Black Buck(41)

According to “Debbie,” it was hard for her to trust a company she’d never heard of, especially one that allowed people who didn’t complete college to work there. It was “too much of a liability.”

“That’s what people said when they first heard of Starbucks, Debbie. That buying coffee from a no-name brand was a liability. But in the same way people took a chance on Starbucks, someone here took a chance on me even though I don’t have a college degree. You obviously have the budget, there’s a real need, and you’re the one who calls the shots. So I’ll introduce you to my colleague, you check out what we have to offer, and if it’s not a fit, we can just stay friends. Sound fair?”

Reader: I know; I killed that shit. This —the perfect close—is what we salespeople live for. Give me five on the black-hand side!



Silence. Clyde’s eyes locked onto mine, and the circle became still, no more whispering, jittery legs, or coughing. I couldn’t feel my heart beat and wondered if I was dead and didn’t know it.

“Alright, Darren,” she said. “Let’s set it up. But only because I know you.”

The circle applauded even louder than they had for Frodo, and I smiled because I had won; I had beaten Clyde at his own game. I had gone through hell and come out the other end—bloody, bruised, and beaten, sure, but still breathing. That was for you, Ma.

“Yeah, Buck!” Rhett shouted from outside the circle, clapping like I’d won the Super Bowl.

Clyde, staring at Rhett, looked as if he smelled a fart. He turned back to me, straight-faced, and stretched out his thumb. But instead of flipping it up, he twisted it down, shaking his head. “Not good enough, Buck. Not good enough at all. Go again.”

This can’t be happening. “Again?” I said, looking around the circle. “But you, I mean Debbie, agreed to the meeting? Didn’t I pass?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” He shrugged. “You set up a dud. A lemon. There was no shot that Debbie was going to show up to the next meeting. You were serving up dogshit hoping it would stick.”

“I think he was fine,” Eddie said from outside the circle.

“Good thing it doesn’t matter what you think,” Clyde snapped. “Tiffany, in the circle with Buck.”

I was shaking. I’d thought it was over, that I had passed.

“Okay,” she said, out for blood. “I’m Nora—”

“No,” Rhett said. “Let him go; it was fine.”

“He needs to go again,” Clyde said, without looking at Rhett.

“C’mon, Clyde. If he has any issues, he can just work them out on the phones.”

“There’s no way we can let dogshit on the phones, Rhett. He’s going to make us look bad. Plus, it’s my decision who passes, right?”

Rhett, looking ill again, closed his eyes and took a breath. “He passes.”

“But he’s not one of us!” Clyde shouted. “He doesn’t belong here.”

“I think he does,” Rhett said, winking at me. “But let’s let the team decide. Does he pass or not?”

Everyone stood still, two hundred eyes darting around to see if anyone would make a move, Clyde’s wrath filling the air. But then Frodo, of all people, stepped forward. “If I passed, Buck passes. He’s better than me.”

“No,” Clyde said. “You’re an idiot, but you’re more of a fit than he is.”

“Pass him,” Eddie said, stepping into the circle.

“Pass him,” Marissa repeated, also stepping into the circle. Clifford, her piglet, followed.

“Pass him,” others, whose names I didn’t know, said as they stepped into the circle. They chanted, “Pass him, pass him, pass him,” until it became deafening.

“Alright,” Clyde said, waving them off. “You’re all fucking wrong, but it won’t be my fault when I fire him. You want me to pass him? Fine. He passed.”

Before I knew what happened, Frodo threw me onto his shoulders and everyone was clapping, whistling, and chucking shit at me like I just got married. I didn’t know why they went to bat for me, but I was grateful.

As Frodo spun me round and round, with dozens of hands slapping my back, I caught a glimpse of Clyde standing with his arms crossed away from the crowd. When our eyes met, he mouthed two words that were as loud and clear as if he had shouted them: Fuck. You.



* * *





“You’re one of us now,” Charlie, our manager with the mountain-man aesthetic, said as he handed us brand-new MacBook Airs, hoodies, iPhone cases, pens, sunglasses, socks, slippers, hats, tote bags, mugs, water bottles, notebooks, stickers, T-shirts, and backpacks, all purple, all with SUMWUN printed on them in white cursive.

“No way!” Frodo shouted, putting on every piece of gear in seconds. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life!” He looked like a walking billboard.

“You’ve been waiting your whole life to be handed a ton of branded startup gear?” the Duchess asked, pushing all of her swag into a wastebasket.

“Uh, no, but I mean, this is all, it’s just really cool to be a part of this and walk around with our logo and stuff. It’s like our uniform,” Frodo said, deflated by the Duchess’s lack of enthusiasm.