Performance Improvement Plan - Chapter 5

“Teddy Bear! Oh, hey, didn’t mean to startle you, buddy!”

Ted had practically leapt out of his seat at the sudden voice at his office door.

“Oh, jeez, uh. Yeah, sorry about that, Bob. Just surprised me is all.”

Bob McCormac was another managing editor, in charge of the office on the opposite end of the floor. Average height, more heavy-set than Ted. He’d lived in the city long enough that the subtle Texas twang in his voice was definitely a put-on.

“Haven’t seen you around much, man! You doin’ alright?”

“Oh, yeah, um. I’m fine. Just uh, busy, y’know, and. Been having a run of bad sleep, you know how it can be sometimes.”

Ted cringed internally at how little the words he was speaking sounded like him. In truth, he didn’t know what was wrong, only that… only that something was. For nearly a month now, he’d felt uncomfortable in his own skin. There was almost this constant, invisible pressure anytime he was around other people, as though every pair of eyes looking at him weighed him down. He felt nervous and awkward, and…

And he could swear that everyone seemed just a little bit taller than they used to be.

“Damn man, sorry to hear that. Well, hey, I’m putin’ the call out to see who’s up for hitting the golf course this weekend. Maybe some fresh air will help clear your head, yeah?”

Ted tried not to visibly wince. He loved golfing, or, he used to anyway. Before all this started he would’ve leapt at the invitation; hell, he’d probably be making it himself, before Bob even had the idea. But for some reason the thought of golfing only amplified the discomfort and anxiety that was filling him up.

“Oh, yeah, no, I don’t know, Bob. I mean, you know normally I’d love to, but—”

“So do it! Shake yourself out of this rut. Sunshine, outdoors, couple a beers, paying me a hundred bucks when I kick your ass.” Bob chuckled. “It’ll be good for you. I mean, what else have you got goin’ on Saturday afternoon?”

Ted felt himself being cajoled into agreeing, despite his anxieties; the idea of refusing his friend felt even worse than the idea of going out with him. But then, with relief, he realized that he had an excuse.

“Saturday… oh, I actually can’t. I’ve got uh…” He was less relieved that he had to admit what his excuse actually was. “I’ve got… therapy.”

“You’re still doin’ that?” Bob asked incredulously. “I thought Jacob got your sentence down to just the one visit last month.”

“No, yeah, he did, but um… I don’t know, it’s… it’s actually… I think I kind of like it.”

Ted smiled apologetically at the confession, but then furrowed his brow. Did he like it? It occurred to him that he… couldn’t really remember what had happened in his session last Saturday. Or… or the Saturday previous, actually. But he knew that both times he’d left in a good mood. In fact… that was about the only time he’d been in a good mood recently. So, clearly it was helping with… whatever was going on with him.

Bob shrugged, shaking his head. “If you say so. Couldn’t pay me to go sit in a room and cry to a stranger.”

“It’s not like that.”

“No, sure, sorry. Don’t mean to be shitty about it. Maybe next time then, huh?”

“Yeah, definitely, I’ll be there next time.” Ted was already calculating how he could beg off the next golf game, too.

“Hey,” Bob said, finally stepping all the way through the office doorway, raising his eyebrows. “I finally got a look at that Beth girl. Not bad-looking, but she’s not really your usual type, is she?”

Ted’s eyes went wide and he clenched his teeth. “Will you keep your voice down? I’ve had enough trouble with her already.”

Bob held his hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry, I’m just sayin’.” Bob lowered his voice a little, but not enough to ease Ted’s concerns. “Kinda mousey, isn’t she?”

“I can’t do this right now. I’ve got work to do, and I’d like to not get written up again if you don’t mind. We can talk about it at that next golf game, alright?”

“Fine, fine. Jeez. Hope that shrink of yours helps you figure out… whatever’s wrong with you. You’re a lot less fun than usual.” Bob turned to leave, but paused.

“Oh, one other thing Ted. You might wanna get that suit tailored. The way it fits you is a little…” Bob made a disapproving face and waggled his hand.

“Okay, yeah, great, thanks Bob.” Ted rubbed at his eyelids and groaned softly as his friend left him be.

Although, actually, Bob might’ve had a point. Maybe he actually should talk to Jody about some kind of meds, since her hypnotherapy treatment seemed to wear off so shortly after their sessions.

The fact that Jody was a hypnotherapist seemed, somehow, connected to the fact that he couldn’t really remember anything that happened in those sessions, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out how the two things might be related.

***

Joyce loved anything and everything cute.

Her apartment was filled to the brim with what could only be described as an irresponsible number of stuffed animals, especially for a 30-year-old woman. Her TikTok algorithm had been laser-focused to serve her nothing but cute puppies, cats and laughing babies; she would love to have a cat of her own, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it home alone all day, and her apartment really wasn’t big enough for two pets.

Her cubicle used to look a lot like her house, desk covered in all sorts of adorable little toys, cartoon smiling faces adorning plush beanbags, funny cat pictures pinned to the walls.

“And then Ted got promoted, and for weeks he kept making all these shitty little comments. ‘Aren’t you a little old to play with dolls?’ ‘Kind of juvenile.’ ‘I think you might be distracting your coworkers.’ No one else ever said a word about it, of course, but he ended up making me take everything down. I didn’t even bother redecorating after that. If I can’t make my desk look like me, then why make it look like anything at all?”

“That’s awful,” Beth said from the neighboring manicure chair. Poor thing was so nervous about today, you’d think Joyce was dragging her to the dentist. So, Joyce was doing her best to just keep the conversation going to hopefully keep her mind off the attendant working on her nails.

“Ah, y’know, it’s pretty low on the list of Ted’s crimes. Have you heard what he did to Laura?”

“No.”

“Well, I shouldn’t say, but if you think you’ve had it bad, just… wow. I would’ve killed him.”

Beth’s laughter died quickly as she realized that Joyce wasn’t kidding.

Joyce had gotten in at a different publishing firm right out of college, editing children’s books. It was exactly what she wanted to be doing—so cute!—... but the pay wasn’t the best, and there wasn’t much to look forward to in terms of advancement. She was acquaintances with Laura, having met her a few times at industry conferences, and when she told Joyce about the opening on her team at Marabou, a team that she was in line to lead, she jumped at the chance.

And then… The Thing happened, between Laura and Ted, and everything just kind of fell to pieces.

She didn’t talk about The Thing. Some things you gossip about, and some things you shut the fuck up about, and The Thing was one of those. Realizing that her big mouth was getting dangerously close to talking about it, she abruptly changed the subject.

“Anyway, yeah, I’ve gotten off pretty light compared to you three. But really, more than the desk toys, I miss my pink hair.”

“Your what?”

Joyce grinned. “Oh yeah, it was like, neon pink, I did it the week I moved away to college and kept it that way for almost ten years… until Ted actually petitioned to get the dress code changed so that I wasn’t allowed to have it anymore. That one still bugs me.”

“What is his problem?”

“Who knows. I think he just needs to feel big. You know, in control. He knows he basically stole the manager job from Laura—ooh, uh, don’t let Laura know I told you that.” Technically, that was part of The Thing, but the real Thing was less the fact that he stole the promotion and more how he stole it. “But, anyway, the more he can throw his weight around, the more he feels like a boss, y’know? What he did with you with your mom was horrible, but if it hadn’t been that it would’ve been something else. He, like, needed to make you miserable so that you knew he had the power to make you miserable.”

“Ugh. So you’re saying that yelling at him and embarrassing him in front of everyone was the worst thing I could’ve done. Ohhhh, God...”

“Hey! No no no, none of that! Today is about relaxing, cuz you’re not gonna figure out what to do about this until you just…” Joyce lifted her free hand, the one that wasn’t being worked on, up to her face and clasped her fingers, moving it down her body to pantomime a breath. “Unclench.”

Beth frowned, but nodded, and took a few deep breaths. Joyce gave her a reassuring smile.

Joyce loved anything and everything cute, and frankly, Beth was adorable. Big blue babydoll eyes, eyes that always looked so sad or nervous that you just wanted to hug her and protect her. She honestly hadn’t paid her much mind until recently, but now she couldn’t look at her without thinking about a shivering little kitten, lost and alone at the animal shelter.

Plus, she was so slim and petite that Joyce had so much more fun shopping for her than she did shopping for herself. Joyce was… eh, she was fat. When she was younger she’d been more touchy about the label, insisting that no, she was voluptuous, curvaceous, full-figured. But whatever. She liked what she saw in the mirror, so if she was what people called “fat,” then there was nothing wrong with being fat. What she didn’t like was how hard it was to find cute clothes in her size, which simply wasn’t a problem for Beth. It was downright criminal that the girl had such a frumpy wardrobe when it was so easy to find nice outfits that fit her and didn’t come with a “plus-size tax.” 

Was Joyce maybe thinking of Beth a little less like a new friend and a little more like a doll she could dress up? Well, you know, first off, rude question. And secondly, even if, hypothetically, there was maybe a little bit of truth to that—after all, if today was about “relaxing,” then why drag Beth to the nail salon like she was a cat going to the vet?—but the upshot was that Beth was becoming more stylish and presenting herself in a way that complemented her natural beauty, so what was there to complain about?

“We should go shoe-shopping after this,” said Joyce.

“But… we just went shoe-shopping last week.”

“I know, but I want to try and talk you into buying those ones with the taller heels again.”

“Joyce, I can barely walk in the ones you already talked me into buying!”

“Oh, you’ll get used to it. You’re short! You need the boost!”

Beth pouted at the crack about her height, but Joyce just smiled; if she was affecting a pout like that, it meant that she wasn’t thinking about the things that actually made her upset or nervous.

***

July 13th, 2024 - Dr. Joanna Becker

DR. BECKER: Ted, are you with me?

MR. MURPHY: Uh. Yeah. Um… I don’t…

DR. BECKER: Good! Don’t worry, it’s perfectly normal for you to feel a little disoriented right now. You are currently in what I call a hypnotic state of minimal operability, or a “mid-hypnotic bubble,” to be a little less jargony about it. Strictly speaking, you are currently under hypnosis, but I’ve brought you up enough that we can have a conversation. At the same time, you are still receptive to my instructions. This is a tricky state to maintain, it’s very easy for you to come all the way up or slip back into full hypnosis, so I’m very glad to see that it seems like we’ve gotten the balance right!

MR. MURPHY: Um. Congratulations, I guess?

Noting that this transcript has been somewhat cleaned up; Mr. Murphy was far more coherent than when he is fully under, but speaking with him was still a little bit like speaking with someone who’s sleep-talking.

DR. BECKER: Thank you! Now, part of the reason I’ve induced this state was to simply test that I could, but I also wanted to be able to have a conversation with you about how your therapy is going. Oh, not yet! I will give you a chance to speak, but I need to give you a few important instructions first. No matter how this conversation goes, I want you to remain calm. Mellow. Peaceful. Can you do that for me, Ted?

MR. MURPHY: …Yes.

DR. BECKER: Good. I also want you to remember everything that’s happened in this office. You’ll forget it again once you go back under, or if you raise to a complete state of consciousness. Now. With all of that in mind: how have things been, Ted?

MR. MURPHY: I… I… Oh…

Mr. Murphy began to weep.

DR. BECKER: What’s wrong, Ted? Explain your feelings to me in words.

MR. MURPHY: Why are you doing this to me? Why? And… how are you making me shorter? It doesn’t make any sense. How? Why?

DR. BECKER: Well, Ted, I’m actually not the one in therapy right now, you are. So we’re going to focus on you. You will not ask me any more questions like that.

MR. MURPHY: But, I… I don’t understand.

DR. BECKER: I know you don’t. That’s alright. It’s alright not to understand. You don’t have to understand everything. That’s my job. And right now, I need your help so that I can understand what you’re thinking and feeling.

MR. MURPHY: I’m feeling… I’m feeling… upset? Confused? I don’t know what I did to deserve this.

DR. BECKER: Do you think you’re a kind person, Ted?

MR. MURPHY: I…

DR. BECKER: It’s okay. Be honest with me. Think about the way you speak to people, the way you treat people. Think about the HR incidents you’ve had with your employees. Are you a kind person? I’m not asking if you’re a nice person, but a kind one.

MR. MURPHY: I… I guess… I guess I’ve done some unkind things.

DR. BECKER: That’s very good, Ted. Very, very good. When we first spoke, I don’t think I could have gotten that out of you. I’m not even sure if you would have said it under hypnosis, unless I forced you to. Now, let me ask you this: do you want to be a kind person?

MR. MURPHY: I… you told me to…

DR. BECKER: I’m not asking what I told you, I’m asking what you want.

MR. MURPHY: But, you… you told me to want to.

DR. BECKER: Ted. Do you want to be a kinder person?

MR. MURPHY: …Yes.

DR. BECKER: Good. Very good! I am very proud of the progress you’re making, Ted.

MR. MURPHY: Um. Thank you.

Mr. Murphy grew visibly more bashful at the compliment, despite his obvious distress at understanding the hypnotic suggestions that have been implanted in his mind.

DR. BECKER: I’m very glad that you want to become kinder, because that’s what I want for you, too. Now, in the interest of that, I want to understand you a little better. I have here an HR report from Beth Granger, which says that you make a point of hiring all of the most attractive women that apply to your department. Is that true?

MR. MURPHY: Uh…

DR. BECKER: Ted. Is that true?

MR. MURPHY: Yes.

DR. BECKER: Okay. Thank you for being honest. The part that I’m confused about is… why you do this. There’s a few sexual harassment claims throughout your file, and it looks like you dated Laura Sheffield for a brief period about five years ago, but she wasn’t your employee at that time. But, most of these harassment claims are about inappropriate or sexist remarks, or treating female members of the team unfairly. From these reports at least, I’m not really seeing any indications that you’ve ever seriously flirted with or attempted to date any of these women, Laura aside. Is that right?

MR. MURPHY: Uh, yeah. I haven’t… You know, it wouldn’t be appropriate, to try and date an employee.

DR. BECKER: But if you believe that, and from what I can tell, you do, then why prioritize physical attractiveness in your hiring process?

MR. MURPHY: I don’t, really know.

DR. BECKER: Yes you do.

Mr. Murphy did not respond.

DR. BECKER: Ted, you have a limited ability to be dishonest with me in this state, but I can force you to tell me if I want to. You know that I can. Why not explain it voluntarily?

MR. MURPHY: I don’t know! I, I… Okay. I guess… I guess, thinking about it… I was pretty unpopular, when I was a kid. Especially with, um… with girls. 

DR. BECKER: It’s okay, Ted. This is good! This is what we’re here for.

[To be perfectly honest I did not expect to be doing REAL therapy with him today. Whoops!]

MR. MURPHY: You know, I just, um… I was an awkward kid, I got picked on a lot. Got um… rejected, a lot. I guess… I guess, uh. I guess I kind of resented the girls that did that.

DR. BECKER: So, do you resent all girls now?

MR. MURPHY: I mean… I don’t… I wouldn’t have said that…

DR. BECKER: But is it true?

MR. MURPHY: …I guess so. A little bit.

DR. BECKER: So, you hire pretty girls that remind you of the ones that used to reject you, so that you can feel a sense of power over them? Is that what you do?

MR. MURPHY: …Yes.

DR. BECKER: It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t be ashamed. The first step in solving a problem is acknowledging it. But, Ted, I don’t understand why you’re still holding onto this resentment. You’re tall, handsome, you’re in very good shape, and you have a successful career. Surely you have better luck with women now, right?

MR. MURPHY: Well… I mean. I’ve dated a few, but I don’t really… It doesn’t tend to work out.

DR. BECKER: You’re saying that you’re still not popular with girls, even now.

MR. MURPHY: Uh. I mean. I guess?

DR. BECKER: Well, Ted, that’s okay. I know that you haven’t been very happy with the treatment I’ve been giving you so far, but what if I helped you with this? What if I helped you to be more popular with girls? A kinder man, that girls like? Would you like that?

MR. MURPHY: But… But will you stop shrinking me?

DR. BECKER: No. You use your size as a cudgel, and as long as you can lean on it, it prevents you from being more kind. And you want to be more kind, right?

Mr. Murphy did not respond.

DR. BECKER: Ted. Don’t you want to be more kind?

MR. MURPHY: I guess so…

DR. BECKER: Good! Then it’s settled. This has been a very productive conversation, Ted. I’m sorry that you’re not going to remember it, but I want to assure you that it has been extremely valuable for me. I can personalize your hypnotic treatment much further after this. Go ahead and drop again for me, fall down, down, down, deep into the normal hypnotic state. There you go. Very good.

DR. BECKER: Now. Let’s see about making you more popular with girls.

***

Beth practically lunged for the corner of Joyce’s cubicle, the one closest to the entry to the office. She was desperate for something to brace herself against. Joyce poked her head out and smiled; Beth cringed at her.

“How’re they working out?”

“I nearly broke both my ankles getting off the train.”

Joyce snickered. “You’ll get used to them, don’t worry.”

Beth wasn’t so sure about that. Joyce had given her the hard sell over the weekend, practically forcing her to buy the monstrosities she was wearing on her feet. She was pretty sure 6-inch heels weren’t even valid with the company’s dress code, but Joyce assured her that she was short enough to get away with them.

She’d barely been on her feet for an hour today and the things were already killing her, and she was nearly fifteen minutes late; not exactly the kind of thing she needed to be doing if she wanted to get back on Mr. Murphy’s good side. She’d never been so relieved to sit down at her desk. Luckily, it looks like she managed to get here before he did.

“Where’s Francesca?”

“Bathroom.”

Beth nodded, taking a breath to mentally transition into work mode as she fired up her laptop.

“Good morning!” Beth reflexively jumped at the sound of Mr. Murphy’s voice. She hadn’t heard him be that loud in over a month

Stay calm, do not get angry. Relax.

“Good morning, um… sir—oh!” Beth was surprised as a large coffee was suddenly being pressed into her hands. Ted had a drink carrier with four of them, and quickly moved two cubicles over to give one to Joyce.

“Uh… thank you,” Beth said. Ted beamed at her.

“Sorry, Beth, I’m not totally sure what you like, hope a standard mocha’s okay!”

“Yeah, no, um… thanks, again.” Beth found herself… blushing? Something was off, but in an entirely different way than it had been before. A tiny voice was speaking in the back of her head, too small and soft for her to fully make it out. She furrowed her brow and concentrated, dragging the thought further forward in her mind, and blushing more deeply as it became more fully-formed:

Ted bossing her around felt ridiculous and wrong. But Ted doing something for her… that felt right. That felt correct.

She was shaken out of the strange notion by the sound of Francesca returning from the bathroom. Ted turned to greet her with another coffee, and then everyone froze, Francesca covering her mouth in shock.

She was taller than Ted, by at least a few inches.