The Wearin’ o’ the Green
By: Heidi L. Lane
March 17, 2003
“Hey, Danny, what’s with this memo?” Martin asked leaning on the wall of the other agent’s cubicle. He looked down at the memo he’d received that morning and read, “‘Because of the incidents of last year, agents and other personnel are not to wear green or otherwise participate in festivities during work hours on or preceding St. Patrick’s Day.’ Can she do that? Tell us what we can an’ can’t wear?” Martin looked at his partner and asked, “What happened last year?”
“Some folks got a little out of hand… dyed their hair green, had office parties, that sort of thing,” Danny explained.
“What, are we in high school?” Martin shook his head in disbelief.
“If it really bothers you, Fitzy, talk to Jack about it. It’s bound to bother him too, I mean, with a name like Malone.”
“I think I will talk to him,” Martin said, walking towards the supervisory agent’s office. On his way there he passed Vivian. He paused in thought and then turned towards the senior agent, “Vivian,” he called, “Do you know if Jack’s busy?”
“I don’t think he has any pressing business, just the usual reports and paperwork,” she replied. Martin nodded and grinned at the older woman. “Vivian, what do you think about this rule against wearing green?”
“Well…” Vivian began.
“I think it’s the most intrusive bureaucratic nonsense she’s come up with yet,” Martin heard from behind him. Turning back around, he saw Jack walking towards him. Holding up a hand to forestall a response from Vivian he continued, “I know why she decided to make it; but it could have been done differently.”
“If she was afraid it would get out of hand she could have integrated it into the dress code. That’s what they did in Seattle,” Martin said with a nod.
“Danny told you about last year?” Vivian asked.
Martin nodded again and said, “A little.”
Sam peered over the wall of her cubicle and added, “People came in last year wearing tee-shirts, sweatshirts, ball caps, not professional at all.”
Martin nodded in acknowledgement, “Well, we have to look professional. But to tell us not to wear green, in New York City, where there’s this huge parade, it’s just…”
“Stupid,” Jack supplied. “As far as I’m concerned, you can wear green, just look professional doing it.” Smiling slightly at the other agents, Jack turned to go back to his office. Without turning around her called back, “And don’t let Van Doran see you, this is her rule.”
**
March 17
“Nice tie,” Danny quipped as Martin came into the office.
“What? It’s navy blue with little green stripes,” Martin said, setting a small box on Sam’s desk. Smiling he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out three more boxes.
“What are those?” Danny asked.
“Mementos of the day,” Martin replied handing him one. “Van Doran said we couldn’t wear green; she didn’t say anything about decorating.”
Danny shrugged and opened the little box and, pulling out the tissue paper, he found a porcelain teddy bear dressed in a green sweater. “Cute,” he said.
“I thought so,” Martin called back as he set another box on Vivian’s desk. He peered into Jack’s office and grinned when he found it empty. Quickly and quietly, he went inside and set the last box on his supervisor’s desk.
He was just making his way back to his desk when he heard Sam say, “Oh, how adorable. Look, Danny, it’s a kitten with a little green dress on.”
“Mine’s a bear with a sweater,” Danny called back.
“Where’d they come from?” she asked.
“Martin,” Vivian replied, picking up her box. “I recognize the handwriting.” He smiled and shrugged, taking another box out of his coat pocket. He unwrapped the figurines within and set them on his own desk. “They’re darling, Martin,” Vivian continued, “But Van Doran doesn’t approve of the giving of gifts; thinks it causes favoritism.”
Martin shook his head and snorted, “That’ll happen. Morning, Jack,” he called as the older man entered the office area.
“Happy St. Patrick’s Day,” he replied. “Martin, I see you’ve chosen to disregard the directive from on high.”
Martin rolled his eyes and replied, “Jack your shirt is green.”
“Is it?” he glanced down, “So it is… oh well.”
Martin grinned as he turned on his computer.
**
Some time later, Martin felt someone behind his shoulder. “E-mails on company time, Agent Fitzgerald?”
Looking up he found Paula Van Doran looking over his shoulder. “It’s a communication with a contact I have, ma’am. This is the only way I can contact him; he doesn’t have a phone number.”
“Alright,” suddenly her eyes narrowed, “What color is that tie, Agent Fitzgerald?”
“Navy, ma’am.”
“Are those green stripes?”
Martin looked down at his tie and looked back up at her, feigning shock, “I didn’t notice that this morning, ma’am.”
Though she looked skeptical she nodded, “What about those?” she asked pointing at the figurines on his desk.
“Mmm… figurines.”
“What kind of figurines?”
“Kittens… bears… bunnies –”
“What are they dressed as, Agent?”
“Mmm… I just got them because they were sweet looking, ma’am,” Martin said ingenuously.
“Didn’t the memo also say no festivities, Agent?” she asked, glaring at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Martin replied.
“Put the figurines away, Agent Fitzgerald and change your tie. If I return from your supervisor’s office and that is not done, you will have a mark on your record for this insubordination.”
Martin’s eyes got wide. Insubordination would get in the way of any future promotions and some choice assignments. Nodding, he said, “Yes, ma’am.” Shaking his head and loosening his tie, he muttered, “Wow, she sure takes her intrusive, bureaucratic rules seriously.” He peered around the edge of his cubicle and whispered, “Danny!”
Danny looked at him and pointed at his desk drawer to show that he’d already hidden the contraband figurine. Martin rolled his eyes and returned to his computer accessing Instant Messenger he wrote, “Samantha, hide the kitty!” and “Viv, hide the bunny!”
Seconds later he got two messages back: “Already did. Thanks.” and “Oh, no! Did you get in trouble?” The second one was from Vivian.
Martin grinned and typed back, “She threatened me with insubordination!”
“Yikes!” was the reply. Moments later Van Doran exited Jack’s office with a scowl on her face. She looked over in Martin’s direction and he reached into his drawer to get another tie. She nodded as she walked by him and saw that he was putting on a black tie with what looked like orange spots on it.
After she’d left Jack peered out of the break room and asked, “She gone?”
“She’s gone, Jack. It’s safe to come out,” Vivian replied.
“She’s got issues, man,” Danny said. “She threatened Fitzy with insubordination because of his tie and the figurines. What are those on your tie?”
“Jack o’ lanterns, it’s a Halloween tie. Could you not call me Fitzy, Danny?” Martin asked quietly. “She’s scary.”
“She’s nuts,” Sam agreed.
“She’s the boss, so don’t let her hear you saying anything about her,” Vivian pointed out. “She said something about you fomenting rebellion, Jack,”
“What are we, French Peasants?” Jack asked.
“Do we get cake?” Danny asked.
“No! No festivities!” Martin reminded.
“After work,” Jack promised, grinning. All the agents grinned in anticipation of the after work party Jack had planned the previous day. Jack looked over at Martin and asked, “Did it have to have orange on it?”
“It was the only tie I had,” Martin said, shrugging.
End