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“I wanted to talk to you about today’s weather segment. Since it is fall and we are headed into the holiday season, I thought it would be great if we get you into a costume.”
The crazy man reached over to the desk and held up a freakin’ turkey costume. Max threw up in his mouth a little as he watched his producer. Things seemed to move in slow motion. His heart started beating rapidly and his palms begin to sweat. No way in hell was he putting that thing on. It was one thing to dance for the camera, but if he did this, no one in the industry would ever take him seriously again. Like ever!
“No. I can’t do it.”
“Max, wait a minute. Let’s talk about this. The executives discussed this, and they really think it will help ratings.”
“My ratings are just fine. As a matter of fact, I have the best ratings in Charlotte. How would me dressing up like a turkey improve that? I mean look at this costume! It’s degrading. The thing has tail feathers. No way am I wearing it.”
“Come on man. My ass is on the line with this one. Do it for me.”
“I’m sorry, Reggie. You know I like you, but not even Jesus himself could get me into that getup. A man has his pride.”
Reggie had the nerve to roll his eyes and huff, as if Max was inconveniencing him.
“Are you going to let your pride get you fired?”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not so much a threat than a suggestion. If I were you, I would put on the damn costume.”
“Well, you’re not me and I am not doing it. Not now, not ever!”
“Man don’t do this to me. The execs are riding my ass about this.”
“Reggie, let me ask you this, and I want you to be honest. Would you put that thing on and stand in front of thousands of people who expect you to provide accurate weather?”
After taking a deep breath, the man tucked his head and shook it. He couldn’t even look Max in the eye when he gave his answer. It was said so low, Max had trouble hearing him.
“No, Max, I wouldn’t.”
“That’s what I thought. I have spent years dancing for the people on demand. It has been eating at my soul for a while now, but I continue to do it out of loyalty, but this, I can’t do. Tell me this. Who’s idea was it?”
“I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’ve always been nice to me. Aisha came up with the idea. She pitched it Mr. Michaels and he went for it. Truthfully, I think he has a crush on her and will do anything she asks, but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“Thank you for being honest, Reggie. Aisha has it out for me. She thinks I don’t know, but she wants my spot as chief meteorologist. Well, she’s about to get her wish.”
Max snatched the stupid costume from Reggie’s hand and marched his way to Mr. Michael’s office. He was so angry he didn’t even think about what he was about to do. Acting on pure emotion. He marched into the man’s office without knocking, flung the turkey across his desk and started yelling.
“If you think I am wearing this on air you are crazier than I thought. I didn’t spend years studying weather to end up looking like a fool on television. No respectable meteorologist would wear this thing!”
“Good thing you’re not respectable.”
The high-pitched voice came from behind him. He spun around to see his rival, Aisha sitting on the couch. Fuck!Why was she here? Max turned on her to give her a piece of his mind, when Mr. Michaels spoke up.
“Now you just wait a damn minute, Shine. You will wear this costume on air, and you will like it. I am the boss and I say what goes on around here.”
“You may be the boss of this company, but you aren’t the boss of me. Not any longer.”
Mr. Michaels moved like he was going to put hands on Max, obviously underestimating his power.
“Touch me and I’ll shove that turkey so far up your ass, you’ll be gobbling in your sleep. Fuck you and fuck this bitch who wants my job.” He turned to Aisha. “You can have fun looking like a clown on air. How’s that for cultural appropriation?”
Then he turned on his heels and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind him. He heard the glass door shatter in his wake, and he smirked. This would be the last time he would ever play the fool for a station. If people couldn’t respect him, then they could kiss his ass.
He made his way to the breakroom searching for an empty box. Where the hell could he find one? It seemed like a box always materialized out of nowhere in the movies in these situations. He marched into the copy room and still couldn’t find one. He decided to make one after seeing the stacks of copy paper in the corner. He dumped the unopened case of paper on the floor and took the box. Then he marched to his desk to gather his belongings.
By the time he made it to his desk, two huge security guards were waiting for him. They allowed him to gather his things before escorting him out of the building.
“Max, I sure am sorry about this. Mr. Michaels said to escort you out of the building, but you’ve always been nice to me. Go ahead and collect your stuff but make it quick.”
“Thanks Gerald. I appreciate that. I won’t be but a minute.”
He shoved the awards, his framed quote about clouds, and all of his personal belongings into the box. He topped it off with his degrees that he pulled off the wall of his cubicle. Unlike most in the office, there were no framed family portraits to claim. He held his head high as he was marched away from the only job he loved. As per usual, the groundhog heads popped up and down watching him take his final walk down the aisle. It was then that it hit him. What had he done?
