Late for Work
Published Jun 12, 2003
One of the workers at that furniture warehouse was a bookkeeper named Billy-Bob. He was a bland, mousy man, the kind whose clothing never got louder than beige. But he had one accomplishment that the other workers constantly referred to. Billy-Bob was the Cal Rifken of the warehouse -- he hadn't missed a day's work since he began in 1972. In fact, he'd never shown up later than 8:55 in all that time.
So it was a shock to everyone when his seat was empty one morning. Word buzzed rapidly around the office that he hadn't even called. The whole place watched the clock -- 9:15, 9:30, 9:45, and still no Billy-Bob.
When he finally came through the door at five to ten, the manager was right there waiting for him. Billy-Bob suit was rumpled, his shirt had dirt stains on it, and his hair was mussed.
"Sorry, sir," he said to the manager. "I tripped on the way out of my apartment. Fell down a whole flight of stairs. I even lost consciousness for a while. My neighbors said it looked like I was dead."
"A flight of stairs?" the manager said. "And this took you a whole hour?"
Originally published June 13, 2003.
