The Three Pete's

Photo by myself outside the Bedford Avenue subway station in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

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This weekend, Mark and I will probably take it very easy. Mark is working today, so I'm taking Monday off, which is an optional holiday for us.

Both Mark and I are low energy. He's caught a lesser strain of my cold. Plus, his knee will have to be operated on soon. It's supposed to be a short procedure, less than an hour, to repair a torn ligament. Hopefully then, he'll be as good as new.

Meanwhile, I'll be taking hot baths, lounging with the cat and cleaning my apartment. It'll be nice to hibernate and patter around.

I've been thinking about how minor my speaking issues are. I could be a slacker, a compulsive liar or a substance abuser. There are more difficult things to overcome.

A couple such people passed through our office since I've been there. I have to wonder whether it's just New York, or whether these people exist everywhere.

One guy, whom I'll call Pete, was a compulsive liar. Pete made up all sorts of excuses for days he took off, and some were quite insane - beyond the usual cold, flu, stomach ache, food poisoning and locking oneself out of the apartment, Pete had to take a day off to prep for the Gay Pride parade, he had impromptu jury duty, and he threw up on himself at Starbucks and had to run home and change his shirt.

We were desperate for help at the time and kept Pete on, until my coworker who worked with Pete was granted access to his office email. Then we found that Pete emailed many of the office drawings to a personal email account. That was the last straw. Pete was canned, and the office warned that it would pursue litigation. Our lawyers were notified but for whatever reason, nothing came of it. The rest of us fumed over Pete's daring.

In my years in New York, I've worked alongside three Pete's. Another guy sat next to me and during our first conversation, told me he worked at a particular well-known office.

'Oh really?' I asked. 'I worked there, too. When were you there?'

'Um, I didn't actually work there. I worked at (another smaller, unknown office nearby).' He had basically lied.

I told one of my coworkers who chalked it up to insecurity. It turned out to be a red flag. Pete II turned out to be a slacker who completely messed up a project and lied about the hours he worked. He was later canned, but we heard through the grapevine that he'd landed a titled position at another very well-known firm. Incredible.

Pete III happened years ago, when I worked at a smaller company. He decided not to come in one day. He missed meetings, and days of work. He returned a few phone calls, but nothing happened. Eventually, weeks later, he was canned. Reportedly he said to the boss that he was just waiting to be let go. Incredible.

I wonder how these Pete's sleep at night. Why is it that I think they sleep much more soundly than I do?