A Week of Bullying, Then...

That first week was horrible. Dante would come in an hour late, watch movies in the supply closet all shift, and leave all the work to me. I scurried about trying to do the work of two people. By Thursday, though, I became used to the workload and could still find time to read when no one was in the store.

Of course, when that happened, Dante would emerge to torment me. Just before closing, he pulled me into the employee bathroom to give me a swirly, but a customer came in to pick up an order just in time. I rang him up with wet hair.

The weekend arrived with sweet relief. I played Dungeons and Dragons with my friends every day, but, even with all the fun we were having, I couldn’t shake the dread of going into work on Monday. It didn’t help that I’d been jerking off to that image of Ashley every night. The fact that he could treat me this way and still get with a beautiful woman like her made me seethe.

On Monday, as soon as Dante walked in, the memory of how nice this job had been just weeks ago pissed me off immediately. I didn’t deserve this. I wasn’t some punching bag for him.

He stepped out of the closet at four when the last customer left. He wore a grin that told me a beating was coming.

“Dante, stop!” I said with as much courage as I could muster.

His eyebrows arched in delight: he liked it when I fought back. “Oh?”

“We’re coworkers. You can’t keep beating me up. I’ll go to HR.”

He guffawed. “HR? Are you serious?”

“Deadly serious.”

He shook his head, “You think this rinky-dink bookstore has an HR department? If you’ve got a problem with me, you’ll have to take it up with my aunt.”

My face fell. Of course. There was no way Dante had interviewed for this job. Why would he? Mrs. Delaney had given it to him, her nephew.

“Surprised you didn’t put that together earlier,” he said. “You’re usually a pretty smart guy.” He sized me up like a cut of meat, selecting which pieces he would tenderize today.

“Wait, if you beat me up, then I’ll quit,” I said, a plan coming into my mind.

Dante scoffed, “So I don’t get to see your beautiful face anymore, so what?”

“So someone else gets hired. Some college kid that won’t do your share of the work.”

He looked at me, doing some mental arithmetic. He was cruel and hateful, but he wasn’t dumb.

“Look,” I continued. “You’ve got a pretty good thing going here. You come in, watch movies all day, clock out, and get paid. Where else are you gonna get that deal?”

Dante tilted his head. I pressed on

“And I don’t care, it’s chill here. I can do your work, but if you keep beating me up, then I’ll quit. I’ll get another job, and your gravy train ends.”

After a tense moment, Dante nodded. “That’s true. It’s not worth the risk.” He suddenly raised his fist and took a step toward me. I flinched. He laughed.

“See? I’m gonna miss that. You make the funniest faces when you’re scared.”

I shook my head. He collapsed into the chair beside me and scrolled through his phone. I stared at him: he hadn’t agreed to the deal yet.

He caught my eye, “Here’s what I’m thinking,” he began. “It’s a good argument. On its surface, it’s an even deal. You do my work, and I won’t beat you up. But it doesn’t account for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Beating you up is fun.”

It was my turn to scoff.

“I’m serious. Movies get boring after a while, and I need some entertainment to spice up the shift.”

I gestured to the shelves, “Plenty of books for you to read.”

“Nah.”

“You want my Netflix login or something?”

He considered this, “Good offer, but no. I’ll think of something, but let’s make the deal official. I won’t beat you up, and you’ll do my work, but–” he held up a finger. “I get some additional entertainment. We’ll figure out the details later.”

I scrutinized the offer from every angle. I didn’t like giving him carte blanche, but, if the terms were too steep, I could threaten to quit to get him to back down. I had all the power.

I smiled and extended a hand, “Deal.”