"Sorry" Is Not What We Meant To Say, but "We Quit" Is

Roman's POV

Okay, first off, let me just say that that quote I've seen about blowing out someone's candle not making your own candle burn brighter rings true, regarding what I went through and, though my current job still has its ups and downs, I don't regret all I've done to get to where I am now.

Anyway, before I endlessly ramble, let's leap into it like Stevonnie leaping into water. Several years back, I took a job at a local children's amusement area. You know the type; play places for children, food, tickets, the occasional parent treating the place like a daycare service, and mascots. The last one was my position while working at the area. Now, before you ask, I'm not an undead entity trapped in a suit that short circuited and locked me in. I just dressed as a dog dressed as a kid, encouraging the power of imagination with a job of remaining seen and not heard, while entertaining the kids and giving them a reason to keep coming back. I'm a thespian, so acting as a character wasn't too hard for me. According to my boss at the time, though, there is apparently such a thing as "enjoying my job too much," as he would berate me for making a fool of myself while in costume (dancing with the kids, giving hugs when asked, posing with them for pictures, even taking advantage of the fact that the paws have functioning fingers so I can do sign language to accommodate for some deaf guests and then some). He constantly recommended that I just stand and wave as the customers come and go and I constantly argue that I was just doing my job and giving the kids a reason to come back. If I remember right, a former coworker even told me that the overly-serious boss kept considering firing me until the customer surveys and reviews constantly gave him reasons not to. I kept feeling like he (whom I'll be referring to as Herbert from now on) kept forgetting that the place was supposed to be enjoyable for children and not just adults.

You'd think it would only be the case when I was on duty, but no. Make jokes and comments about Disney while on lunch break? Berate. Give male co-workers advice about being romantic after closing time? Berate, if caught. Singing to myself before opening while getting myself in costume? Berate as if I'm not supposed to have any personality. I mean, I'm a human, not Mario in his early games minus the manuals.

And Herbert wasn't exactly a saint himself. During times when my then co-workers and I got together outside work hours, they brought up some things Herbert was guilty of and even had evidence that they kept without knowing what to do with them without them being swept under the rug (recordings of harassment towards the males, females, and nonbinaries, touching pizza with his bare hands to check the temperature, snatching money from the safe, etc.). It was clear that we all wanted the same thing (and I didn't mind the consequences since I was looking into being a performer at a local amusement park and even had a job offer), but wasn't sure about the best plan of action to give him what he deserved.

Fortunately for me, I kept in contact with some fellow artistic folks from high school and remembering that gave me an idea. I told everyone gathered up and they agreed that it might be risky and over-the-top, but might help. Hey, if my parents expected me to be a simple person, they wouldn't have given me the middle name "Maximillian."

After several days of talking, practicing, and anticipation, it was time for us to execute our plan. We were all just working our regular shifts throughout the day and had everything set up in ways that were inconspicuous (am I using that word right?) to Herbert while he's, well, being him.

Eventually, it was the evening, so families were still around, but not too much that we'd accidentally push and shove. At 5:30, one of the surveillance people turned on the intercom that would normally be used to announce closing and started played "What I Meant To Say" by Daughtry. Everyone removed their work shirts and revealed our flash mob uniforms. I had that shirt on, too, but over the costume. As we started our dance routine, there were a lot of amused looks from the families and some parents even pulled out their phones, but Herbert just looked disgusted and angry that we stopped working too soon. Once we reached the part of the song that said "I'm not the only one who makes mistakes, just think of all the ones you made," there was a longer instrumental break where the curtains in the dining area came down all at once revealing pictures of his misdeeds, the surveillance person played audio recordings of Herbert being horrible, and a mixture of emotions came from the guests before we finished the song and dance number and walked out the front door costume and all.

From what I've heard, some of the guests uploaded and shared what they recorded that night and it caught the attention of enough people for Herbert to get investigated and then fired (maybe they did more to him, I'm not sure) and the place had to be shut down for the mistreatment, financial sabotage, and sanitation violations.

I work as a performer at the amusement park now and the boss is more open-minded and understanding and the pay is better. There have been times when I tell friends about the incident and even show videos as proof, and I get responses like "A flash mob? Isn't that a bit mu—never mind, you were involved. Of course it would be extra."