At work, my manager started dating a girl in a different department. I told him to be careful. He took my warnings lightly.
After a few weeks of dating and bed hopping, he took the woman to an after work gathering where someone asked if she was his new girlfriend. He replied, “I’m not sure yet, but so far, it looks good.”
She was furious. “What do you mean you are not sure?”
From what I heard, she yelled, screamed, and carried on well beyond a normal office party.
The next morning, he told me the story. He thought he was going to lose his job. As the day went on, Human Resources assured him his part in the incident would not hurt his career.
By 5pm, it was time for me to go home. My cubicle was right next to his office, and I heard the front door open and close. It was her. She stood in front of his office, explaining how last night’s incident was not her fault. He stayed at his desk, telling her it was over, and he couldn’t afford any more incidents that would damage his career.
She pleaded and begged him to reconsider. He stuck to his guns and said, “No.”
The conversation escalated from “It’s not my fault” to “You are to blame.”
My manager, a great friend, knew I was still at my cubicle listening to back him up if needed.
Noticing the encounter was heading into dangerous territory, my friend told her I was nearby to witness and protect him. I spoke up in the deepest, most authoritative voice I could muster, “Is there any trouble in there?”
She walked over to my cubicle, saw me, and got visibly intimidated. (I look as intimidating as a member of Tony Soprano’s crew.) I held up a broken digital camera and told her I was recording everything.
She looked shocked, said a few last words, and left.
My friend thanked me. When he found a new job, I was his first hire, and he gave me a great position.
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Rest in peace
Nathanial “Nate” Johnson
