Ginger: Ruby, are you home?
Ruby: …um. No. This is a recording. And hologram. Please leave a message at the beep.
Ginger: …wow, I have got to get up on technological advances…
Ginger: Hey, Ruby, when you get home, call me – this is Ginger, in case you don’t recognize my voice and I honestly don’t know where your hologram’s camera is – so, call me because I’m eating whatever food I find in your fridge, so that should answer that question, and also I finally gave up and sent my manager my letter of resignation.
Ginger: …your hologram just yelled at me, Ruby…that wasn’t me doing a ventriloquist impression of you…although that would be a useful talent…seriously, I don’t know how to end this. How do I hang up? Stop recording?
Ruby: Ginger, the hologram wasn’t real – I’m here. You seriously sent in your letter of resignation??
Ginger: …you were lying to me about having a hologram?
Ruby: FOCUS, Ginger – did you or did you not send in your letter of resignation today?
Ginger: Yes. Unless now I’m lying to you. Which I won’t tell you until it’s too late. So there. How does it feel, Ruby, to not be able to trust your closest friend?
Ruby: Sit down – let’s talk this through. What happened, exactly?
Ginger: When? Just now? You lied to me. Why would you do that? You know how gullible I am.
Ruby: No – not that – I’m very sorry I told you I was a hologram when I wasn’t. What happened at work?
Ginger: Oh. I got a bajillion projects all due at the same time at work and I realized what was going on and I wrote up an email to my manager and sent it. You should have seen his reaction…I do not understand people.
Ruby: Do you have a contingency plan?
Ginger: …for what? For when you lie to me? No, clearly, as you just saw. Why? Do you think I need one? Do you plan to lie to me again?
Ruby: Ginger, you can’t just…okay, we’ll do this one step at a time. When was the last time you updated your résumé?
Ginger: Do I need to?
Ruby: How do you expect to get a job without a current résumé?
Ginger: I have a job. Why do I need another one?
Ruby: You have… Okay, that’s what we call a “contingency plan.”
Ginger: Ugh, this is so complicated. Why can’t contingency plans be more like zombie apocalypse plans?
Ruby: When did you get the job? What will you be doing?
Ginger: I’ve had this job forever. And what will I be doing? The same thing I do every day, Pinky. Try to get some lab mice to figure out how to take over the world for me.
Ruby: Funny. Really. I’m trying to help you.
Ginger: How can I trust you, though? You lied about holograms. You know I’ve wanted that technology ever since I saw Princess Leia ask Obi Wan Kenobi for help, since he was their only hope.
Ruby: Ginger, what did your manager say when you gave him your notice?
Ginger: …were you not paying attention? Scroll up, Ruby – I didn’t give him any notice. I just emailed him my letter of resignation. It was an email. There’s no notice in that…unless you send an email saying “NOTICE: You’re about to get an email from me.”
Ruby: You didn’t give any notice?
Ginger: Since when does anyone give notice of an email?
Ruby: Not of an email – of your resignation!
Ginger: Oh, he saw that coming.
Ginger: Well, yeah. I have been a mess for the past week just trying to get a handle on things…he suggested I cut down on the caffeine.
Ruby: Wow. No wonder you quit.
Ginger: …sorry, what?
Ruby: No wonder you quit. He told you to cut down on caffeine.
Ginger: I didn’t…quit. That would be ridiculous. I have rent to pay. Every month. The landlord is very strict about that.
Ruby: You said you quit!
Ruby: …what do you think a “Letter of Resignation” is?
Ginger: What it sounds like.
Ruby: What did you email your manager?
Ginger: I don’t keep copies of my work emails on me, Ruby. That’s a little weird.
Ruby: What did you email your manager?
Ginger: An email – that is, a letter in electronic format – detailing my resignation.
Ruby: Can you recall what it said?
Ginger: The subject was “Resignation.”
Ginger: I think it was something like “Dear Thomas…I know I have appeared to be under a significant amount of stress lately, but I want you to know that I am resigned. I know with all the recent changes in blah, blah, blah, some of the work is getting shuffled down to me, but I am resigned to this because I know it’s going to get back to normal after next month, because that’s when all the work is due and that’s when I’ll be able to breathe like a normal person again.”
Ruby: Was that it?
Ginger: Mostly. There were more work-specific details about which projects I got sucked into, and then I added the final paragraph:
“I know you think that two cups of coffee is plenty, but in the future, please resign yourself to leaving the pot of coffee at my desk if there are four projects and six project managers who all email me asking for additional charts and excessive data pulls before noon. And, as everyone in my cubicle aisle has resigned themselves to the knowledge that if they want the last of the coffee in the carafe, they will make a fresh pot as soon as possible and leave that on my desk, perhaps you should also resign yourself to this new office etiquette. Seriously. Not kidding. Resignedly, Ginger.”
Ginger: Yeah. Where did you get me quitting in that?
Ruby: What was his reaction?
Ginger: He bought me a Keurig for my desk and said to stop hoarding the office coffee pot.
Ginger: No. I lied about the Keurig. HOW DOES IT FEEL, RUBY, TO HAVE SOMEONE LIE TO YOU?!
Ruby: What did he buy you?
Ginger: A 34 ounce French press and some nice gourmet coffee.
Ruby: One day, I’ll teach you what office etiquette is to the rest of the world.
Ginger: That’s really weird…Thomas said the same thing.