in your current positions. Besides, Mr. Simmons already has more than enough to sue the crap out of us. And you and I do go way back. Fortunately I've managed to convince Mr. Simmons to let this whole thing end with me. You will take a pay cut, attend sensitivity training, and personally apologize to Mr. Simmons, who will be transferred out of your department. Any questions?"
I answered him with a silent glare. "Good. Here's the address for the sensitivity training. Be there at 9 a.m. on Saturday. Now, you two shake hands and get back to work."
My jaw was clenched so tight that I could barely open it to say, "I'm deeply sorry if my actions offended you, Simmons. I hope that we can put this past us and work together down the road." Of course, that apology might have been a little more impressive if my voice had an ounce of sincerity in it or if I had been actually shaking his hand rather than trying to squeeze it hard enough to break a bone or two. I stormed out of Keith's office with some very angry thoughts on my mind. Keith had betrayed me. Sure he had kept me my job, but that's not where my mind was. I could get other jobs. The fact that he let Simmons call the shots was what made me sick. And what was this "Mr. Simmons" garbage? The Keith Harrison that I knew didn't get pushed around by runts like Simmons. And Simmons...the whole damn thing made me so mad that I left early, complaining of stomach pains.
Saturday morning rolled around and I reported to the address Keith had given me. It was another office building, not unlike the one I worked in. In fact it was only about a ten-minute drive from my job. I entered the empty lobby and hit the button for the elevator. The address I was given said this thing was going on in room 405, which I found without much trouble on the fourth floor. I entered the room and found a table with coffee and donuts on one side and a large dry-erase board on the other with about a dozen chairs in front of it. Written on the board in big blue letters were the words "SENSITIVITY TRAINING."
"Oh, you're the first one here," said a voice behind me. I nearly jumped out of my shirt, and spun around. "Oops, didn't mean to spook you. I'm Charles, and I'll be leading the activities today. Why don't you have a cup of coffee and take a seat while the rest of the group gets here?"
I took his cue and went over the table. I had actually skipped breakfast since I woke up late and I was quite hungry. I wolfed down a couple of donuts and poured myself a very large cup of coffee, which I practically guzzled. I went to one of the chairs and took a seat. After a few minutes I felt like I was going to fall asleep. I was used to sleeping in on Saturdays. Maybe I needed more coffee. I yawned as I took a look at my watch, which read 9:15. "Um, Charles, if none of these others people show, what's gonna happen?"
"Oh, there's only two others coming. And there they are now," he said, indicating the doorway. I looked over my shoulder and saw Keith and Simmons standing and grinning at me.