Welcome to the Circus | Chapter 5: Team Drinks
It had been a whirlwind of a week at MA&Co. A week filled with a chaotic blend of numbers, meetings, and the occasional panicked cry from Lily’s team whenever Excel decided to be less than cooperative. Yet, amidst the madness, I was starting to find my rhythm. The once-overwhelming office was slowly transforming into a familiar landscape, and I was even starting to recognize a few faces in the hallway.
But as I sat at my desk, staring at yet another convoluted report from Operations, a sense of weariness washed over me. It was Friday afternoon, the end of my first week, and my brain felt like it had been run through a blender.
Just then, Kevin’s towering figure appeared beside my desk, a welcome distraction from the mind-numbing spreadsheets. “Hey, Dennis,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “The IT crew is hitting up Saint & Rogue after work for a few drinks. You in?”
The prospect of a cold beer and some friendly conversation was incredibly tempting. “I’d love to,” I replied, a smile creeping onto my face. “What time are you guys meeting?”
“Around six,” Kevin said.
I nodded, excitement bubbling up inside me. “Sounds perfect. I’ll see you there.”
Kevin gave me a thumbs-up and disappeared back into the IT cave, leaving me with a newfound spring in my step. A night out with colleagues could be just what I needed to unwind and maybe even make some new friends.
Saint & Rogue was a cosy haven tucked away on Little Collins Street. Its warm, dimly lit interior was a welcome contrast to the sterile fluorescence of the office. The air buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses, a soundtrack to the end of the workday.
Kevin and his team were already gathered around a large wooden table, pints of beer in hand. As I approached, a chorus of greetings erupted, a mix of friendly smiles and curious glances. Kevin, ever the gracious host, rose to pull out a chair for me.
“Dennis, mate, glad you could make it!” he exclaimed, his voice a booming baritone that cut through the din of the pub. “Grab a seat, grab a beer. The first round’s on me.”
I smiled, a warmth spreading through me as I slid into the empty chair. “Thanks, Kevin. It’s good to be here.”
As I settled into my chair, Kevin gestured around the table with a flourish. “Dennis, meet the IT dream team,” he announced with a hint of pride in his voice. “The guys who keep this whole circus running, one line of code at a time.”
He pointed to a tall, lanky figure with a mop of unruly brown hair and a Star Wars t-shirt peeking out from under his hoodie. “This is Steve, our BI developer extraordinaire. He can wrangle data like nobody’s business, but don’t get him started on aliens — you’ll be here all night.”
Steve offered a shy smile and a wave, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Pleasure to meet you, Dennis,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft for someone who supposedly debated the existence of extraterrestrial life with the passion of a thousand suns.
Next, Kevin gestured to a burly man with a friendly smile and a St Kilda scarf draped around his neck. “This is Derek, our tech support guru. He can fix any computer problem you throw at him, but don’t you dare badmouth Frankston in his presence. He’s a bit sensitive about that.”
Derek chuckled good-naturedly, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To Frankston, the jewel of the Mornington Peninsula!” he declared, a glint of irony in his eyes.
A quiet figure with bulging biceps and a shaved head sat next to Derek, his attention focused on the intricate patterns he was etching into the table with a coaster. “That’s Ben, our database whiz,” Kevin explained. “He’s a man of few words, but his code speaks volumes. And when he does speak, it’s usually to argue with Steve about some scientific theory or another.”
Ben glanced up briefly, offering a curt nod of acknowledgment before returning to his coaster art.
Finally, Kevin gestured to a slender man with kind eyes and a gentle smile. “And this is Ramnath, our web development maestro. He can weave digital magic with his fingertips.”
Ramnath smiled shyly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Welcome to the team, Dennis,” he said, his voice a gentle melody. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
As the first round of beers arrived, the conversation flowed easily. I asked the guys about their weekend plans, eager to get a glimpse into their lives outside of the office.
Derek, predictably, launched into a passionate monologue about the upcoming footy match. “I’m heading to the MCG on Saturday arvo to watch the Saints take on those bloody Pies,” he declared, his voice thick with anticipation. “Gotta say, I’m not confident. Collingwood always finds a way to cheat their way to victory.”
Ramnath, his eyes twinkling with amusement, chimed in, “Well, I’m off to a friend’s birthday party. It’s a Bollywood theme, so expect lots of dancing and spicy food.”
Steve, ever the sci-fi enthusiast, piped up, “I’m having a Harry Potter marathon this weekend. All eight movies, back-to-back. Butterbeer and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans included.”
A deep chuckle erupted from Ben, his muscular frame shaking slightly. “You’re wasting your time with that kiddie stuff,” he scoffed. “Lord of the Rings is where it’s at. Real epic fantasy, not some watered-down wizarding school nonsense.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge igniting in them. “Oh, really?” he retorted. “You think a bunch of hobbits walking around for days on end is more exciting than a magical battle against the Dark Lord?”
And just like that, the debate was on.
“Lord of the Rings has depth and complexity,” Ben argued, his voice rising above the din. “It explores themes of power, corruption, and the enduring nature of good and evil.”
“But Harry Potter has heart and humour,” Steve countered, not backing down. “It’s about friendship, love, and the power of believing in yourself.”
And so it began. The great fantasy debate of Saint & Rogue. Steve and Ben, fueled by equal parts beer and conviction, went back and forth, each citing evidence from their respective universes to support their claims. The rest of us watched in amusement, occasionally chiming in with our own opinions or throwing fuel on the fire just to keep things interesting.
The debate raged on, fueled by beer and friendly rivalry. Just as Steve was passionately arguing for the complexity of Quidditch as a sport, my phone buzzed against the wooden table. A text from Sarah flashed on the screen: “Where are you?”
“At S&R with the IT crew,” I typed back, a smile tugging at my lips.
“Ok. We are on our way,” she replied almost instantly.
Kevin, noticing my momentary distraction, leaned in. “Everything alright?”
“Sarah’s on her way,” I announced to the table.
The conversation stuttered to a halt, a sudden silence descending upon the group. Steve and Ben’s debate about the merits of wizards versus elves seemed to evaporate into the smoky air.
Kevin, his brow furrowed, spoke up. “Is she coming alone?”
I shrugged, a puzzled look on my face. “Not sure. She just said ‘we’.”
The air crackled with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Sarah Thompson’s presence, it seemed, had the power to silence even the most fervent of fantasy debates.
About fifteen minutes later, a tap on my shoulder pulled me from the heated debate. Turning, I was greeted by a sight that could stop traffic — or at least, the flow of beer to the mouth. Sarah, Megan, Kelly, and Laura stood there, a quartet of contrasting styles and personalities.
Sarah, as always, was the epitome of effortless elegance. A cream silk blouse hugged her curves, tucked neatly into a pair of tailored black trousers. Her hair cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders, and her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.
Beside her, Megan radiated a more casual charm. A fitted denim jacket hugged her torso, accentuating her figure, while dark wash jeans clung to her legs. But it was her smile that stole the show, a radiant beam that made my heart skip a beat.
The effect on Steve and Ben was immediate and comical. Both men turned a deep shade of crimson, their eyes darting nervously between Megan and the table. They mumbled incoherent greetings, their voices barely audible above the pub’s din. I watched with amusement as they struggled to maintain eye contact, their usual confidence replaced by a flustered shyness.
Kelly, dressed in a vibrant hoodie with a cartoon pony on it, barely suppressed a giggle. She was sipping on a strawberry smoothie, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watched the awkward exchange. Laura, in her usual power suit, stood beside her, nodding along as Kelly animatedly explained how Twilight wasn’t just a cheesy romance but a profound exploration of the conflict between man and animal.
“Vampires aren’t real, Kelly,” Steve interjected, his voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment.
Ben, however, couldn’t resist jumping into the fray. “If evolution can create platypuses,” he argued, his voice unusually animated for someone so reserved, “why not vampires? Absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence. It’s the black swan theory all over again.”
Kelly, her eyes twinkling with amusement, nudged Steve playfully. “Ooh, someone’s blushing,” she teased, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Is it because of Megan’s dazzling smile or because you’re getting schooled on the black swan theory?”
Can I get you ladies any drinks?” I offered, a gesture of courtesy to the newcomers.
The ladies exchanged grateful smiles. “That would be lovely, Dennis,” Sarah replied, her eyes twinkling. “A pint of beer, please.”
Megan chimed in, “Gin and tonic for me, thanks.”
Laura opted for a classic, “Apple cider, if you don’t mind.”
Kelly, unsurprisingly, didn’t have a drink in mind. Instead, she perked up and said, “Ooh, do you mind if I tag along? I’m starving, and I want to see what they have on the menu.”
I chuckled. “Of course, Kelly. Come on, let’s see what culinary delights Saint & Rogue has to offer.”
With a wink at the others, we headed towards the bar, Kelly already chattering away about her ideal burger combinations and the merits of sweet potato fries versus regular ones. She bounced on her heels, her eyes scanning the menu with the intensity of a seasoned food critic. I couldn’t help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. It was refreshing to be around someone who found such joy in the simple things, like a pub menu with the potential for literary inspiration.
So, Kelly,” I began, leaning against the bar as we waited for our drinks, “any exciting weekend plans?”
Her eyes lit up, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Oh, you know, the usual,” she chirped, her voice a bubbly melody that cut through the pub’s chatter. “Brunching, binge-watching, and a healthy dose of bookish escapism.”
I chuckled. “Sounds like my kind of weekend.”
“Well, actually,” she continued, her excitement bubbling over, “I am catching up with a friend on Saturday for brunch at this amazing new café near Berwick. Everything is organic, and the sandwiches are supposed to be to die for.”
She paused, her eyes widening with a dreamy expression. “Avocado toast with microgreens, smoked salmon bagels with dill cream cheese, and gluten-free pancakes with maple syrup sourced from ancient Canadian trees.”
I raised an eyebrow, impressed by her detailed knowledge of the menu. “Sounds like a culinary adventure,” I remarked.
“Oh, it is!” she squealed, clapping her hands together. “But then, I’ve got to hit the books. I’ve been so busy preparing for my law exams that I’ve missed, like, a million episodes of my favourite shows.”
Wait… law exams? My mind screeched to a halt. “Law exams?” I repeated, my voice laced with surprise. “Kelly, I had no idea you were studying to be a lawyer!”
A blush crept onto her cheeks, a bashful smile replacing her usual exuberance. “Oh, yeah,” she mumbled, looking down at her strawberry smoothie. “It’s kind of a side hustle.”
For a fleeting moment, I pictured Kelly in a courtroom, passionately arguing a case while simultaneously juggling a sandwich and a smoothie. It was a bizarre yet strangely endearing image.
She quickly recovered her composure, her smile returning. “But enough about that,” she said, her voice regaining its usual cheerfulness. “I just got a bunch of new books delivered. One is about a prince who falls in love with his fiancée’s best friend. Can you believe the drama?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Kelly, you never cease to amaze me.”
Just then, the bartender placed our drinks on the bar. Kelly, her eyes sparkling with delight, added a side of chips to her order.
“Ready to head back?” I asked, grabbing the drinks.
“Absolutely!” she chirped, grabbing the chips with a mischievous grin. “Let’s go see if Steve and Ben have reached a truce in the great fantasy debate.”
As we made our way back to the table, I couldn’t help but marvel at the many layers of Kelly Mason. She was a bubbly receptionist, a foodie, a bookworm, and an aspiring lawyer — a whirlwind of contradictions wrapped in a bright pink sweater.
Balancing the drinks and a precariously stacked bowl of chips, I carefully navigated back to the table, Kelly chattering away about the latest royal scandal she’d devoured in one of her novels. As I set the drinks down, Sarah’s eyes locked onto mine, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
She plucked her pint from the tray with a dramatic flourish. “Dennis, darling,” she purred, her eyes twinkling with mischief, “tell me, did you spike this with anything to make me more… agreeable?” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Not that you need to, of course. You could have just asked.”
Laura’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide with astonishment. “Sarah!” she gasped, shooting her a disapproving look.
Megan, however, simply smiled — a radiant, genuine smile that lit up her entire face. It was a sight that had an immediate and profound effect on Steve and Ben. Their mouths gaped open, their eyes fixated on Megan like lovestruck teenagers. They seemed to have forgotten how to speak, let alone breathe. Derek, observing their reactions, let out a hearty chuckle.
“Welcome to the team, Dennis,” Kevin declared, raising his glass in a toast. The others followed suit, a chorus of cheers and applause filling the air.
As the evening progressed, conversations branched out in different directions. Megan, her curiosity piqued by Ramnath’s mention of a birthday party, asked, “Do you often have family gatherings on weekends, Ramnath?”
Ramnath nodded, a warm smile on his face. “Yes, we do,” he replied. “It’s an important part of our culture to spend time with loved ones. There’s always a birthday to celebrate, a festival to observe, or simply a reason to gather and share stories over good food.”
Megan’s eyes lit up with recognition. “I had the pleasure of visiting India back in 2010,” she shared. “I travelled around Rajasthan, and I was blown away by the warmth of the people, the vibrant colours, and the rich history.”
Ramnath’s smile widened. “Rajasthan is truly a magical place,” he agreed. “The forts, the palaces, the desert landscapes… it’s like stepping back in time.”
Their conversation flowed seamlessly, a shared appreciation for Indian culture bridging the gap between their different backgrounds.
Meanwhile, Steve and Ben had turned their attention to Kelly, their competitive spirits momentarily forgotten. “Kelly, you’ve got to expand your viewing horizons beyond teen dramas and period romances,” Steve urged, his voice filled with earnest conviction. “You need to watch some real science fiction. Star Wars, for starters. It’s a cultural phenomenon, a masterpiece of storytelling.”
Ben, not to be outdone, countered, “Star Trek is where it’s at. It’s thought-provoking, philosophical, and explores the vastness of space and the potential of humanity.”
Kelly, a mischievous glint in her eye, sipped her smoothie. “So, basically, you’re both telling me to watch nerdy space shows instead of hot guys pining for each other?”
Their debate continued, a lively exchange of opinions and recommendations, while Sarah, Kevin and Derek delved into a more serious discussion about the challenges facing MA&Co. They spoke in hushed tones, their expressions growing increasingly concerned as they exchanged stories of lost clients and missed opportunities.
Observing their exchange, I turned to Laura, who had been quietly observing the various conversations swirling around us. “So, Laura,” I inquired, “what are your hobbies outside of crunching numbers and wrangling spreadsheets?”
A warm smile spread across her face. “I’m an avid gardener,” she revealed, her eyes lighting up with passion. “It’s my way of escaping the chaos of the office and reconnecting with nature.”
She pulled out her phone, scrolling through a series of photos on Instagram. “Here, take a look,” she invited, holding the screen towards me.
I was greeted by a vibrant tapestry of colours and textures: rows of lush tomato plants heavy with fruit, delicate orchids blooming in a rainbow of hues, and a cascading waterfall that trickled into a tranquil pond.
“Wow,” I breathed, genuinely impressed. “Your garden is stunning.”
Laura beamed with pride. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s my little slice of paradise.”
As the evening deepened, and the pub’s ambiance grew even more convivial, the IT team began to disperse. Derek, always mindful of his commute back to Frankston, was the first to leave, bidding farewell with a hearty “Cheers, mates!” and a promise to regale us with tales of footy glory next week. Ramnath, ever the gentleman, offered to accompany Derek to the train station, their quiet conversation a stark contrast to the boisterous banter that had filled the evening.
Steve and Ben, their debate about fictional universes temporarily forgotten, soon followed suit, each disappearing into the Melbourne night with a wave and a smile. Kelly and Laura, giggling over a shared secret, were next to depart, their Uber whisking them away to the leafy suburbs of Caulfield.
As the table gradually emptied, only Kevin, Sarah, Megan, and I remained. The once-vibrant energy had mellowed into a quiet intimacy, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across our faces.
Kevin, swirling the remnants of his beer, leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze on Sarah. “So,” he began, his voice a thoughtful rumble, “what do you reckon about the future of MA&Co? Things seem a bit… shaky, don’t you think?”
Sarah’s eyes darkened, her usual playful demeanour momentarily replaced by a steely determination. “We need to move fast, Kev,” she said, her voice low and urgent. “If we don’t, the cuts will come sooner than we think.”
A ripple of unease passed over the table. Megan, her brow furrowed in concern, nodded in agreement. “I’ve been hearing the same whispers,” she confessed. “They’re already talking about merging teams, streamlining processes… It’s only a matter of time before they start cutting jobs.”
Sarah scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, and let’s not forget the parade of consultants they’ll bring in from the big four,” she added, rolling her eyes. “Every few years, they waltz in with their fancy suits and even fancier PowerPoint presentations, promising to revolutionise the company. But all they end up doing is shuffling people around and creating more confusion than clarity.”
Megan chimed in, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “The US leadership team is breathing down Rob’s neck, demanding results. They don’t understand the Australian market, but they think they know best.”
“Well,” Sarah retorted with a wry smile, “maybe if they didn’t fly business class to Australia twenty times a year, we could save a few million and avoid these ridiculous cuts.”
I observed the exchange between Sarah and Kevin, the air thick with a shared sense of unease. The shadow of uncertainty loomed over our small gathering, a stark contrast to the earlier revelry. It was clear that the looming threat of cuts and restructuring weighed heavily on their minds.
Sarah, however, remained undeterred. Her eyes, though shadowed with concern, sparkled with a defiant fire. The prospect of a challenge, of a fight for survival, seemed to invigorate her. It was as if she thrived on adversity, her determination fueled by the very obstacles that threatened to dismantle her world.
As I watched her, I couldn’t help but admire her resilience and unwavering spirit. She was a fighter, a woman who refused to back down in the face of adversity. And even though the road ahead looked uncertain, I knew one thing for sure: Sarah Thompson was not going to go down without a fight.
