A Day in the Life of Dwight Schrute, By DoofusPrime
Notes - If it wasn't obvious from the description, this story takes place before the series itself and follows Dwight as he deals with Jim's first day at the office. Enjoy!
A rooster's crow pierces the silent morning air and wakes me up as it sounds through the open crack in my bedroom window. I shoot bolt upright in my bed. It was a cold night, and there aren't many covers on my bed, but I find that the cold air coming from the window crack keeps me alert, even in sleep. I am already dressed, since it's much more efficient to get dressed before going to sleep rather than wasting valuable time putting on work clothes in the morning. The rooster - Bismarck, my faithful alarm clock, who lives in the barn outside – crows loudly again.
It's another morning on Schrute farms. A morning like any other. I am fully awake, and I look forward to being productive and selling Dunder Mifflin paper products today.
I walk purposefully into the small closet that I've remodeled as a bathroom by adding a sink. As I brush my teeth with baking soda – a necessary product for any successful farm, and not just for cleaning teeth – I think about the dreams I had last night. The dreams of Schrutes have always been very down-to-earth, very practical. I was always creative for a Schrute, and so I sometimes dream about space operas or Japanese animation. Anime, for those in the know. Sometimes, I also dream of myself in scenarios where I defeat my enemies using a simultaneous combination of stealthy finesse and overwhelming force.
Last night, however, my dreams were more down to earth. Literally. Beet farming, mostly, dreaming of the upcoming harvest. Although Angela Martin popped into a particular scene. Something about that little accountant...
"Dwight, I made breakfast!"
A spray of baking soda froth hits the mirror as the voice startles me. It's Mose, and I forgot that he's taken to sleeping in the barn lately. The rooster must have woken him up even more quickly than it did me. I spit, rinse, and turn around to find him in the door frame with a plate of fresh-cooked bacon balanced in his hands. The smell awakens a predatory instinct as my nostrils flare up. If the beets were ready a few days earlier, we could have had bacon and beet juice. A meal for champions.
"What did I tell you about bringing food up here, Mose?" I ask my cousin, wagging a finger. "I'll be down in the kitchen in just a minute."
Mose nods nervously and retreats downstairs as I finish my morning hygiene routine. I follow him down and take a seat, eating my plate of bacon quickly. It's delicious, but there's no point wasting time in savoring it. I'm looking forward to going to work even more than usual, after all. This may be a morning like any other, but I happen to know that a new employee is joining the team, and today is his first day. A certain Jim Halpert. Salesman. Maybe he'll prove to be a useful ally, if he has enough sense to learn the lore of Dunder Mifflin paper products from the company's leading paper salesman. Which is me.
"Mose," I say through a mouthful of crackling bacon, "no more whittling today. I don't have room for all those figures anymore. You need to start harvesting the beets, got it?"
"Okay Dwight," says Mose as he scratches his beard absently.
"How was your night in the barn, by the way?"
"Scratchy. And I think an raccoon bit me when I was asleep."
Mose shows me the bite mark on his ankle, and I nod before drinking my cup of orange juice in one gulp. I like to save it until after the bacon.
After I finish breakfast and clean up, I decide to go out and give the property a quick look before I go to work, just to make sure everything is in order. The sun is up, the air is invigorating, and my beets are healthy and robust. Of course I can't see that, since the beet roots themselves are in the ground, but I've developed a sixth sense for estimating their appearance under the dirt. I'm also glad to find no teenagers fornicating in the bushes anywhere or stealing from my hemp enclosure. The farm is well-maintained. No surprise, since I'm the one maintaining it.
Today is an exciting day to be both a farmer and a Dunder Mifflin employee, but office work comes first. When I get back, I can join Mose in the beet fields. There's no way I'm letting him harvest all those beets, after all - not that he could do it all without my help, I tell myself with a chuckle. Even with my back and arm strength, the harvest will take several days. And even if my cousin could pick them all, Dwight Schrute isn't going to miss out on that much fun.
"Are you leaving for your day place now?" asks Mose, watching me as I look over the beet fields. He's holding my briefcase for me, as he always does in the mornings. Mose is very considerate.
"Yes Mose," I say as I take the briefcase. "Thank you."
I walk to my Trans Am, parked in the dirt road leading away from farmhouse, and throw my briefcase into the passenger seat before revving it up. As I begin to drive away from my property, Mose follows alongside the car for a few moments, partly as his way of saying goodbye, and partly because he likes to limber up in the fresh morning air. I watch him as he disappears into the rear view mirror, and I find myself anticipating the coming work day. It's time to meet my new coworker.
It's been almost half an hour since I got to work, and I still haven't met this Jim Halpert yet. Michael's office door is closed, but I can see movement behind the blinds, as well as the sound of Jan Levinson Gould and Michael talking together. Our new sales employee is in the room with them – apparently undergoing some kind of training, which started before work hours actually began. I'm a little annoyed that I wasn't informed of this early training meeting, as I can't provide any input now. But I'm sure Michael is doing a great job.
I decide to take a brief break from my work and make a visit to the receptionist's desk. "Hello Pam," I say as I keep an eye on Michael's office door in case they come out.
Pam looks at me, a little vacantly, and returns my greeting while suppressing a yawn.
Pam was also in the office before I arrived – it's rare that any of my coworkers get to the office before me. Seeing her there when I got to work almost made me wonder if Bismarck had failed me and crowed at the wrong time. I assume Michael asked her to come in early as well, although I don't know why she wouldn't be in the meeting.
"Tell me, when are Michael and Jan going to be done speaking to our new employee?"
"I don't know."
As receptionist, it seems to me that Pam should know this. But I want to be on Pam's good side, at least for the moment, so I restrain myself from shaking my head disapprovingly. "So you've talked to this Jim Halpert?" I ask her.
"A little," said Pam. "I was in the meeting earlier, but I had to come out to get a phone call."
"Shouldn't you be going back in?" I ask her.
"They weren't talking about anything that had to do with me. I'm sure they'll ask if they want me to come back in."
I help myself to some black jellybeans from the container in front of Pam's desk as I lean closer to her, establishing a sense of familiarity. I've already done my research, but Pam might have some insight as a result of meeting Jim in person already.
"How'd he strike you, Pam?"
Pam leans back a little for some reason.
"He seemed friendly. I didn't get the chance to talk to him much."
I roll my eyes dismissively and take a seat at my desk. Pam is timid, inattentive – if she were a wild animal, she would be torn apart by bigger, stronger animals as soon as she left her forest hiding place. As a human receptionist, I have to admit she's competent enough, but I could have used more intel on this Halpert before coming face to face with him. Not that I'm nervous. Cautious, calculating. But not nervous. I'm completely confident I'll establish dominance through aggressive posture, hand shaking, and eye contact.
My curiosity gets the better of me and I walk to Michael's office. I'm about to open the door and see what's going on, even if it interrupts their meeting, but Michael and the new employee come out instead. Jan Levenson-Gould is following behind them. Michael doesn't see me – I'm a very silent walker – and he almost smacks into me before backing up with a gasp and running into Jim Halpert, who is just behind him.
"For God's sake, Dwight! All the time, why-"
"Sorry Michael," I say. "I just wanted to greet our new employee."
"Well here he is," says Michael as he stands aside and motions to new employee. "Knock yourself out."
"Hello Jim Halpert. I am Dwight Schrute, Assistant Regional Manager of this branch."
"Assistant to the Regional Manager," Michael interrupts.
I shake my head imperceptibly at Jim, in order to subtly let him know it's just a matter of semantics.
"Hello Dwight," says Jim. "Nice to meet you."
He reaches out to shake my hand, and I accept. I'm unimpressed by his weak grip, and he breaks off the handshake with no attempt to outlast me. Pathetic.
"By the way, how'd you know my name already?" he asks.
"I know a lot of things about you, Jim."
Michael shoots me a look of disapproval. For what reason, I do not know.
"If you're done creeping out the new guy, Dwight, I'd like to show him around the office and give him a little tour of Dunder Mifflin before-"
"No!" I say, not wanting to give up an early opportunity to mold Jim Halpert's mind and make sure he doesn't hear any lies about me from coworkers. "Please, let me do it!"
"You're not the manager Dwight, I-"
"I'm Assistant Regional Manager, Michael. I'll do an excellent job, I promise."
Michael looks like he's about to continue arguing, but Jan speaks first.
"Thank you, Dwight, that's a good idea," she says. "Give Jim a little tour and make sure he feels at home. Jim, if you have any questions, you can talk to Michael later, and you can feel free to call me once I get back to New York. We're happy to have you on the team."
Michael looks upset at being undercut, and he gives Jan a questioning look. I would feel bad for stealing his opportunity to show Jim around now that their meeting is over, but Dwight Schrute takes his opportunities when he sees them.
Jan notices Michael's hurt expression. "You don't need to be wasting time giving office tours," she says after looking around the office and lowering her voice. "We still need to discuss the corporate credit card incident, and Randall wants to be in on this discussion over the phone as well."
"Oh, come on! Why's Randall need to get invol-"
"Look, Michael - after so many incidents, it's impossible for the CFO not to take an interest, okay? Now, I'd like to speak to you in your office, please. Alone."
"That last time was just a misunderstanding!" Michael tells her. "I didn't see the prices on the menu before I-"
The rest of their conversation is cut off as they both disappear into Michael's office. Jan closes the door behind them. I turn to our new employee, sizing him up; he seems a little nervous. I wasn't nervous on my first day on the job. I barely know what the emotion feels like, actually. Nervous or not, it's time to give Jim the office tour. During the time we spend together, I can put my investigative skills to use and give his personality a deep, deep probing.
"I am the top salesman around here," I tell him. "Don't think you can ever beat me, but if you stick around, you might learn a few things. Follow me and I will introduce you to everyone."
We begin to walk.
"So what do you get for being the top paper salesman at Dunder Mifflin?" Jim asks.
"Not just Dunder Mifflin," I correct him. "All of Scranton." I haven't actually verified this statistic recently, but I'm almost certain it's true. "And I get the satisfaction of utter perfection, of course."
"Gotcha. No awards? Money?"
"I don't need more money," I tell him. "In addition to selling paper, I make a good living selling beets."
Jim purses his lips and raises an eyebrow at me, which I can tell is his way of expressing how impressive my numerous wealth-generating talents are to him. I don't blame him. I grab a paper from my desk, and before our conversation can go any further, we take a walk over to the accounting department. The only reason I am choosing to introduce Jim to the accountants first is because I had this form to give to Angela anyway.
"Jim, meet Oscar Nunez, Kevin Malone, Tom Peets, and Angela Martin, our office accountants. You'll have several forms that you will need to give them as part of your job. Some on a bi-weekly basis, some on a monthly basis. Turning them in cannot be delayed under any circumstances."
"Hey guys," says Jim. He points to the ceramic felines placed on top of the desk partition between Kevin and Angela's desks. "Nice cats."
"Thank you," says Angela.
I have to agree with Jim's statement. Although cats are not the most useful of farm animals unless you have a rat infestation, there is something strangely charming about Angela's little ceramic figures.
I must admit that while my visit to the accounting department is purely professional, I do enjoy talking to Angela much more than Kevin and Oscar. And especially more than Tom, as he's always in a sour mood around the office. Sort of like a sadder version of Toby. But Angela is different than the rest of them; she has a respect for authority and power, like myself, and she knows how to keep her emotions – as well as her clothing choices - under strict control. Unlike some other ladies in the office, who will not be named.
Kevin holds up his open glass container of M&M's. "Want some?" he asks Jim.
"Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. So how do you guys like accounting?"
"It's very exciting," Angela informs him earnestly.
"Oh yes," adds Oscar. "It's a real roller coaster. If you wanted excitement and social interaction, you really shouldn't have taken a job in sales."
Oscar smirks at Jim, who chuckles in reply. Tom looks like he's lost in a funk as usual, and Kevin looks as confused as I am. I do not understand what's so funny, and for a moment I suspect they're sharing some kind of inside joke against me, but I decide it's not the case. "Come on, Jim," I say, deciding he's had enough of an introduction to the accounting department.
I introduce him to Stanley, Phyllis, and Meredith, and fortunately manage to overlook Creed, which Jim does not notice. Creed unnerves me. How a person can be so strange and off-putting without realizing it is a mystery to me.
I also take him back to the Annex, where Kelly is fortunately missing and can't annoy us with her chatter – maybe she's in the women's bathroom. I introduce him to Toby, the H.R. Representative for our branch.
"H.R. Rep?" asks Jim. "Shouldn't you have been in the meeting this morning?"
Toby rubs his eyes a little, looking confused. "Meeting?"
"It was like an orientation meeting, I guess. For the new employee," Jim adds as he points a thumb at himself.
"Michael didn't tell me anything about a meeting."
Toby and Jim stand in awkward silence for a few moments before I clear my throat and lead Jim out of the Annex. I'm sure Toby was supposed to be at the meeting, but my guess is that Jan had told Michael to let Toby know he needed to come in early, at which point Michael forgot to pass that along to Toby. It's happened before. Finally, we arrive at the receptionist's desk.
"Hmm," says Jim as we approach the desk. "You look familiar."
Pam laughs. "Have we met?"
"Oh, wait, I – you were that girl in Michael's office taking notes, right? Now I remember!"
"Pam Beesly," she says as she shakes Jim's hand.
This is another exchange I don't understand, as the two of them met each other less than an hour ago in the meeting with Jan and Michael, and yet they're acting like they don't recognize each other. Maybe Jim is even slower than Kevin. I wonder if Dunder Mifflin's standards have been slipping since they hired me.
"Dwight's introducing me to everybody," says Jim, helping himself to a couple of jellybeans as he leans against Pam's desk. "Did you know he's the top salesman in the office?"
"I did, actually. He's mentioned it before."
I am pleased that Jim and Pam have both made a note of my sales ability. Maybe he isn't as slow as I thought.
"So how'd the meeting go?" asks Pam.
"It was interesting. There was a very topical movie parody video."
"Oh boy. Yeah, Michael always has videos."
"Looking forward to the life of a paper salesman?"
"Well, this is just temporary," Jim says quickly.
"That's not a good attitude for success," I tell him, interrupting their inane conversation. "You need to put your heart and soul into selling paper while you're here."
"You know, you're totally right, Dwight. Forget I said anything," he says to me before turning back to Pam. "As for the meeting, tell me Pam - is it just me, or is Michael kind of..."
His sentence trails off as he looks at me from the corner of his eye.
"What?" I ask him. "Is Michael kind of what?"
"Um - a good boss?"
I don't know why he trailed off, or why he phrased his response as a question, but Jim is correct. Michael is a very good boss.
"Definitely," says Pam, giving Jim a big smile. "Michael's a great boss. That meeting was nothing, believe me. You'll see a lot more of how good he is in the future. Like, as soon as Jan is gone. In five minutes, probably."
"Enough chit chat," I tell Pam. "I need to introduce Jim to the warehouse workers now."
"Nice to meet you again, Jim Halpert," Pam says as we leave the office.
"You too, Pam Beesly."
Jim is obviously trying to exercise some kind of charm on Pam, and I find their interchange disgusting. Not to mention that Jim has no chance, which he'll soon find out. I'm glad to cut their conversation off.
"Dunder Mifflin was founded by Robert Dunder and Robert Mifflin," I tell Jim as he follows me out of the offices. "There are other companies that share the park with us, like Vance Refrigeration. There is a cripple named Billy Merchant who manages the office park property, which is leased by Beakman properties, incidentally. If you have any complaints, you may direct them to Billy's number, which I will provide to you when we return. Be careful down here," I say as we arrive at the door leading to a stairway which descends into the warehouse. "The workers below aren't like us. They can be a little rowdy."
I don't particularly want to introduce Jim to the warehouse workers any more than I wanted to deal with introducing him to Creed, but I must be thorough, and sometimes there are reasons to visit the warehouse. Seeing the warehouse is also an excellent way to Jim to learn just how lucky he is to be a salesperson at Dunder Mifflin instead of working down here.
Unfortunately, a number of the warehouse workers are missing – on break, I assume. Jim will have wait until later to meet Pam's fiancé, the old man, the stocky red haired woman, and the large black man. I know Darryl is a harder worker than some of his subordinates, so I open his office door to see if he's there. Sure enough, he's inside at his desk. I am about to greet him when I catch sight of what he is doing and shrink back in disgust.
Darryl holds a jello cup in one hand. A spoon filled with a quivering green mass is held in the other, suspended halfway to his mouth. I despise jello. Maybe even more than I despise radishes for being ugly little beet imitators.
"Dwight - please knock on my door when you want something."
"I need to introduce you to our new salesman," I tell Darryl, trying to ignore the spoonful of jello he inserts into his mouth. "This is Jim Halpert."
"Hey," says Jim as he shakes Darryl's hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Ditto. Darryl, warehouse manager. So you got some new competition, huh Dwight?"
"No, I do not. I do not have any kind of competition. The idea is absurd."
Jim cocks his head sideways at me while looking at the warehouse manager.
"He's the top paper salesman in the company, did you know?"
"You know what," says Darryl, "I think maybe he mentioned that a couple times."
I get the distinct impression that some kind of joke is being made, possibly at my expense. The office tour has taken long enough, and Jim has met everyone with any importance, so I decide I will cut it short. Not to mention that I'm growing queasy from the close proximity to jello. It's not that I'm afraid of it – I am afraid of nothing – but there is something disgusting about the translucency and the quivering.
I show Jim a few of the warehouse's important features for a few minutes. None of the other workers have come back from their break, which has already taken longer than Dunder Mifflin regulations permit. It's time to go back to work, so I lead Jim back to the stairs going up to the office.
"Not a fan of jello?" asks Jim. Clearly he noticed my reaction to Darryl's snack.
"Of course not."
"There's always room for jello."
"There is no room for jello, ever."
Jim grunts as we walk back up the stairs, and I begin to wonder if I have unintentionally given away too much by admitting to my hatred for jello. It would be a weakness, if I had weaknesses, but I don't, so it's not really a weakness. More like a strength which Jim could use against me. It's true that Jim seems more promising than Stanley or Phyllis, but I still don't know for sure if he can be trusted. The less he knows about me, the better.
But no matter. Judging by his easygoing attitude, floppy hair, and flippant attitude, there's no way he has the cunning of a Schrute. I'm sure I'll be safe.
Notes - There will be two more chapters coming up. This is my first fan fic for The Office, so I'd love to read some reviews and see what you guys think of it. Hope you're enjoying it so far. And just as an afterthought, it's kind of annoying that parentheses are not allowed in the story description. I wanted "to the" in parentheses but apparently they don't show up.