The amount of snot a person produces doesn’t define them as a person. While not his first pick for a senior quote, it is still a worthy thought to live with. The quote chosen wasn’t memorable enough but read along the lines of inspirational, perfect for a still bright eyed student to exit adolescence into adulthood.

The adulthood where after an amount of unemployment that shall be unannounced- due to the shame of writing cover letters or not- could be called an art. Or in the case of Cae, trash seeking journey, just without all the excitement the real thing could bring.

Paper filled trash cans and the sexy but mysterious water cooler did not function efficiently to ease craving towards weekends but were worth enough to wake up. The only problem was the manager. Dress shirt tucked in a way an influencer in New York would be sent into a comma, that one, specifically. He who made snarky comments towards matcha and iced americanos, wasn’t only nosey in the lunch break room. The scared place of dread and drinking, the only place newly employed homeboy could play games on that damn phone of his.

Got pulled aside, apparently the joys of winning games were, “too loud” and “scared customers.” That day was easy to remember, the height difference made the view up his nose as easy to see as the LED lights of a truck. The one who disrupts workplace pace had the audacity to complain when making the office sound reminiscent to a movie theater playing a tragic movie. Nod and “Yes sir” out of the interaction, that’s what Cae did. But being the type of man he was, the manger’s voice echoed even at his own home.

“Danny, am I that loud?” Cae asked, holding his phone with his shoulder to his ear, untying earbuds with his hands. His friend and coworker give a “maybe.” How dare he hedge his way out of this matter, the flipping of book paper heard on the other side of the phone.

That night, Cae had a dream. Where his only way of throwing the embarrassment of being told off, was by breaking and entering manger’s house. Turning all he could, he would rise his water bill. Too bad the passcode to his house wasn’t knowledge in public domain. On the upcoming morning, Cae stole a noticeable amount of tissues on the manger’s desk. For what could this truly achieve, was beyond mortal understanding. But he continued to do so. Until the tissue box designs changed on the desk more often than the overprice reusable metal cups colors on the desk of his coworkers. The Tissue Thief, a name Cae said to Danny was his nicknam, one only Cae used on himself.

Felt good, to cause secret trouble during lunch break, but his stolen stash of tissue started going out of hand. Not even his absent mother figure wanted them, and running a tissue business was too much of a side gig for a lazy guy.

There was a puppy in the mirror and Cae’s blanket and rug became tissue despite never bringing any home. That’s what led to him stacking them all neatly in a janitor’s closet. He was gonna return them all at once. He carried the stack under his suit jacket, from an angle, it seemed Cae suddenly sprouted double Ds but the path was clear.

Until an employee Cae could never win over was idling in the hallway. He was a baddie, not the sexy type but the ones who smash your face into the ground instead of their chest. All that extra tissue under his jacket would soften the hit if things came to worst, but he wasn’t going to risk it. Cae threw a couple of tissues into the other’s face and booked it to the manager’s desk. The box was more stuffed than a thanksgiving turkey but the job was done.

He went home that day, feeling relieved.