How did Biff put it? “To suffer fifty weeks of the year for sake of a two-week vacation, when all you really desire is to be outdoors, with your shirt off.”
As I stare into this double-monitor, surrounded by sales awards, shipping maps of the United States, and my tiny Millenium Falcon, I suddenly hear Willy and Biff at the same time.
My Inner Willy is wrapped up in a career of sales. My financial history reflects that, with more ups and downs than Space Mountain. “Be liked, and you will never want.” Inner Willy keeps telling me. It is this voice that keeps me coming back to this desk and picking up that phone. And warehouse workers move boxes from shelves to trucks. And I get paid again.
But Biff keeps spoiling the party. “Get outside. Take your shirt off.” he whispers. The cubicle walls are as prison walls, suffocating my creativity and my verve. I just want to get out there andtake my shirt off. Biff wants me to go.
But there’s Willy. And there’s Ben. And there’s responsibility.
And there’s the phone.