My fellow GloboPlanet Corporate Headquarters Employees:
It has come to my attention that our office newsletter has been secretly compiling evidence for an exposé on me, your kind-hearted, gregarious office co-worker. Apparently, the article states that I am not the pleasant, good-natured individual that I appear to be, but rather something much darker and more sinister. So instead of denying it and fighting this thing tooth and nail, I’d rather get the whole story out right now and on my own terms.
Here it is:
Yes. I am an asshole.
That’s right; the man you’ve come to know and love as the light of the office, the person you come to for a laugh or to hear an inspiring story, is actually a piece of dog shit. I know this will come as a shock to many of you, but frankly, I don’t care. In actuality, I’ve been using all of you. I took advantage of your interest in me to coerce you into buying my kid’s girl scout cookies. (And Richard in accounting, just a tip: limit it to eating two boxes per sitting—I need you alive long enough to buy more cookies.) When you came to me in confidence to talk about a personal problem, I mined those conversations for nuggets of gossip that I could turn around and anonymously reintroduce into our office atmosphere like an invasive woodwasp. I’ve even gone into each of your offices when you’ve stepped out for a moment and farted the most vile, godawful flatulence of my life, only to slip away just before your return.
Perhaps worst of all, I have used my platform as the office nice guy to get your guard down—to make you think that some of the more raunchy jokes I’ve told were nothing more than mere playful comments. For instance, all those times I joked about someone peeing into the coffee pot—even going so far as to take the pot itself into my hands with a goofy grin on my face and mime as if I were urinating into it—those were not just jokes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve peed into the coffee pot. It must be hundreds of times. I told you all I didn’t drink coffee and that was why you never saw me with a cup, but the truth of it was that I just have no interest in drinking my own pee. And yet, you people seem to love it; you bubbleheads drank it up. God, I can’t tell you how satisfying it was to be lauded with praise and laughs as I joked about peeing right into your coffee while you were actually drinking my own urine right in front of me! But, I also want to say this: it’s not my fault. None of this can be blamed on me. You see, I have been trying to quietly deal with my being an asshole on my own terms. Sure, I’ve hurt many feelings around the office with my secret terrors, ruined more than one career—perhaps even lives—and personally saw to it that each of you consumed my urine on a daily basis, but it’s not my fault. I’ve been an asshole my whole life and it hasn’t been easy for me. I do sometimes feel regret for my deeply inappropriate assholish behavior, but this impending office newsletter story has encouraged me to address certain aspects of my life.
In closing, I want to let you all know that I plan to deal with this honestly and openly and that begins with me examining my own behavior. I don’t actually plan to change or anything though, mind you, but just thought it would be proper for me to say that I plan to. I am, after all, an asshole.
- About the Author
- Latest Posts
Michael A. Ferro’s debut novel, TITLE 13, will be published by Harvard Square Editions in February 2018. He received an Honorable Mention from Glimmer Train for their New Writers Award and he is a contributor to Splitsider and featured writer for Points in Case. Michael’s fiction has appeared in numerous journals in both print and online. Born and bred in Detroit, Michael has lived, worked, and written throughout the Midwest; he currently resides in rural Ann Arbor, Michigan. Additional information can be found at: www.michaelaferro.com and @MichaelFerro.