Ah, Christmas. It is the one time of year when people celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The one time of year when families gather around the Christmas tree and share presents. It's also the one time of year when tech sales are high and I have to work even harder than before, which sucks. We're supposed to be relaxing during this holiday, why should we have to work? That doesn't make any sense to me, but nevertheless, this is my life. Ma'Kayla Wilson, chief director of marketing at Common Grounds, Incorporated.
Today is December 1st, the start of the Christmas season. This time of year has always been hectic, especially in New York City. It's way too cold, too much snow, and everybody just so happens to want the latest computer, tablets, and every single device that their kids can get their grubby little hands on. These adults are letting IPads and Nintendos raise their children, and it's scary. Who knows how these kids are going to turn out in the future? Now that I'm thinking about it, this is pretty weird of me to say, considering that I work for a company who sells that stuff. But, I digress.
I'm in my office, brainstorming ideas for this month's project, when I hear a knock at the door. I look up from my computer screen and there's someone waiting at the glass door with two cups of coffee in hand and a smile. One of the very few white people I'm actually friends with here, Kylie Marshal.
I get up from my desk and open the door for her.
"Hey," Kylie greets me in a happy tone.
"Hi," I respond. She hands me a cup of coffee. This just came off of the pot. I blow on the light brown mixture to cool it down and take a sip. Ah, a nice cup of Joe.
"Two creams and no sugar, just how you like it." Kylie informs me.
"Thank you. How are you? You seem happy about something." I suggest.
Kylie chuckles and takes a seat on the side of my desk. "It's Christmas! Aren't you excited?"
I close the door and walk back to my seat. "Not really, it just means more work for us.
"I know, but this is one of the best holidays of the year! You get to share presents, and we make more money during this time. People are buying up devices and sales are high as hell here."
"Language, Kylie."
"Sorry. But the best part is, we get two weeks off at the end of the month."
She's not wrong, but it's not a lot. "I mean, yeah, I guess. Are you gonna visit family?"
She nods. "Yes I am. I'm planning on driving to Jersey, what about you?"
"I'm catching a flight to New Orleans."
Her face shows confusion. "Why? You're not from there, are you?"
Despite being friends, she still doesn't know where I'm from. It's sad, but it's not her fault she can retain information well enough. "Actually, I am. I've told you this before."
"Really?" She asks in a shocked tone.
"Yes, I've said this before, Kylie."
"Hm...I don't remember you telling me that. But that's so amazing!"
I nod. "I guess, Kylie."
"Speaking of which, there's another person that works here that from New Orleans too. Maybe you know him!"
I know the Crescent City is small, but not everybody knows each other. But still, I want to know who it is. "Do you know him?"
"Not really," she answers, "but I've heard his name pop up in conversations before."
"What's his name?"
"Hakeem. I don't know his last name though. But I do know he works in accounting. Does that name sound familiar?"
I think for a moment. Hakeem...have I heard that name before? I think I have. The name seems familiar to me, but I don't remember where it's from. A name from childhood, or perhaps a show? I can't put my finger on it right now, but figuring out someone's name isn't going to help come up with ideas for the winter product that Gomez wants us to sell.
"No," I answer, "but we can't worry about that right now. Go back to your desk, we got stuff to do."
Kylie sighs. "I hope you know it's still weird having you as my boss."
"Yuh-uh, now get back to it."
She gets up from my desk and leaves my office.
I place my coffee on my desk and slump down in my chair. The creative process can take a while, but I'm starting to get a little impatient. I need to have something done and ready for the rest of the departments by the 25th, and I still have nothing. Maybe I could just present a Christmas sale with a catchy slogan. Nah, that's way too bland, this company needs some more. Something that's unique and screams the Christmas spirit. Besides, every other company is going to have a Christmas sale, every single product of theirs is going to have a huge discount. So the question is, what is going to make this company stand out from the rest? A new product? Or an updated version of an old one, maybe? I sigh and lay my head on my keyboard. What am I going to do?
"Lord, help me please. Give me somethin!"
***
The clock strikes five, everyone is waiting outside of the elevators for the doors to open. Throughout the eight hours I've been here, my brain still hasn't come up with an idea for this stupid product. I'm stressing out right now. Three weeks might look far away, but it's approaching fast.
The elevator doors open and everyone shuffles in to get out and leave. After a long and hard day at work, they deserve it. I shut down my computer and stretch out my arms in my chair. I push my chair away from my desk and stand up and crack my back. The sounds of snap, crackle and pop occur, goodness I'm getting old. Even though I'm 23.
I pack my things into my backpack and leave my office, already dreading the fact that I have to come back tomorrow just repeat the process. But it's alright, God is with me. He's gonna help me through this. As I walk out, I see Kylie running towards me in a hurry. What is she running for?
"Kylie, are you alright," I ask her, "what's going on?"
Kylie takes a deep breath after gasping for air. "Gomez is here. She wants everyone in the main lobby, like right now."
"Right now?"
"Right now!"
"Ugh!"
Margarita Gomez is the CEO and founder of Common Grounds. She began this company in the 80s and it's been growing ever since. Now, it's one of the largest technology companies in the entire world. She rarely visits the main building, she's normally at one of her many condos getting a massage or something. I wonder what she's here for.
So, Kylie and I are racing down the emergency stairs, since the elevator would take forever to get us there. We make it to the lobby in just the nick of time and there's a sea of people looking around and murmuring about what's going on. Whispers fill the room as everyone waits for her reason for calling us down.
"What do you think this is about?" Kylie asks me.
"I don't know but we're about to find out."
I look up at her standing on the second-floor balcony. She opens her mouth to finally speak.
"Hello everyone! I hope all of my loyal employees are doing well this afternoon. I know it's strange of me to stop by like this, but I have an important announcement to make. On Christmas night, we will be hosting our first annual Christmas gala, filled with festive activities! There will be great food, amazing music, and a Secret Santa!"
Whispers are spreading all across the room.
"Wait! I'm not finished yet. Now, I need volunteers to make this event happen. If you're willing to assist in the planning and preparation of this event, please email me tonight or early tomorrow. I can't make this event happen without your help. I know it's so soon, but we can do this! That's all for this evening, goodbye!"
I let out a saddening breath of air as she's walking away from the balcony. Is she serious right now? How does she expect to schedule something that happens in three weeks and just now tell us about it? That doesn't make any sense at all. Now, people aren't going to volunteer, thus making this gala not happen. But, as annoyed as I am about this, especially to be hearing about this after a long day, I kind of want to volunteer. The idea of a gala sounds fun. Dressing fancy, dining like royalty, that's really exciting! Saying this out loud is making me want to volunteer. Maybe I'll get a raise for helping out, and it might give me an idea for this season's project. But, right now, in this moment, I need a nap.
***
I push my key into my apartment door and open it. I put my bag down and take my coat off and put it on the coat rack. Finally, I'm home. As I bend down to take off my shoes, St. Roch runs up and pounces on me.
"Goodness gracious man, chill!" I exclaim as I lose my balance and fall over.
Albeit he doesn't look like his weight, St. Roch is very heavy. Like, sumo wrestler heavy. Maybe I'm too weak, but nonetheless, he is a big boy. But I love him. He's my first pet ever. Since I was thirteen, he's always been by my side. He's a blessing from God. He's helped me out a lot, especially during my college years. I used to have breakdowns from the stress of college, but he would be in my room, rubbing his head under my hand trying to calm me down. He would be energetic even though I was upset. I guess dogs are really humans' best friends.
I walk to the kitchen and open the container for St. Roch's food. I grab the scoop and pour it into St. Roch's food bowl. Giving him food is making me think about food. I haven't eaten since this afternoon. What should I eat? Well, the question should be, 'what do I have in my fridge that's left from last night,' because I really don't want to cook. I open the refrigerator and look for something edible. I see some salmon I made last night and some muffulettas that my mother brought back from New Orleans last weekend. I should eat the sandwiches before they go bad, but I'm not really in the mood for that. I mean, the muffulettas aren't going to go bad as fast. I guess I'm just going to eat the fish. I grab the small container out of the fridge and stick it in the microwave for a minute and thirty seconds.
While that's happening, I grab my backpack from the door and take it to my bedroom. I might as well work on this while I'm at home. Maybe my brain will finally work and I'll have something to send to the other departments. I take my laptop, a notebook, my pencil case and my headphones out of my backpack and set them on my bed. I turn off my phone and set it on my nightstand. Now that I have everything set up, I just need some-
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The microwave screams out to me. Food. I can smell the salmon from here already. It smells heavenly.
I walk to the kitchen and grab the container out of the microwave and walk back to my room. St. Roch starts following me, wagging his tail.
"Dude, you just ate." I tell him. "You already had your food, let me eat mine.
Once I get to my room, I shut the door. I'm about to dig in, but I almost forget something.
"Oh snap, lemme say grace first."
***
The clock on my nightstand reads 8:00pm, and I still haven't gotten anything. My notebook is filled with scribbles and crossed out words. Annoyance and anger fills my body as I huff out in frustration. Why isn't my mind working correctly? I'm always the one who can come up with best-selling ideas, it's what I'm known for at Common Grounds, the whole reason I became chief director of the marketing department. And now, my brain has become a dry well. I feel like a lazy bum, and I know I'm not.
"You're not lazy, just stuck." I tell myself. "Stay positive."
As I regain my focus, I hear a ding from my phone. I take a look at it. An unknown number texted me. I wonder who it is.
Unknown Sender: Hello, Ma'Kayla, my love. I remember you; I just hope you remember me.
What in Jesus's name is this? That's pretty strange. How did he even get my number, and why did he text me? It's whatever, I don't have time to investigate this. I've got work to do.