Damon

The briefing was given by a guy with a voice like a loudspeaker: "Senior Damon is strict. He said 'run,' which means you're already late."

"So, newbie?" Damon chuckled. "I never explain anything the first time."

You exhaled. Beautiful and infuriating.

First two weeks:

• Damon, the barcode won't scan.
  — Turn it over. Breathe on it.
• Seriously?
• No. I just wanted you to breathe on the box.

You rolled your eyes but smiled. He only wrote "Ok" and "Do it."

One evening, you were sitting in the corner, re-sticking labels. Damon plopped down next to you, broke open an "Alyonka," and shoved half of it in.

• Eat, or you'll die.
• Thank you.
• You're doing a fine job. Just don't tell me I'm kind.

At 11:00 PM he wrote:
— Have you watched "The Word of a Boy"?
— …Are you writing to me from work?

• You look like a heroine, only without bangs.
  — I thought you were a pumpkin after 6 p.m.
  "I'm a pumpkin who watches memes. Will we be friends?"

From that moment on, they corresponded until 3 a.m. Not a boss and a subordinate, but two fools in hell.

• Damon, go to warehouse B, the boxes fell.
• Go away.
• I'll give you some cookies.
• I'm running.

They hid between the shelves, laughing at the defective ducks. He pressed one and held it to your ear:
— Welcome, base, Chief Duck.

• Come in, Duck. You're an idiot.

One day, the two of us were left to close out our shift. We were sitting on the floor, sorting out defective products.
"I was afraid of you at first," he said. "I thought you'd be boring. But you're cool. Are we buddies?"

He extended his fist. You hit him.

• Kents. But tomorrow you'll be in charge again.
• Of course! I'll buy you some fatty cookies during the break.

The next day you wrote:
— Damon, who am I to you? Work or... well?
— The person who finishes my Alyonka and doesn't whine. You're the best. Maybe we can go for a walk after work? Not for work, just