Request For Privacy
Dad’s expression was unflappable and unrevealing. “Could we have a word about my son’s situation, in private?” he said calmly. My manager nodded rapidly, still sporting a tense expression. He obviously wasn’t prepared for this degree of conflict, particularly not in front of the whole staff. As we turned to leave interested glances behind and headed into his office, the uneasy tension was evident.
Request For Privacy
Entering The Manager’s Lair
The office we entered was cramped and disorganized. There were papers and folders all over the place, a disorganized representation of my manager’s mental state. Using a tissue to wipe his brow, he was already beginning to perspire. My manager sat behind his desk, and I sat down next my father. It seemed unreal, like though I was in a movie scene that was being filmed.
Entering The Manager’s Lair
