Dreams of the Quill

As promised, Night Switch returns. Have a cup of Joe.

“Dear Amtrak,

“I am writing to inform you that your trains DO NOT taste like trains. I had the opportunity to sample them four days ago and they were unlike any train I’ve ever taken. I would like this discrepancy fixed. I don’t expect it to be easy, or to go quickly, so I’m not going to say that they need to taste like trains within the next week, but I do need some immediate feedback on this letter to know that it has been received and that you are complying. Please call me. I’ve attached my vCard below.

“Thank you for your time and diligence in fixing the doesn’t-taste-like-train problem,
“-Bob”

“Well would you look at that,” chuckled Dan. He stuck his head out of Joe’s cubicle and called out to his coworkers, “guys! It’s Joe’s first crazy.”

“Oh shit,” yelled JP in response, the sound of an office chair crashing into a filing cabinet punctuating his exclamation. “Hold on guys I’ll hit Wholefoods real quick.”

“What’s going on?” asked Joe, mildly confused by the sudden uproar. The letter, read aloud to the office by Dan, sat neatly in Joe’s work inbox.

“The first time a customer service rep gets a batshit e-mail, we celebrate,” explained a suited brunette, stopping briefly outside Joe’s cubicle before sprinting for the office exit, calling for JP to wait for her.

“Who was that?” asked Joe.

“Maria. I guess she’s going shopping with him.”

“Shopping for what?”

“Celebratory foods, of course. You like Doritos, you said?” Dan beamed. “I can call them, tell them to pick up a bag while they’re out there–”

“I’d rather not,” sighed Joe. He didn’t want to eat something that reminded him of insanity. Rereading the e-mail from ‘Bob,’ he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was so crazy about it. Maybe I’ve been conditioned, he mused, conditioned by Marin and Dorito and those idiot radicals and their doomsaying.