You walk over to that new guy. You think his name is “Matt” or “Mike,” maybe. It’s definitely something with an M. He’s too young for “Mordecai,” too white for “Master P.” Maybe “Michelangelo,” but that seems unlikely.
Unless…
You: “Hey, buddy! Paint any ceilings lately or fight crime in the sewers?”
He stares at you in confusion. “….not really.”
Guess it’s not Michelangelo. That would have been cool. He was the best.
You: “Yeah, me neither. So, what are you up to these days?”
Him: “Working hard, unlike some people in this office.”
You nod knowingly. Lazy layabouts.
Him: “You still owe me those reports, by the way. You promised me four times you would have them by Friday.”
A lightbulb goes off in your head. This isn’t the new guy – this is your boss!
Still not sure of his name, though.
You: “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. I promise you, I’ll have them ready by the end of the day.”
He looks distrusting. You decide to reassure him by using his name, a classic technique. You clap your arm on his back and take a shot in the dark.
You: “No need to worry at all, Mopsy.”
He just blinks and stares at you. That was a dumb guess, in retrospect. Mopsy is a girl’s name.
Things are getting awkward, so you quickly hurry back to where you were before. You find that nothing has changed at all.
A group of your co-workers are gathered around a table. There are baby-related balloons tied to a string in the corner. The decorations are all in pink. The baby shower fingerprint guestbook you have been thinking about buying stands out conspicuously, as if for product placement purposes.
To your left is Tricia from accounting and Jeff from sales. To your right is Amee, and that new guy Matt or Mike. In front of you, on the table, is a laser pointer. You also see cake, but don’t get your hopes up because that’s not part of the adventure.