Anniversary

When people describe an eccentric and rich old man, they probably are describing a man not unlike Bartleby Jones. Gregarious and still energetic as ever at the young age of seventy one, Bartleby Jones was what would you call...strange, but in the best way possible. So when the announcement was made for the company to gather at the atrium on the ground floor after lunch that day for a speech from their owner and CEO, there were rampant rumors flying around. Would they now be offered an option of receiving Jello instead of cash for overtime? Would razor scooters be the new mode of intraoffice transportation? Would Mondays now become luau Mondays including pig roasts?

The employees of Bartleby's Socks and Shoes gathered expectanctly as instructed and Bartleby Jones showed up at noon on the dot, standing on a podium on an upper floor that looked down on the atrium crowd. He wore a green suit and a polka dot tie and his cheerful voice boomed through the mike.

"Thank you for coming today," he said. "You're all probably wondering why I called you here today. Some of you may have been here long enough to actually attest to this. Bartleby's Socks and Shoes has been opened for forty years today. I thank you all, who I consider my family, and have made it possible."

An applause broke through the crowd, not the polite applause one might expect, but a raucous one with hooting and hollering. They were truly excited. An exception to the corporate world, working at this company was a pleasure. They felt appreciated there. Their owner even knew some of their names and often addressed them informally when he made rounds around the office.

"In celebration today, I have decided to share with you some of the good fortune this company has seen in the last forty years."

He reached from behind him to produce a large device with wide-diameter tube behind it.

"I'm told they use these on New Year's Eve to shoot confetti into the crowds," he said.

He flipped a switch, and in a short moment, a fountain of green shot from the device and rained on the crowd. Singles, fives, tens, and twenties fluttered down into the atrium, turning it into a veritable swimming pool of cash.