This is a true story. Descriptions of companies, clients, schools, projects, and designers may be altered and anonymized to protect the innocent.
Editor: Where we last left off, “Family Man” was in the middle of an important salary negosh. But with a wife and two kids to support, money is just the first hurdle he needs to clear. Can he get the clan to the other side of the country?
“I can’t do it for less than eighty,” I said. That was exactly double my salary back home. Less than what my wife and I made together, but the cost of living out here was slightly lower.
“Eighty grand,” Batcopter Boss said.
“That’s right,” I said.
He leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head.
“I can’t do eighty,” he said, grinning. “I’ll give you eighty-five.”
I thought I heard him wrong. I didn’t. He was offering me $85,000 a year.
Before I knew it we were both standing and shaking hands across his desk. But I told him I couldn’t finalize yet, that I still had to sort some things out. See, if I was a single guy, it would have been a done deal right then and there; but my name in this story is Family Man, and there’s a reason for that. The money Liberace Batcopters was offering was great, but now I just had to make sure I could provide a good home for my family.
When I told Batcopter Boss what I needed to do next, he said he’d ordinarily accompany me, but that he had to finish up some things. So he opened a desk drawer, pulled out a set of keys, and tossed them to me. At first I thought they were the keys to his Audi, but I was wrong; he led me around the side of the building to where there was a freestanding garage. He punched a code into a keypad, the door slid open, and inside was a shiny, cherry-red, jacked up Ford F-150 with a Batcopter logo on the side. “Company car,” he explained. “Try not to scratch it.”
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