By Danli
Ira sat at the breakroom table, absently stirring a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. His Marine training told him to keep his head on a swivel, but his civilian job had taught him that the only real threat here was Karen from HR. He wasn’t sure what smelled worse—the breakroom microwave after someone nuked fish or the stench of corporate small talk.
Across from him, Danli leaned back in his chair, casually scrolling on his phone. His island accent slipped out as he muttered, “stueps, ah swear, if ah hear anotha person seh ‘team synergy,’ iz a start meditating aggressively.” as he puts his hands on the light brown circular break room table.
The breakroom door swung open, and in stormed Zhade. He had that look—shoulders tense, jaw clenched, hands already in fists. It was a Tuesday, which meant he was looking for a fight, verbal or physical. They all seemed to be a source of entertainment for this deranged overly angry individual.
“Alright, who’s getting slapped today?” Zhade growled, cracking his knuckles and imitating the gesture of putting baby powder in his hands.
Ira sighed. “Why does it always have to be violence with you?”
Zhade grinned, with a wolfish gleam in his eye he snarls “Because people are stupid, and it’s the only language they understand. Just like the good ol’ days, right, Marine?” He slapped his hand on the right shoulder of Ira so hard that it echoed in the sad beige breakroom. So hard on the back that it could make a lesser man choke on his coffee.
Ira frowned. “Yeah, except back then, I was legally allowed to hit people and tell them about theirself.” Ira looks up at Zhade with a slight smile then slowly his smile fades away “Now, HR gets involved.”
“HR is just civilian MPs,” Zhade scoffed. “You get caught, you deny, you gaslight. Boom, corporate America.” he laughed out loud with a slight grimace.
Danli snorted. “That explains why you keep dragging me into your mess, Zhade. You fight first, and then I gotta sit in some ‘conflict resolution’ meeting because I happened to be in the room.”
Zhade rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. That lady in accounting had it coming. Who calls a grown man ‘buddy’ in an email? She is lucky I could not act on my impulses” Zhade mutters something under his breath.
“She was being polite,” Ira muttered as he places his coffee cup on the table and stands up to walk towards the sink in the far right corner of the room.
“She was being condescending,” Zhade corrected as his head followed Ira but his body remained in its firm posture facing the wall.“And she’s lucky I’m trying to stay employed.”
Danli raised an eyebrow. “That mean you’re finally gonna stop punching printers when they jam? Or breaking boxes down like a martial artist with a boxcutter?” Danli asks with a condescending smirk
Zhade pointed a finger at him. “I will not apologize for waging war against inferior technology.”
Ira exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. Every day, his belief in humanity dwindled. Maybe it was the customers. Maybe it was the way people lied to each other with forced smiles. Or maybe it was because he had somehow found himself in this unholy trinity of chaos.
“Ira, listen,” Zhade said, walking towards him and leaning in. “You don’t belong here, man. You’re a warrior.” Zhade places his left hand on Ira’s right shoulder and whispers “This office? It’s just a jungle full of soft people playing pretend. You and me, we were made for more, we are trained for more.”
Ira looked down at his coffee, watching the ripples settle. The spiral of the coffee rushing down the drain creates a hypnotic swirl. Ira senses a shift in his balance, but nothing has moved around him and he is still standing erect. For a second, he could almost hear the distant echoes of gunfire, the barked orders, the raw, unfiltered reality of combat, the whiz of rounds zooming past him and faint yells. As the swirl of the coffee dissipates down the drain.
Danli chuckles. “Bruh, you just compared a call center to a battlefield. You need a hobby.”
Zhade shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.”
“I’m never helping,” Danli grinned. “I’m just here for the show.”
Aye Marine! Come back to us! Zhade yells loudly into the ear of a blank Ira who is staring into the sink.
Ira shook his head. Maybe he was losing faith in people, but looking at these two, he realized something—some people weren’t good, some weren’t bad, and some were just… there, existing in the chaos. And somehow, that was comforting.
Zhade cracked his knuckles again. “Alright, let’s get back to work. But if I hear that ‘buddy’ lady so much as breathe in my direction—”
Danli placed his hand on the shoulder of Zhade. “We’ll start a GoFundMe for your bail. However, I’m sure everyone in this place and your baby mommas would be ecstatic that you’re finally locked up!” Danli says while trying to keep a straightforward face.
Ira sighed and stood up. “Let’s just make it through the day without another HR meeting.”
Zhade smirked. “No promises.”
And with that, the three of them walked back onto the battlefield of fluorescent lights, passive-aggressive emails, and the soul-crushing weight of corporate life—each fighting their own war, in their own way.
Divine time 