Dreaming

Due to the changing of the seasons, my mind is occupied with two things: vacations and motorcycles; both of which present big problems in my current life situation.

My employer has allowed me very limited vacation time (at least in my estimation its limited-- as I type this I hear in the back of my head either of my older brothers saying, "Man, you got it easy." Seems I've been hearing that from them since I can remember) and my "Want-To-Do" list is unlimited and seemingly endless.

So, a few weeks ago I approached my boss in an effort to get time off. I sat down at his desk, and somehow he knew what I was there for. "No, you cannot have time off," were the first words he said to me, before I had even spoken. Foiled! He won the battle before it had even started! But the war had just begun. I returned to my desk, practically unable to think about anything but the injustices of work, and the cruelties heaped upon me by my tyrant of a boss. So I formulated a plan.

The next day I called my boss from an office upstairs where I temporarily work. "We need to talk," I said, "and bring your calendar, cause we need to schedule my summer." In a few moments he arrived.
"Ok, so what month," he asked.
"Lets start with June." He smiled like I was joking as he opened up his calendar. I was prepared with a yellow highlighter, and promptly highlighted six consecutive days in June, leaving a nice yellow streak across the page.
"Now lets turn over to August," I said. My boss's face was expressionless, and I imagine he was dreaming up a scare tactic he could use to keep me from going. I highlighted another week in August. My boss remained mute. He looked from me to the calendar, and from the calendar to me, hoping to intimidate me with his silence.
I began, "I'm not here to negotiate this with you. However, I understand that my employment here is negotiable, and if we can't make this work, I completely understand." I'll add here that this was no bluff. On the way to work that morning I imagined placing my personal contents into a cardboard box and kissing that place goodbye, and half expected that to happen. It was a worst case scenario, but still a possibility and something that I wanted to avoid. "At this point in my life," I continued, "I have opportunities that I wont have down the road, and I need a job with flexibility."

Straight faced, he looked me down with those cold blue eyes of his, and said, "Well, I'm not going to fire you." Victory! Trying to save face, he explained that the only reason I can go is because he is nice. His generosity is allowing me to have this much time off. Anyone else, he explained, would fire me, "on the spot," as he put it. All the while I nodded my head, profusely thanking him for his kindness.

Good sportsmanship requires the victor to humbly acknowledge the valor of his opponent, and I happily did so by agreeing with every self-acclamation he threw at me. At the end of the day, I got what I wanted: vacation time and a job.