"They should've," he agrees, "But they told me that everyone celebrates Christmas, and even if I didn't, I should be grateful to have the day off. There may have been raised voices. And swearing. And me storming out. I guess it makes sense they fired me. I only worked there for two months, anyway, so it's not like I was invested in the job yet."
At the agency he works at now, he's somehow able to get away with more than he had been at his previous jobs. Maybe that's because, where he works now, being confrontational and calling people assholes is a whole lot less surprising than anything else anyone gets up to around the office. The fact that people are often drunk, high, or both, and the fact that half of the board members are just as confrontational and rabble-rousing as he is keeps him somewhat safe. He appreciates it. It's the first job he's had where he feels like he even comes close to fitting in.
"Yeah, sure, they can steal it. I mean, they don't really call it that, but if they think you're doing too well and they're looking bad, they'll sabotage you. One of the guys I work for, and I won't name names, because I never do, took one of my ideas and one of his ideas to a pitch for a product, and said he was gonna let the client decide which was better. Mine was better, and he knew it, so he never showed them my idea at all. He "forgot" it in the car." He shakes his head, but it's not bitterly. That's how the advertising world is, and he doesn't much care, anyway. Knowing that his idea had been better is more important than being the one to have his ad published, anyway.
When it starts raining, he walks a little quicker to catch up with Ned's long strides -- this guy is seriously tall, he's realizing -- but he doesn't seem discontented by it at all. Instead of huddling up into his jacket, he lifts his face towards the sky for a moment, letting it rain all over his face, and then looks back down again, letting the water drip out of his hair.
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At the agency he works at now, he's somehow able to get away with more than he had been at his previous jobs. Maybe that's because, where he works now, being confrontational and calling people assholes is a whole lot less surprising than anything else anyone gets up to around the office. The fact that people are often drunk, high, or both, and the fact that half of the board members are just as confrontational and rabble-rousing as he is keeps him somewhat safe. He appreciates it. It's the first job he's had where he feels like he even comes close to fitting in.
"Yeah, sure, they can steal it. I mean, they don't really call it that, but if they think you're doing too well and they're looking bad, they'll sabotage you. One of the guys I work for, and I won't name names, because I never do, took one of my ideas and one of his ideas to a pitch for a product, and said he was gonna let the client decide which was better. Mine was better, and he knew it, so he never showed them my idea at all. He "forgot" it in the car." He shakes his head, but it's not bitterly. That's how the advertising world is, and he doesn't much care, anyway. Knowing that his idea had been better is more important than being the one to have his ad published, anyway.
When it starts raining, he walks a little quicker to catch up with Ned's long strides -- this guy is seriously tall, he's realizing -- but he doesn't seem discontented by it at all. Instead of huddling up into his jacket, he lifts his face towards the sky for a moment, letting it rain all over his face, and then looks back down again, letting the water drip out of his hair.