Ten Seconds
Pam watched as Andy pushed too roughly against the kitchen door and some of his coffee sloshed over the edge of his mug and dripped down onto his loafers. She found it hard not to grimace at his earnest internal struggle over not destroying the mug on the ground in defeat. Her eyebrows knit together as she gave the camera a commiserating glance.
Mike, one of the nicer camera guys -the one that Jim once had drinks with a while back and was allowed to come up and film them on the roof together, or out to brunch that time with Roy - tilted his head towards the conference room. Pam nodded her head glumly, counted to ten, and switched the phone to automated voicemail. She grabbed a folder from under her desk and gave a small smile to Jim along the way.
“Dear Andrew Bernard,” Pam read from memorization as she held up the letter for Mike to get a clearer shot of up close. “We are very pleased to offer you a position as a member of The Finer Things Club. After reconsidering your original application and qualifications we have found you to be a wonderful addition to the group. Thank you for your patience and understanding, we’re glad that allowing time to reexamine things still presented us with such an appropriate match. Please keep the enclosed reading schedule and meeting times for your own benefit. We hope that you will find a place, here, at The Finer Things Club and wish you future success no matter your choice. Sincerely, Ms. Pamela Beesly and Mr. Oscar Martinez.”
She delicately folded up the Classic Crest Recycled Natural White that Jim had helped her pick out earlier from the samples into its thin envelope. She had gone through a public break-up, too. It’s no fun. Especially when your three-hour engagement is broken by Dwight Schrute. In front of your parents. She can only imagine. Actually, she’d rather never imagine that. Nobody should have to deal with all of that at once, all the while fighting to keep his anger in check. It was like the SATs of testing your ability to deal with conflict.
She shrugged and gave the camera coy half-smile. “We did have an opening, it was the least I could do,” she explained quietly.
On her way back to her desk, she stopped off at Andy’s desk and laid the envelope on the center of his keyboard and gave Oscar a thumbs up as she turned back towards reception.
--
Andy had finished wiping off his shoes and the sides of his mug, only to realize his coffee was cold. Popping it into the microwave he sat at the kitchen’s small table and put his face into his hands. He counted from ten to one and then back to ten. Repeating the exercise didn’t seem to help, as nothing else had. He had “Changed His Location” twice already and Stanley probably thinks he has an overactive bladder problems.
It was hard enough when Angela was constantly blowing hot and cold throughout their relationship to the point where it drove him what he suspected was purposefully insane. Now, though, with the entire office knowing about their embarrassing business and having to find out about it after your co-workers? Actually by way of your co-workers, thanks to Phyllis. It was just a terrible situation all-around and having to sit in the same room as Angela and Dwight was just the cherry on top.
The microwave let out a few harsh beeps to let him know it was finished, but he dragged his feet getting up. He wished he could move his computer into another room. Maybe the annex is open, now that Toby is gone. He just wasn’t sure if giving up such a prime location out front of Michael’s office was such a good idea. He would miss his buddy Jim, too. Plus, Kelly Kapoor was infinitely annoying and couldn’t get a hint even if it was on sale at the mall. The idea of getting away from Dwight and Angela was a strong argument, enough that he would consider it for later. He blew over his mug and headed back out to his desk.
He tried to act as normal as possible, pretending that he didn’t see Pam’s stare from across the reception desk where she looked to be going through voicemails, or Creed biting his pencil and head tilted to watch him. That might just be because he still hadn’t paid Andy back.
It wasn’t until he sat down and found a scrap of paper for his mug to fit on that he noticed the envelope on his keyboard. He looked around, wondering who had put it there. Angela? It had no label on the front. It couldn’t be from his parents, since they had the return address stickers with the little St. Bernards on the corners. Any of his Cornell buddies would have put “Nard Dog” as big as it would fit across the front. He looked around the office and found Jim staring off to his side, but otherwise directly at Andy and realized the camera was on both of them. So, Jim? He could have just sent his mail electronically, just like when he answers forwards with a wish to stop receiving them. Which Andy just considers part of their rapport, Andy and the Tuna.
“Tu-na, this seems a bit unnecessary. You could have just CC’d me,” Andy trumpeted out in Jim’s direction.
This prompted Dwight, who had just put down the phone to swing his head towards Andy, as well. Andy’s jaw ticked instinctively as he met Dwight’s gaze, but quickly reverted to “Using Silly Humor” hoping to keep himself calm.
“Nope,” Jim breathed out and did that upside down smile thing he does with his mouth. Not quite a frown, but not really a smirk.
Andy’s face changed to a blank, confused expression as he tore open the side of the envelope and yanked out the contents quickly. Eyes lighting up, his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ shape. He jumped up from his desk and ran over to Pam’s, rambling on about how hard he was going to work and how he wouldn’t let either of the existing members down. Pam had to shake his hand to get him go back to his desk. Eventually the same thing happened at lunch time to Oscar.
--
When Jim left reception after congratulating Pam on things going perfectly, he swears he saw tears in Andy’s eyes while trying to keep the paper flat enough to put into his now empty frame. Looking back at Pam, just going over a handful of documents before they were to be faxed to Buffalo as if she hadn’t just made the guy’s year, he felt the same warmness in his gut. He couldn’t wait for them to go back to his place, make some delicious grilled cheese sandwiches, watch whatever they still had from NetFlix, and take the little black box out before it managed to burn a hole through his sock drawer.
Pam turned back to get a post-it from her monitor and caught Jim’s stare, tilting her head she gave a wide, goofy grin in return to his calm, unreadable face. He counted to ten, trying to keep from taking a long lunch break and pushing up his schedule.
To his left, Andy was wiping up some of the coffee that had spilled across his desk when he jumped up too quickly with a big grin on his face. Jim spun his chair towards Pam and gave her a smug grin and a head tilt towards Andy’s desk. Bowing with a hand looping flourish, five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough when Pam winked back at him.
Mike, one of the nicer camera guys -the one that Jim once had drinks with a while back and was allowed to come up and film them on the roof together, or out to brunch that time with Roy - tilted his head towards the conference room. Pam nodded her head glumly, counted to ten, and switched the phone to automated voicemail. She grabbed a folder from under her desk and gave a small smile to Jim along the way.
“Dear Andrew Bernard,” Pam read from memorization as she held up the letter for Mike to get a clearer shot of up close. “We are very pleased to offer you a position as a member of The Finer Things Club. After reconsidering your original application and qualifications we have found you to be a wonderful addition to the group. Thank you for your patience and understanding, we’re glad that allowing time to reexamine things still presented us with such an appropriate match. Please keep the enclosed reading schedule and meeting times for your own benefit. We hope that you will find a place, here, at The Finer Things Club and wish you future success no matter your choice. Sincerely, Ms. Pamela Beesly and Mr. Oscar Martinez.”
She delicately folded up the Classic Crest Recycled Natural White that Jim had helped her pick out earlier from the samples into its thin envelope. She had gone through a public break-up, too. It’s no fun. Especially when your three-hour engagement is broken by Dwight Schrute. In front of your parents. She can only imagine. Actually, she’d rather never imagine that. Nobody should have to deal with all of that at once, all the while fighting to keep his anger in check. It was like the SATs of testing your ability to deal with conflict.
She shrugged and gave the camera coy half-smile. “We did have an opening, it was the least I could do,” she explained quietly.
On her way back to her desk, she stopped off at Andy’s desk and laid the envelope on the center of his keyboard and gave Oscar a thumbs up as she turned back towards reception.
--
Andy had finished wiping off his shoes and the sides of his mug, only to realize his coffee was cold. Popping it into the microwave he sat at the kitchen’s small table and put his face into his hands. He counted from ten to one and then back to ten. Repeating the exercise didn’t seem to help, as nothing else had. He had “Changed His Location” twice already and Stanley probably thinks he has an overactive bladder problems.
It was hard enough when Angela was constantly blowing hot and cold throughout their relationship to the point where it drove him what he suspected was purposefully insane. Now, though, with the entire office knowing about their embarrassing business and having to find out about it after your co-workers? Actually by way of your co-workers, thanks to Phyllis. It was just a terrible situation all-around and having to sit in the same room as Angela and Dwight was just the cherry on top.
The microwave let out a few harsh beeps to let him know it was finished, but he dragged his feet getting up. He wished he could move his computer into another room. Maybe the annex is open, now that Toby is gone. He just wasn’t sure if giving up such a prime location out front of Michael’s office was such a good idea. He would miss his buddy Jim, too. Plus, Kelly Kapoor was infinitely annoying and couldn’t get a hint even if it was on sale at the mall. The idea of getting away from Dwight and Angela was a strong argument, enough that he would consider it for later. He blew over his mug and headed back out to his desk.
He tried to act as normal as possible, pretending that he didn’t see Pam’s stare from across the reception desk where she looked to be going through voicemails, or Creed biting his pencil and head tilted to watch him. That might just be because he still hadn’t paid Andy back.
It wasn’t until he sat down and found a scrap of paper for his mug to fit on that he noticed the envelope on his keyboard. He looked around, wondering who had put it there. Angela? It had no label on the front. It couldn’t be from his parents, since they had the return address stickers with the little St. Bernards on the corners. Any of his Cornell buddies would have put “Nard Dog” as big as it would fit across the front. He looked around the office and found Jim staring off to his side, but otherwise directly at Andy and realized the camera was on both of them. So, Jim? He could have just sent his mail electronically, just like when he answers forwards with a wish to stop receiving them. Which Andy just considers part of their rapport, Andy and the Tuna.
“Tu-na, this seems a bit unnecessary. You could have just CC’d me,” Andy trumpeted out in Jim’s direction.
This prompted Dwight, who had just put down the phone to swing his head towards Andy, as well. Andy’s jaw ticked instinctively as he met Dwight’s gaze, but quickly reverted to “Using Silly Humor” hoping to keep himself calm.
“Nope,” Jim breathed out and did that upside down smile thing he does with his mouth. Not quite a frown, but not really a smirk.
Andy’s face changed to a blank, confused expression as he tore open the side of the envelope and yanked out the contents quickly. Eyes lighting up, his mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ shape. He jumped up from his desk and ran over to Pam’s, rambling on about how hard he was going to work and how he wouldn’t let either of the existing members down. Pam had to shake his hand to get him go back to his desk. Eventually the same thing happened at lunch time to Oscar.
--
When Jim left reception after congratulating Pam on things going perfectly, he swears he saw tears in Andy’s eyes while trying to keep the paper flat enough to put into his now empty frame. Looking back at Pam, just going over a handful of documents before they were to be faxed to Buffalo as if she hadn’t just made the guy’s year, he felt the same warmness in his gut. He couldn’t wait for them to go back to his place, make some delicious grilled cheese sandwiches, watch whatever they still had from NetFlix, and take the little black box out before it managed to burn a hole through his sock drawer.
Pam turned back to get a post-it from her monitor and caught Jim’s stare, tilting her head she gave a wide, goofy grin in return to his calm, unreadable face. He counted to ten, trying to keep from taking a long lunch break and pushing up his schedule.
To his left, Andy was wiping up some of the coffee that had spilled across his desk when he jumped up too quickly with a big grin on his face. Jim spun his chair towards Pam and gave her a smug grin and a head tilt towards Andy’s desk. Bowing with a hand looping flourish, five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough when Pam winked back at him.