Date: Fri, 29 Sep 2017 16:04:48 -0400
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR SUMMER     Chapter  4

DYLAN'S SUMMER FOLLOWING HIS COLLEGE JUNIOR YEAR


Chapter   4


by  Donny Mumford


Monday my alarm goes off at six-thirty. That's earlier than I ever got up
for summer jobs in past years but this is the first summer I'll be using
public transportation. Even though I showered last night I'll take another
one as a trial-run to see how long it takes on a normal morning to get
ready for work. Brushing my teeth after the shower I'm looking at myself in
the mirror over the sink and thinking how this haircut from Robby makes me
look younger, which may or may not work to my advantage on the job. Or,
another way for me to look at it is I'm merely a summer employee hired to
do a one-time job so it's likely no one will give a shit one way or the
other about my friggin' haircut.

I'm anxious to find out what it is I'll be doing at work when I get
there. I know it's an office job in any case, so I'm moving on up from my
former laborer status. Dressed in pressed khakis, white dress-shirt and
tie, I check my watch and see it's five-minutes-after-seven. Huh, getting
ready took longer than I expected. When Rob was driving me to and from work
it didn't matter if it took me five minutes longer because he'd wait for
me... the bus won't. On my way to the kitchen I'm looking at the bus
schedule. Some idiot must have worked overtime making this damn
schedule-chart as complicated as possible!

After dropping a K-cup of Dunkin' Donuts Breakfast Brew into the Keurig
coffee-maker, I go to get medium cream from the refrigerator and see a note
from Mom taped to the door. Aww, she probably thinks I'm a little nervous
about my first day at a new job, and I am. In past years I knew what to
expect on the lawn-cutting crew and I knew at least some of my
coworkers. Plus, my boss was Rob so that was a nice security blanket but
now I'm totally on my own and probably won't even see Rob at work. I'd have
thought my experiences in Georgia the first half of last summer would
prepare me for almost anything, but I guess not because I'm still
nervous. And, oh fuck, thinking about Georgia makes me think of Ryan. Yeah
I kinda miss him although he apparently doesn't miss me. It's been over
four months since he left and not even a text message from him. I texted
him but got no reply. Can't dwell on that though, I've got other things I
need to be thinking about right now.

Mom's note reads, 'Good luck on your first day, Sweetheart. You'll be
terrific! I made lunch for you last night. It's behind the milk." Well
isn't that nice of Mom! I move the bottles of milk and take out the plastic
bag of lunch. As much as I teased Pony about taking his backpack
everywhere, I'll be doing that on work days. It's a good place to carry my
lunch. Also I've put my laptop and a rain slicker with a hood in the
backpack to be prepared for rainy days waiting for the bus or walking the
quarter-mile from the bus stop to the office in the rain. Also in the
backpack is an extra pack of cigarettes and the latest book I'm reading, as
well as some ballpoint pens and breath mints. The book's in there for the
likely event I'll be eating lunch alone. It's good to have something to
read when eating alone so I don't feel as conspicuous. People will
think... oh, the new guy likes to read during his lunch break. Ya know,
it's like I could eat lunch with friends here at work but I prefer reading,
assuming I had any friends there which I don't. Of course a newspaper would
work as well as the book.

Looking through the plastic bag of lunch I see there's two chicken salad
sandwiches along with an Honey Crisp apple, a small bag of Lay's potato
chips, and a big-ass chocolate-chip cookie. Huh, good lunch! I hope there's
a refrigerator in the department I'm working in. After sticking a large
Snapple in the backpack I write a note for Mom, 'Thanks for the lunch, Mom!
Love ya!' and tape it to the refrigerator door for when she gets up.

I'm too nervous to eat anything so I skip breakfast except for a mug of
coffee that I drink sitting at the kitchen bar once again verifying that
I've correctly deciphered the bus schedule. There's columns of tiny numbers
indicating times that certain buses will be at various stops depending the
bus line and day of the week. Jesus! If I'm reading this correctly a bus
arrives at the condo bus stop at seven-twenty and then every forty-minutes
after that; or is it every twenty-minutes? The bus ride to the stop I'll
get off at for work takes eighteen to twenty-minutes, if it's on time. Huh,
that means the seven-twenty bus will get me to the work bus stop about
seven-forty and then it's a quarter-mile walk to the office. So how long
will it take me to walk a quarter mile? Balls, I should have figured all
this out before this morning. I had every intention of doing that but kept
putting it off. Okay, I'll simply Google how long it takes to walk a
quarter mile. And of course the answer pops right up in .010 seconds. It's
says an average-size man will take 555 steps in a quarter mile which
equates to about a five-minute walk. Only five-minutes!

Work begins at eight-thirty so if I get the seven-twenty I should be at the
office twenty-five minutes later, assuming everything is on schedule and I
don't sprain an ankle or break a leg during the quarter-mile walk. Yeah,
but that puts me in the office forty-five minutes before work starts. Balls
to that! The next bus comes, let me see. Yes, it is forty-minutes later,
meaning I'd barely make it to the office by eight-thirty. The bus before
that one is an express that goes by my bus stop but won't stop
there. Idiotic! It appears the fickle finger of fate has conspired to fuck
me up bus-schedule-wise. It's like a conspiracy to fuck with my
head. Should I get to work forty-five minutes early or have a
heart-pounding experience every morning just barely getting to work by
eight-thirty?  Dammit, I guess I need to take the seven-twenty bus. Yeah,
except that's what time it is right now! I run over to the window and watch
for a few seconds and sure enough there goes the fucking bus on Center
Street below our condos. Balls!

Tapping my finger on the windowsill and nodding my head, I'm thinking,
'Nice, really nice first day on the job, Dylan!'  Sitting on a stool at the
kitchen bar again I sip on my coffee feeling like an ass. Rob would never
be in this kind of predicament. He'd have figured this shit out four days
ago. Well, all is not lost. The five-after-eight bus gets me to my work bus
stop around eight-twenty-five and if I run from the bus stop I'll be at
work on time with one or two minutes to spare. Of course I'll be dripping
with sweat after running my ass of for a quarter-mile.

To double-check, I go through my backpack again to make sure I have
everything I'll need, and then think: my wallet! Jesus, I was going to
leave the house without money. That'd be just great, getting on the bus and
telling the bus driver, 'Oh I forgot to bring money'. After getting my
wallet I take an antacid tablet to sooth my upset stomach and then mostly
just stare at my watch until it's time to leave the house. Wait a second!
Where the hell's my cellphone? Going through my backpack I find it exactly
where I put it fifteen minutes ago. It's in the pocket of the backpack for
that specific purpose. Leaving for the bus stop ten-minutes early I figure
why take any chance of missing the bus.

I'm the only one here so I sit on the bench and then get right up and light
a cigarette feeling nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Not
a new metaphor but it always make me grin picturing that scenario. Oh balls
here comes someone. Well, did I expect to be the only one on the bus?
Goddammit I hope no one is the cheery-good-morning type. Chit-chatting
small-talk with strangers is not my thing. If Chub were here he would have
total strangers on a first name basis and laughing within two minutes. I
walk away from the bench a couple of feet to discourage any possible
conversation. A quick glance at the man approaching the bus stop reveals a
middle aged man with a mustache and an expression on his face like he got
up on the wrong side of the bed. Why would getting up on the wrong side of
the bed be a problem though? Fifty-feet behind mustache-man is a fat-ass
lady talking loudly on her cellphone. How'd anyone make it through the day
before cellphones?

The mustache-man sits on the bench giving me a nasty look. Is it my
cigarette? Looking around and oh balls, there's a prominent NO SMOKING sign
on the pole with the bus line's logo. Walking away another ten steps I turn
my back to the bus stop thinking nasty thoughts about mustache-man. The
fat-ass lady walks a couple of steps past the bus stop bench still shrilly
talking on her cellphone. From the other direction another lady is walking
towards us. She could be a homeless person if the raggedy-ass clothes she's
wearing is any indication. Oh fuck, she walks by me closer than necessary
muttering curse words under her breath and leaving a bad body-odor scent in
her wake. I puff on the cigarette walking a few more feet away. This is
torture.

The homeless woman walks right on by the bus stop and the fat lady is
mercifully done her cellphone conversation. I hear the mustache-man say,
"Another Monday morning, huh, Alice?" In her shrill voice the fat-ass lady
says, "Yeah, Ernie, there's a Monday at the beginning of every week," and
she giggles. Oh man! I check again to be sure I've got the correct amount
of money for the bus ride in my hand and then take a last drag off my
cigarette and step on the butt wondering where the fuck's the bus? Tapping
a foot nervously I'm looking in the direction the bus will come from, but
no sign of it yet. That fucking bus better be on time or I'm screwed!
Checking my wristwatch for the tenth time, seeing it's eight-o-four now
and, oh good, here comes the bus. I take a couple of steps towards the bus
stop bench but don't get too close to Ernie or Alice. It's a fairly new bus
so when it comes to a stop the front-end of the bus lowers and the doors
open with a swish sound. Naturally I wait for mustache-man and the fat-ass
lady to get on the bus first. When fat ass is up the three steps, I follow
and the doors close behind me, "Swoosh".

Alice puts money in the big contraption next to the bus driver and says to
him, "G'morning, Gus!" The super-bored-looking bus driver glances at her
and barely nods his head. He's a big black dude, apparently not thrilled
about being a bus driver. I don't blame him. Fat ass waddles down the aisle
saying 'G'morning, Fran,' to a woman with too much make-up on who's sitting
next to the window five rows of seats down. Fat-ass plops down next to
Fran. I drop the correct amount in the slot and sway a little grabbing one
of the metal poles for balance as the bus pulls away.

Glancing down the long row of seats I see everyone is sitting by themselves
except for Fran and Alice. No one appears happy to be here but they all
seem to be minding their own business, which is excellent! Walking slowly
down the aisle looking for an empty seat, preferably one without someone
across the aisle from me. Then I almost gasp because four rows down sits a
sexy young guy looking at, what else, his cellphone. I'm past him so
quickly I only have a fleeting idea of his looks and age. He could be too
young for me but from what my quick glance tells me he's potentially a rare
one of the cute young-male variety. The seat behind him is empty so I swing
onto that seat.

Damn, it'd be great to have someone to glance at and fantasize about during
my morning bus rides. I should have sat across from him but I couldn't
think fast enough. The backs of the seats are too high for me to see in
front of me but I can see a partial view of him reflected off the window
next to him. He does look young, and with what looks like the same haircut
Robby gave me, only the kid's hair is dark brown and longer than
mine. Tomorrow, assuming he rides this bus every morning, I'll sit across
from him. If the bus was more crowded I'd have an excuse to sit next to him
but my stop is only the fourth stop on this line so it's not crowded
yet. Well, ha ha, I'm stupidly happy that kid is on this bus; it gives the
bus ride a positive vibe. In addition to that, bus rides in general often
give me a boner from the swaying motion and the way they stop and start.

The next stop is only like three minutes from my stop. Oh fuck, there are
maybe a dozen people waiting to get on. It takes a couple of minutes for
them all to get on and pay. Now there's talking and people are beginning to
double-up on seating. I slide my backpack on the seat next to me and stare
very hard out the window as people walk down the aisle looking for a
seat. No one asks me to move my backpack and after a five-minute ride the
bus comes to another stop with even more people waiting to get on than the
last stop. I look at my watch wondering if the bus is on schedule.

I luck out again and no one sits next to me. Ha, no one has the balls to
ask me to move my backpack. The next stop there are people getting off
before people can get on. Lots of people get on and a lady sits next to my
boy in front of me and then I sense someone hesitating next to me before
moving on. Asshole! I'm staring hard out the window again and now someone
is standing next to my backpack making a huffy sound before moving on
further back in the bus. Good, but I'm starting to sweat. Who knew all this
tension would pop-up during a bus ride to work.

There's another stop and as we get closer to downtown more and more people
get off with even more getting on. I have two stops to go; it's the stop
before Framingham center on the outskirts of downtown. People are moving
down the aisle again and I'm thinking 'Keep fucking moving' until I hear a
man says, "Would you please move your backpack?" Is he talking to me? Of
course he is so I pull my backpack onto my lap, mumbling, "Sorry," without
looking at him. As soon as he sits down I smell his overwhelmingly strong
aftershave lotion, or maybe it's cologne. It's enough to gag me, plus he
has a smelly Globe newspaper that he spreads out almost past my
shoulder. Jesus, some people! I've got the back of my hand to my nose
thinking how much shittier this ride will be on a rainy day when everyone's
damp clothing will be smelling bad, not to mention the umbrellas dripping
rain water. Oh man...

Okay this is the stop before mine. Hmmm, should I get up and walk to the
front of the bus now or wait until the bus stops? Contemplating that I
hear, "Excuse me, this is my stop coming up," and it's the voice of the kid
in front of me sliding past the woman who sat next to him. Cute sounding
voice on that kid, and he gets off at my stop! I glance at the
newspaper-reading man next to me. Oh my God he's a big dude,
forty-something-years-old with that four-day beard growth that must be
mandatory nowadays. I clear my throat and sort of make a standing motion
but this doofus doesn't pick-up on the idea I want to get past him. I go,
"Excuse me," as I halfway stand and he gives me an irritated 'look' so I
say more forcefully than I intended, "I need to get off at this stop! Sorry
to inconvenience you." He makes another face while partially moving his
legs toward the aisle. Asshole! I squeeze past his long bony knees and,
dammit, someone got out of their seat and is between me and the kid. If the
jerk-off sitting next to me had moved when I first hinted I could
have... oh fuck it.

There's six of us getting off at this stop and when the kid gets off he
walks in the opposite direction I'll be going. And now the dumb-ass in
front of me is asking a question of the bus driver so when I finally manage
to get off the bus the kid is half a block away... in the opposite
direction I'm going. Why does shit like this always happen to me? The kid
looks to be about my size. Now if he's age appropriate maybe I'll sit next
to him tomorrow morning.

With my backpack bouncing off my back I run the quarter-mile to the
office. When I first worked for the Dickers Company it had a longer name
and there was only a couple of buildings but now there's a new, much larger
main office building along with the ones that were here four years
ago. There's also a lot of new businesses and offices built-up around the
Dickers & Son property which Rob's father bought thirty years ago for a lot
less per acre I'd imagine than it sells for today. Smart business
man... maybe. I jog right through the main entrance and stop at the
reception desk with sweat on my forehead and me generally feeling
uncomfortably warm. The lady at the desk is on the phone as she looks
quizzically up at me. I smile and she smiles back, so that's encouraging.

I stand here sort of moving my feet like... what the fuck lady? She gets
off the phone and asks, "Can I help you?" I go, "Yes, this is my first day
of work. I'm a summer, um, employee, ha ha, whatever ya call...," and she
nods, "Okay, swell for you. What can I do for you?" I go, "Well, um, I'm
supposed to be at Human Resources, um, is it in this building?" When I
worked here last year Rob took me in through another door so I don't know
the building's layout. She points to the corridor on her left, saying,
"Yes, you're in the right building. Um, you've already been hired, you
say?" I nod, "Yes, I filled-out the papers online." She goes, "Well, um,
okay if you say so. You look a little young, that's all I meant. Anyway,
Human Resources is halfway down the hall on your right. Look for the sign
and good luck, young man." Huh, I nod muttering, "Thanks," and walk swiftly
down the hall. What'd she think, I'd lie about being hired? Did she suppose
I was sneaking in an office building because I thought it'd be fun? Jesus!

When I go through the door for Human Resources I see the big clock on the
wall tick to exactly eight-thirty. This is a big room, not an office like
they have on the floor Rob's on. There are computer work stations
back-to-back laid-out on two long work tables; enough places for ten people
with everyone having a computer and big monitors that sort of provides some
limited privacy. There are six people here presently, but no one is
working. They all have coffees and donuts and none of them is paying me any
attention, so yeah, it's awkward just standing here.

This is a bright room with windows across the back wall and everything in
here looks new. It looks like a nice, roomie place to work. I do a couple
of fake coughs and finally a lady about thirty-years-old wearing slacks and
a red blouse with sneakers on her feet walks up to me and says, "Are you
lost?" I give her my really good smile, one that's been known to have very
positive effects on people although this lady seems to be keeping her
excitement level under control, so to her question, 'Am I lost?', I say, "I
hope not. I'm a summer, um, employee." She asks, "Who hired you?" I shrug,
blushing now as I mumble, "Um, I filled out the papers online yesterday. I
didn't actually talk to anyone specifically." What am I supposed to
say... 'My boyfriend got the job for me'? She snorts out a laugh and then
says, "Janette. Would you come over here for a second, please?"

Janette is older with a large mole at the corner of her mouth. I try not to
stare at it as she asks the first lady, "Who is this handsome fellow, Kay?"
Kay says, "He says he's summer help for Human Resources. Do you know
anything about that?" She shrugs, "No, but I hope he'll be working with
us. I'll call, Baxter," and she asks me, "What's your name, hon?" I tell
her and she pick up the closest phone. Janette says, "Um, you look very
nice, Dylan, but if you're going to be working for us you can lose the tie
or you'll make the rest of us look bad," and she smiles, touching my arm,
adding, "Make yourself a cup of coffee." She points to a table with a
Keurig machine and an open box of donuts. I don't really want another cup
of coffee, but I mumble, "Thank you," and go over and get another cup
anyway, as if my stomach isn't upset enough already.

I'm sort of leaning against the wall still wearing my backpack thinking I
should take out my cellphone and pretend I'm reading text messages or
something. A man comes in the room at eight-forty and behind him a youngish
woman. She immediately joins the group of women with Kay and they laugh
about something while glancing over at me. The man's wearing the
dress-uniform of management; a dark suit, white shirt and striped tie. He
looks at the computer tablet he's holding and then glances up at
me. Holding out his hand and, with a big fake smile, he says, "You must be
Dylan Newman." I nod, "Yes, I am," and we shake hands once as he's saying,
"I'm Bill Baxter, manager of Human Resources. Why didn't you come to my
office directly?" I say, "I didn't know exactly where to go." He's like,
"Remind me, Dylan, if you would, who exactly was it who hired you?" I say,
"Mr. Dickers," hoping he'll thinks I mean Rob's father. He goes, "Oh yes,
now I remember." Liar!

I've already forgotten his name as he pats my shoulder smiling his fake
smile again, saying, "It's wonderful having you on board for the summer!
You'll be working with my special op's guy, Carl Tremblay." I look at him
with a blank expression on my face so he asks, "Um, is that your
understanding? That you'll be working with Carl?" I go, "Not specifically,
but probably." He looks at his tablet again where he sees my name and
probably wondering how it got there. Apparently someone needs to work with
this Tremblay guy so this guy glances around the room and, not finding any
answers there, he goes, "Why don't you bring your coffee and I'll introduce
you to Carl." Unless a woman is named 'Carl' we'll need to go someplace
else for the introduction because there's only women in this room.

Sure enough he goes out the door with me following him. He says, "Carl will
supervise your project, so report directly to him each morning," and we go
through the very next door to a much smaller room with one window and two
work stations. The manager says, "I'm almost positive you'll work out of
here but feel free to use the coffee and snack area next door. Carl will
fill you in," and he looks around and chuckles, adding, "When he gets here
that is."

I'm wondering if it's possible for this to get anymore awkward than it's
already been as this manager-guy checks his watch, clears his throat and
mumbles, "He should be here any minute now. We," and he does a fake
chuckle, "We all try to be on time so please don't take this as an example
of how things normally work around here, er," and he looks at his tablet
again to get my name, adding, "Dylan." I go, "Oh, ha, sure," without
knowing what I mean by that, never mind him knowing what I meant. He
doesn't appear to care what I meant.

There's ten seconds of silence and then he asks, "Do you have plans for
college, Dylan? I'm assuming you've graduated, right?" It's almost
understandable that he has no idea who I am or who hired me. I say, "Um,
well yes. I graduated high school three years ago. I'll be a senior at
Merrimack College this fall." He has this surprised expression on his face,
mumbling, "Really? I would never have..." and then an odd-looking character
comes in through the open door, saying, "Bill, that damn route 128 was
backed-up again. Construction near route 30." Bill says sarcastically, with
forced jocularity, "Goodafternoon, Bill. Your summer boy is here." This odd
creature glances at me as if he didn't notice me when he came in. His
eyebrows go up and he looks startles as he mumbles to me, "Well aren't you
something," and then turns his attention back to Bill, "He'll be working on
the employee introductions to the revised benefit program, I'm assuming."
Bill almost shrugs but catches himself, and says, "Robert hired him and,
yes, I'm almost certain the new benefit package is why." He turns to me,
"You're a relative of Mr. Dickers, are you?" I no, "No, just a friend of
the family." He goes, "That's awesome, son!"

The manager's irritated and I can't say I blame him. He takes it out on
Carl by showing a forced a half-smile, saying, "We all know about the route
30 construction, Carl. It's been going on for a few months now. You might
want to leave the house a little earlier because of it." Carl bobs his head
at his manager, and the manager adds, "Well enough said about that. I'm
sure you want to get started with your boy, um, young man, Dylan Newland,
and that new benefits project." Newland? He's apparently on par with me as
far as remembering names go. Carl and I shake hands briefly as he says,
"Good to meet you, Dylan." Turning to me, Bill says, "I'll leave you in
Carl's capable hands and, um, welcome to Dickers & Son." Annoyed at how
unprofessional this has been, I tell him, 'Oh, full disclosure,
asshole. I'm having anal sex with the owner's son. That's how I got this
job, and just so ya know... I could probably get your ass fired if I put my
mind to it.' Not really, I don't actually say that. I say, "Thank you, nice
to be working here."

Carl and I watch the manager leave and then Carl mutters, "What a dink,"
and then to me, "Whatever he told you forget immediately. You'll probably
never see him again anyway. I'm the only person you need to impress and I
impress easily. And I know your name isn't Newland like numb-nuts said. It
was cool of you not to correct him." I nod, not knowing what the right
thing to say to that might be.

Carl is not a good-looking dude. He looks like someone who tried to swallow
something too big for his throat. He's prematurely lost a lot of his hair
too, way too much for a guy I'd guess is in his late twenties. He's
obviously had some single hair restoration done in the form of a shallow
widow's peak forming a high forehead. The transplanted black hairs he's let
grow for a very long time and they're pulled tightly from the widow's peak
across the top of his head partially covering the mostly bald top, and then
the transplanted hairs joins with the thick horseshoe of naturally-growing
hair on the sides and back of his longish head to form a stubby
ponytail. It takes a concerted effort on my part not to let my eyes drift
up to look at his odd hairdo.

He has a prominent Adam's apple too and it bobs up and down when he
swallows. He's wearing big black-rimmed glasses supported by a too-small
nose and he's taller than me and quite thin. There's a bump at the middle
of Carl's forehead that I'm guessing is part of his face and not the result
of him bumping into something. He's wearing a baggy shirt that too big for
him and it bunches at the belt. His khakis look like they just came out of
the dryer and they droop low on his waist and then pile on the top of his
desert boots. Like the lady told me when I walked in the Human Resources
department... I definitely won't need the tie.

Carl talks in bursts and although he's odd-looking I'm hoping I'll find
something likable about him. He seems honest and sincere and obviously
totally himself. He says, "That work space," and he points to a modest
computer station, adding, "Was recently set-up for you although you'll need
to work out of the office quite a bit as well, I suppose." I nod and he
asks, "Hey, do you know the joke about two cannibals eating a clown?" I go,
"And one cannibal asks the other, 'Does this taste funny to you?" He goes,
"Oh, you heard it before." I go, "No, I guessed the punch line," and Carl
does a rather odd, "Heh heh heh heh," kind of laugh.

He says, "Let's sit here at my desk and I'll go over what you'll be doing
for the next three months. The overview is this: Dickers & Son has
completely redone the employees' benefits package with different carriers,
lower co-pays, and our IRA plan is being replaced by a better 401 (k)
plan. The paid vacations and sick days have been upgraded and it's totally
different from what the employees signed-on for when they were hired. You
need to interview every single employee in every department including those
out in the field. This includes to a lesser extent certain part-time
employees who work at least twenty hours a week. Temporary employees like
yourself, for example, or summer lawn-cutting help don't have benefits but
you'll need to interview them anyway to insure they know that. Transparency
is the key. Each individual will need to initial each page of the benefit
package you review so everyone theoretically agrees they understand
it. Then they'll sign the handheld business-class device I'll give you,"
and he picks up a computer device, "And this is it. They sign the screen
after you bring up their name and employee number. They can sign with their
finger or this stick."  Am I supposed to remember all this?

I let out a noisy deep breath, so he goes, "Nobody told you what you'd be
doing, did they?" I say, "No, but that's my fault. I never asked for
details of the job, but I can do this."  He goes, "I know you can, but
first you need to learn the programs before you can explain them to the
employees. There's a five-hour presentation on tutorial videos that you'll
watch today and tomorrow, two or three times each actually. I've studied
this package of benefits myself and it's much better than our old package
so you can be honest when you tell employees it's much improved. Many will
be suspicious the company is out to screw them of course, but that's not
what this is all about at all! If you do a good job of explaining the
improved benefits they'll realize how much better it is. The new benefits
cost the company a lot and it's supposed to be a morale booster so sell it
as a huge positive." I nod again trying to remember the first burst of
information he told me while at the same time dreading the thought of
learning all this benefits shit. I just finished my junior year learning
stuff I'll never use and now this. Yeah, but I'm making $500 a week to
learn this stuff and that makes a big difference!

Carl says, "In case you're wondering what I do. I handle claims for the
health and dental plan. The company's basically self-insured but,
well... it's complicated and employees don't care who pays as long as it's
not them. This project is extra work over and above my already overloaded
work day so I'll expect you to do most of it yourself. But, of course, any
questions you have as you're studying the videos come to me no matter if
you think it might be a dumb question or not." I nod again and mumble,
"Thanks." He asks, "Did you bring a lunch?" I say, "Yeah, it's in my
backpack," and he goes, "There's a refrigerator in the room next door, but
be sure to put your name on your lunch. C'mon, I'll show you." We go to the
room I just left and Carl says 'Good morning' to a number of the women, and
there are now at least ten of them, all working now at whatever it is they
do. There's a room in the back I didn't see before and in that room are
vending machines and a large refrigerator. Carl opens the refrigerator door
and I see all kinds of containers which I assume are lunches. They're all
marked with a name plus there's a note that reads, 'If I catch the bastard
eating my yogurts I'm going to pull his or her tongue out. Sue B.' Carl
chuckles but doesn't comment.

I mark my plastic lunch bag with my name using a magic marker and Carl pats
my shoulder, saying, "Okay, I'll set you up with the videos in the small
meeting room I've reserved for today and tomorrow. Feel free to take breaks
when you need to or come to me with any question you have." As we're
leaving the Human Resources room a youngish blond-headed girl smiles at me
while blatantly staring at me. I frown at her and then outside the room we
walk around a corner and go in a room that Carl tells me is for small
meetings. He shows me how to work the video machine unnecessarily 'cause
who doesn't know how to do that?  I pretend to pay attention and he finally
says, "I'll leave you to it, Dylan. You can eat your lunch in here or at
your work space in the office. That's where you'll consolidate the previous
days interviews and plan for the coming day's interviews."

I'm sure this will sort itself out, but for now I'm totally confused. Carl
says, "Or if you don't want to bring your lunch you can buy it in the
cafeteria. I'll show you where that is whenever you want. Feel free to get
snacks or drinks from the vending machines and, um, well good luck. I'll
check in on you from time to time to make sure you're still awake, heh,
heh, heh," with me staring at his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. I force
a chuckle and he asks, "Do you need anything, or are you ready to tackle
this?" I nod my head, "No, I'm good... for now anyway." He leaves and when
the door closes behind him I'm shaking my head thinking... BALLS!. Sitting
in the chair in front of the video screen I do nothing for a minute. This
has been a fucked-up first forty-five minutes of my new job. Then, with a
resigned sigh, I click on the monitor and music plays as the title for the
first tutorial comes on the screen and a voice says, "Welcome to Dickers &
Son's new benefit package. We'll start by reviewing....". This blows!

After two hours I'm ready to quit the job. The first tutorial is
incomprehensibly boring; it goes on minute after boring minute of seemingly
contradictory statements using legal terms no one except a lawyer
understands. By quarter-of-eleven I shut it off and stagger into Carl's
room. He looks up from his computer, "Whassup, Dylan?" I jerk my thumb in
the direction of the meeting room, asking, "Seriously? That's, um, who
would..." and he holds a hand up, saying, "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's like
heavy-lifting listening to that, but ya gotta listen to it so I can check
off that you did. Two days, sixteen hours' worth of listening and
comprehending. Then there's a computer test to prove you're an expert."  I
hold my hands out, palms up, mumbling, "Really? No way, Carl. I listen to
tutorial number whatever, and then go back concentrating so hard my
eyeballs ache listening to it again and still don't know what I just
heard." He nods, "Yeah, I had to listen and take the computer test myself
before getting certified as supervisor of the transition team. You and I
are the entire team by the way, and as I mentioned already I've got too
much other stuff to do, so it's basically you, when we get right down to
it."

I look at him blankly and he stands, saying, "Let's get a drink."
Shrugging, I go, "Yeah, okay." I'm seriously ready to quit. Again we go to
the first room I was in and a few women look up and one woman mumbles,
"Hey, Carl, whassup?" He goes, "My boy just spent a couple of hours with
that new benefit tutorial and wants to commit suicide." She goes, "I hear
ya. Stick with it, Dylan." How does she remember my name? I smile. What
else can I do? Carl puts a hot chocolate K-cup in the machine. He grins,
quietly saying, "You lasted two hours. That's amazing stamina." Frowning at
him, I'm like, "Whaddaya mean?" He says, "Some of the managers we're
curious and listened to the tutorials as a group last month. With the video
running most of them were in the hall or the cafeteria. They'd go back in
and listen for a while but nobody made it as long as an hour at a time."
I'm really frowning now as I make another cup of coffee that I don't
want. Carl says, "Bring your coffee," and I following him back to his
office.

In his office he holds up a folder, saying, "Here is the folder each
employee needs to initial each page of and then sign the handheld computer
device verifying they understand their benefits. Each page list the
differences in a benefit but without the legalize you're dealing with on
the video. Oh, and don't worry about the test. I've got the answers so
you'll be taking an open book test." I go, "I'll have the answers?" He
nods, "Right in front of you, yes. It's going to be much simpler than
you're thinking it'll be. So go back in there and keep the video
running. Even try to understand what some of it means and then play it
again tomorrow. You'll pick-up stuff that will surprise you. Then I'll go
over this much simpler and understandable folder of changes until you feel
comfortable with it."

I'm feeling better now that I know I'm only watching and listening to the
videos so Carl can honestly say I did. If I learn anything, so much the
better. Carl says, "And seriously, they'll only be five-to-ten-percent of
the employee who will question anything. They'll be anxious to get through
your presentation and sign anything indicating that they understand the
changes. It's an excellent employee benefit package and better than the
very good one they have right now. The new benefits start on September
first so you'll have plenty of time to personally visit with all three
hundred employees." I go, "Why can't we do it in groups?" He shrugs, "No
reason really, other than Robert wants it done this way." I'm pretty sure
he means Rob's father. I nod, "Okay," and get up and carry my coffee back
to the meeting room.

Around one o'clock I eat lunch in the meeting room and then walk back to my
work space in Carl's room looking out the window. Jeez, it looks like a
really nice day out there. Fuck, I'm kinda wishing I was out there yucking
it up with guys on the grass-cutting crew. At the end of those days there
was this macho feeling about working on the crew. It's like I did laborer's
work and could see the results before my eyes. We left the properties look
really good. With a sigh I go back to the small meeting room and turn the
video back on to try earning my pay by paying attention. One-thirty to
four-thirty takes what seemed like ten hours, but I finally turn off the
video and leave my jail cell. People I don't know are bustling around
getting ready to leave as I look in on Carl and, not seeing him, I shrug to
myself and walk out of the building. My first torturous day is over! Better
days ahead, hopefully.

Walking, not jogging, to the bus stop I wonder if my mystery boy will be
taking this same bus back home. Then I pull my backpack around in front and
take out the bus schedule to see how long of a wait I'll have for the
bus. My cellphone beeps before I can figure out the next bus. It's Rob! He
goes, "Hey, boyfriend," and damn it's so nice hearing his voice. I go, "Hi,
Robby! Whassup?" He say, "Can you find my office? I'll give you a ride
home." I tell him I'm at my bus stop and he says he'll pick me up
there. Huh, there's no one at the bus stop which tells me a bus isn't
coming along anytime soon. Sitting on the bench waiting for Rob I try
reading the schedule again and it looks like there's a ten-of-five bus at
this stop. There was one at four-twenty and then during rush hour they come
every half-hour. Nothing's really working-out for me bus-wise. Or maybe
people get used to waiting twenty minutes for a bus. Or maybe I'm just a
complainer who can't believe bus timetables aren't arranged to accommodate
moi.

When I see Rob's pickup at the corner red-light I get this stupidly happy
feeling like, I'm back to reality... my reality of things accommodating me
again. Rob pulls up smiling like mad and I get in feeling so much
better. Pulling away, he asks the obvious, "So, how'd your first day go,
babe?" I'm like, "Well it couldn't have been any better, Rob. A cupcake of
a job if ever there was one." He laughs out loud and then goes,
"Bull-shit. I was curious and checked with that pompous ass, Baxter, in
personnel, or excuse me, Human Resources. He told me to see Carl, who told
me what was expected of you and about the test and all. Holy shit, I felt
bad. My poor, Dylan, what did I get him into?" I go, "Ah, fuck it. My
supervisor has my back. I need to survive one more day of horrendous
tutorial videos but then Carl will show me what I really need to know, and
it's like one-tenth of what's on the video." Rob's like, "So it's only you
and Carl Tremblay?" I nod, and Rob says, "He's kind of an odd duck,
although I don't know him well at all." I go, "I'm trying to like him
okay."

I ask how Rob's day went and he goes, "Well, I'm adjusting to a bad
situation that's developed with my office mate, who happens to be the
overbearing, Max Renoldie. He's a pushy fucker." I go, "How do you mean?"
and Rob goes, "He rearranged the office furniture over the weekend. Now he
has the main space and my desk is in the corner. I asked him what the fuck
he thinks he's doing and he tells me the only reason I still have space in
an office is because he talked Walt Springs into letting me keep my desk
there." I go, "Who's Walt Springs?" Rob looks a little flustered, saying,
"He's the asshole operations manager in charge of buildings, equipment, and
furnishings. Shit like that. Supposedly he wants me out on the open space
where there's no assigned desk. There's computer stations at long tables
and it's a first-come first-served sort of thing. You get there early to
get a good station near a window or whatever." I go, "Why don't you get
your Dad to intervene?" Rob shakes his head slowly, "That's the worst thing
I could do. No, I still have my desk in an office but now it's Max's office
and he's allowing me to share it with him. I'll have my day, Dylan, but
right now I'm basically summer staff as far as Walt's concerned. Max was in
the old building but they're rearranging office space. He's actually being
nice letting me stay in the office with him." I ask, "Who's name is on the
door?" and Rob goes, "His." I leave it at that.

As we drive onto my street Rob asks about the bus ride and I tell it's okay
and describe my experience without mentioning the cute guy on the bus, who
I may sit with tomorrow. Rob goes, "I can drive you tomorrow," and I go,
"Thanks, but I want to get used to a morning schedule. I'm going to take
the same bus tomorrow, ya know, to get used to a routine. My other option
is a bus forty-five minutes earlier." He goes, "Guess I shouldn't have
offered you a ride home, huh?" I go, "I'm glad you did! This ride home is
much appreciated." He goes, "Oh good because I was thinking we could check
out your bedroom again." I go, "We can do that, sure," as my dick
tightens-up. Before getting in Robby's pick-up there wasn't a single other
thing about today that I felt was remotely sexy; nothing! No one to flirt
with or fantasize about... no cute or sexy guys, period! Well hell, I
didn't see hardly anyone all day anyway. I'll begin seeing a lot of people
the day after tomorrow though.

In the condo we both get Cokes and have a cigarette on the balcony while
drinking the sodas. Rob looks so handsome in his suit and tie. Then I try
remembering where my tie is. Oh yeah, it's in my back pack. I tell Rob
about that manager-guy thinking I just graduated high school. Rob goes,
"High school? What the fuck?" and then, "Your hair's messed up, babe. Let
me..." and he takes his pocket comb out, saying, "Stand still," and he
tries re-combing my hair. Looking serious he combs it this way and that,
then says, "Your manager is Bill Baxter. His high school misconception,
Dylan, is partially due to this haircut. It does take a couple of years off
your age." I'm like, "What? You said it didn't," and Rob chuckles, "Yeah,
but now I think it does... and I like it." Rob has the neat regular haircut
I gave him with bangs combed over and he's looking so professional in his
suit I feel like jumping him. I like when he looks and acts the businessman
part. Plus he's so fucking hunky and good-looking. He asks, "Why are you
looking at me like that?" I go, "Like what?" He flicks my bangs up and then
pats them down a little and then gives the back of my neck a squeeze,
saying, "If I didn't know better I'd think you had the hots for me." I go,
"Dream on," and we both drop our cigarette butts and then Rob grabs my arm
pulling me inside.

I take a deep breath, muttering, "Whoa," and inside the sliding glass doors
we get into a hot make-out; it's like we haven't seen each other for
months. Well, we didn't see each yesterday then all day today, so... We're
groping each other and sucking face.  I don't even think about topping as
I'm quickly aroused and desperate for Rob to fuck me hard and fast. We make
our way to my bedroom kissing and groping. In the bedroom I undo his tie as
he's dropping his suit jacket on the unmade bed. With our mouths still
together he's unbuttoning his shirt and that gets dropped on his suit
coat. We unbuckle each other's belts and then pull our pants down and step
out of them. Rob turns me around and smacks my ass hard, "SMACK!SMACK!" and
then pushes me face first against the bed. With one of his knees on my ass
holding me down he grabs the lubricant. A gob of it goes on his finger and
then his finger goes up my ass as I'm awkwardly stroking my hardening cock
that's under me. Rob rubs the lube around inside and outside my asshole and
then takes his finger out, muttering, "C'mon, baby, suck my dick." Sliding
back off the bed I turn around getting on my knees and take his already
firm cock in my mouth and suck his dick into a wicked hard boner in less
than a minute. He's smears some lube on his cock mixing it with his
pre-cum, gasps and then mumbles, "Turn around." I turn around on my knees
lifting up to rest my hands on the bed while pushing my ass out trembling
with anticipation. Rob thrusts his cock head at my asshole and the hard
slippery head spreads the anus lips as I hold my breath against the
hurt. It goes halfway in and he pulls it out with me going, "Aaaah! Fuck
me, Robby." The extent of our arousal is nuts. It just sort of exploded on
us.

His hands are spreading my butt cheeks and then BAM in goes the head again
and this time it bullies it's way right past my sphincter muscle. Lubricant
is awesome! Rob smacks my ass as he humps the rest of his super-fat hard
cock up inside me with my back arching, and me groaning, "Aaaah!" Hurts
yeah, but it hurts so goooood! Rob smacks my ass hard again, "Smack!
Smack!" as he humps against my buttock, then another, "SMACK!" and another
hump against me that pushes me onto the bed, my boner again up flat against
my belly. Leaving his fat erection up my ass, Rob kicks my legs apart and
then gets them really spread and then pulls his cock back to rams it right
back in but harder this time. I moan at the intense pleasure that's
overtaken the hurt. Another hard, "SMACK!" of his hand on my ass and now
I'm feeling properly dominated for sure. My butt cheeks stinging and hot. I
lie docilely on the bed, my head swimming with the submissive sexual
pleasure of it all. Rob grunts with the effort of doing a half-dozen hard
thrust followed by that extra thrust and lift that raises my ass a little.

My cock is a stone-hard under me throbbing in its hardness as Rob starts
going at it fast and furious now, "Slapslapslapslap," sounds as I'm bounced
on the mattress and this wild hard fucking continues for maybe a minute
before he takes hold of my hands that I have near my head and pulls my arms
back and up while still humping his cock up my ass, "Slapslsapslap,"
lifting my arms further and the submissive trance intensifies as I feel my
climax ready to blow. He gets his strong right hand around both my wrists,
and oh fuck, I feel so submissive I get that floating sensation. This
explosion of rough sex from Robby has taken me by surprise and my climax
burst upon me with my back arches and every muscle in my body contracting
as I flop up off the bed an inch-or-so, "Eeeeeiiiii!" with cum bursting
from my cock in a long streak that gets cut off under me when I drop back
on the mattress and it feels all warm and creamy on my stomach and
chest. It's all blackness and beauty as lying flat on the bed another hard
stream of cum shoots out from my stone-penis going nowhere as my body
sizzles with incredible sensation. The pleasure sensations around my groin
are almost painful. And then it's mostly over already leaving me shuddering
and moaning at the intense pleasure that fades, fades, and fades some more
and then vanishes completely. I tremble for a few seconds as reality come
roaring back into my brain and I'm back from never-never land hearing the
grunts of Robby along with the, "Slapslapslap," sounds of his crotch
smacking against my ass jostling me on the mattress.

My eyes are half closed as I docilely lie here still enjoying Rob's boner
being hammered up my ass while I marvel at my latest climax. Rob's
breathing in short bursts, he lets go of my wrists and grabs both sides of
my hips humping against my buttock, humping hard against me without
withdrawing his cock and then, BANG, there it is, a hard stream of hot cum
hit inside my bowels and then he's lying on my back desperately humping
against me for three, then four second and then there's just heavy
breathing from him as he lies on my back, his heart beating fast against my
spine. His moist sweet breath dampens the side of my face and I can't
imagine enjoying anything more than this. Rob's body feels very warm
through his t-shirt and my rectum feels good being stuffed full of Rob's
fat cock that's slippery with his own cum.

More heavy breathing from Rob as his heart beat gets closer to normal and I
feel a sloppy kiss on the side of my head and a murmured, "Oh my God how I
love you, Dylan. It's scary how much I love you." With a last gasp he
pushes himself up, like doing a push-up, pulling his cock from my ass as I
go, "Ooh!" and feel cool air fly up my stretched-open rectum even as his
warm cum begins drooling out. Robby stands up, gives my ass another hard
slap! and "SMACK!" rings out in my bedroom as I do a quiet, "Ow." Rob gets
a hand under each side of my chest, saying, "Up we go," and I get off the
bed, saying, "Goddamn, Rob, you're getting really good at the rough
stuff. I loved it, boyfriend!" He pulls my arm, "C'mon babe, let's get
cleaned up a little, I pumped a lot of cum up inside you," and as we
stagger into the bathroom he's like, "Jesus, what set us off like that?"

In the bathroom getting a washcloth wet, I go, "I'm not sure what set us
off, but it was awesome sex, Rob. Keep it up, you're getting fairly good at
it." He snorts a laugh, "Good, I need encouragement." He wipes and then
washes my ass with the wet washcloth. After I dry my buttocks I'm in the
bedroom putting a folded bunch of toilet paper under my asshole before
pulling up my jockey shorts. There's more of Rob's cum up there that'll be
coming out over the next half-hour-or-so. I mutter, "Hell, I'm changing
into some sweat pants."  Finished wiping cum and lubricant off his cock,
Rob gets dressed in his pants and white shirt, putting his tie in his suit
jacket and then asks, "Do you feel like a beer, Dylan?" Which is another
way of telling me that he feels like a beer. I change into a light-weight
sweatshirt with a hood and in the kitchen get us a couple of beers from the
refrigerator and take the caps off with a church key. They're twist-off
caps but the crinkling around the cap cuts my hand sometimes.

Rob and I go out on the balcony for another smoke. Everything has changed
it seems since the Coke and cigarette we had twenty minutes ago. There's
nothing like the awesome feeling of being sexually satisfied the way I feel
right after that wild rough and hard fucking I just got from my
boyfriend. I wish he was always that cocky and rough. After the sex I can
feel our love for each other. It's like a tangible thing and it's, um,
another one of those indescribable things I guess. It's like there's an
aura all around us. He taps the head of his beer bottle on my bottle and
mutters, "To us, babe." We both swill some beer and beer's been tasting
good lately. I mean the first swallow mostly. After that it's more a habit
of drinking beer, than enjoying the taste. Then there's the side benefit of
getting slightly high if we choose to drink a few bottles. Things don't
bother me as much when I get a little booze-high going. Some guys get nasty
when they get high; I do my best not to drink with those guys. Assholes...

We look at each other and grin, feeling good about being together. I asks,
"Why didn't we get an apartment together for the summer, Rob?" He says,
"Seriously?" I go, "Yeah, why haven't we ever thought about doing that?" He
says, "There's a few reasons I can think of right off the top of my
head. First of all I think that would be insulting to our parents and
secondly you're working to save money for college and thirdly there's no
complex near us that rents by the month. A year lease at a minimum with
first and last month's rent is almost always required." I go, "Oh, so
that's why, huh?" and Rob hugs me around the waist adding, "It'd be cool
though, wouldn't it? My condo will be built by this time next year and
we'll talk about it then if it's okay with you. No dates set in stone for
us though, right?" I nod, "Yeah, but your condo sounds mighty enticing."

We drink some beer and as Rob exhales some smoke, he says, "Today I was
over to Human Resources a little after twelve o'clock to take you to lunch
but you weren't there and the lady said she wasn't sure were Carl stashed
you. That's what she said, 'stashed you'. Carl wasn't in his office so I
figured you were in the cafeteria but couldn't find you there either. I
should have just texted you I guess." Aww, he was gonna have lunch with
me. I tell him about the meeting room Carl reserved for today and
tomorrow. Then add, "I suppose they'll have a list of employees for me to,
I guess you'd call it, 'interview' starting Wednesday. If they leave it up
to me though I'm 'interviewing' you first, Rob." He says, "What exactly
will you do during these interviews?" I tell him and he says, "I just might
refuse to sign that thing and have you do the interview all over again... a
few times perhaps." I say, "Yeah, maybe we could do that at a bar during
lunch and then you could fuck me exactly like you did a few minutes ago in
the pick-up." He chuckles, "Good idea."

I get a cellphone call from Chubby asking about dinner tonight and then
suggests, "Oh wait, I've got some baby-back-ribs we can barbecue at my
place. How's that sound?" I go, "Yum! And maybe have some mac and cheese
and a salad with the ribs." When Chub and I end the call I ask Robby to
join us for dinner. He says, "That sounds awesome but Mom expects me for
dinner at six, so I gotta get going, babe." We gulp down the rest of the
beers and do a quick hug. Rob says, "I think I can drive you home tomorrow
too." I say, "Oh good. We'll do it just like we did today." He goes, "For
sure! Oh, I forgot to tell you. It looks like the weekend after this coming
weekend I'll be in our Westborough office." I go, "That sucks," and he
nods, "It'll be an on-and-off thing all summer. You'll need to go there too
at some point because we've got almost fifty construction workers on the
big project." I nod, "Construction workers will undoubtedly be very
cooperative during my interviews." He goes, "Good luck with that."

Rob rubs my head, saying, "Gotta go but, same-time, same-station tomorrow
after work, baby," and he's out the door. I almost whined about him
messing-up my hair but stop myself remembering Pony whining about that
every time I messed his hair up. That makes me grin and text Pony: 'Do you
miss me, Pony boy? I just had a grin thinking about you.' He texts right
back, 'When can I spend the weekend with you? And no I don't miss you at
all and it's just Pony, drop the boy. I'll be 21 in a couple of weeks.' I
text back, 'Happy Birthday!!! Maybe the weekend after this coming one you
can visit. If you still want to visit.' He always types so fucking
fast. His text comes back a lot faster than mine go out. 'I'll hold you to
that, Dylan, and I lied about the missing you part. Oh, and I've been very
very bad so you'll need to spank my ass before doing... you know what.' I
text, 'Make sure you delete these texts! I'm off to dinner now with my
brother. Bye!' Almost before I get my cellphone in my pocket it buzzes
again. Pony's text, 'One last thing. I still L you!'

Damn that Pony's a good kid. Obviously I won't have him stay here when
Rob's home, but I just found out he'll almost certainly be at the other
facility the weekend after this one. Hmmm, maybe Rob and I can adopt
Pony. Drinking another beer I'm looking out the front window waiting for
Chubby to drive up in our Jeep. I've got a feeling this is going to be a
good summer; maybe the best summer I've ever had...

to be continued...

Donny Mumford     thinat20@yahoo.com    donnymumford@outlook.com

========================================================

Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published
and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for
next to nothing. The books are usually around ten dollars. They are about a
19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And
there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them
out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the
books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.

Donny Mumford
========================================================

Please consider a tax deductible donation of any size to nonprofit Nifty to
help with the expense of maintaining this ginormous free story site. Thank
you very much.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html