Orange
Male
He was a server in a black waistcoat, white shirt. He was brushing the ball off the table before setting plates down.
It was a ball from a kid’s ball pit, so a little bigger than a baseball, smaller than a softball.
The table was round, with a red gingham table cloth.
The orange ball on the red gingham table cloth were there immediately, once instructed to visualize a person pushing it, it only made sense that it was a server, since the table seemed restauranty.
Text from my direct report at 7am Saturday morning: “Please call me as soon as possible!!!”
I call immediately. Him: “I can’t talk right now, when is a good time to call you back?” Me:
“Just call me when you can, omg.”
Him: Calls me three hours later to take 20 minutes explaining why he needs an afternoon off two months from now.
Me: “This could have been a text, Pablo.”