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Anarchy in the Aisles

Published by Greg Clarkin on August 3, 2018

I left the house in a panic, hopped in the car and sped across town. No way was I going to be left behind. No way was I going to go hungry, left to buy groceries on the black market from some shady food dealer.

If the president said we needed a picture ID to buy groceries, then by God, I was going to see if the supermarkets were handing out special IDs. I wasn’t going to rely on my drivers license, or work ID to eat. It was early, I figured I could beat the crowd, and headed straight for Stop & Shop.

Stopping the Presses

Published by Greg Clarkin on July 27, 2018


Dear People in the Newsroom Team,

I hope all is well with you and your dependents families. This is just a quick note to let you know that fifty-nine of you are fired will be pursing new opportunities elsewhere. The four of you who are not fired staying with Crock, the world’s media leader, will be responsible for running the newsroom, including covering the news, writing the news, taking pictures of the news, and editing the news.


Automatic Reply: Out of Office

Published by Greg Clarkin on July 20, 2018

Hoffman came into the conference room and put his iPad down. He looked around at the team sitting at the shiny conference table, careful to make eye contact with each one of us. The mood went from the jovial, pointless pre-meeting small talk to tenseness. Something was going on. Something big.

I stole at glance at Beverly across from me. She looked worried. She had been saying for weeks the company was going to be bought. Maybe she was right. I immediately thought about finding a new job. My mind bounced from one thought to another. Was my LinkedIn profile updated? Why the heck hadn’t I stayed in touch with Hank after he left for that that wildly successful start-up? One page, or three on the resume?

Animal Kingdom

Published by Greg Clarkin on July 13, 2018


Wilson from marketing looked downright awful when I bumped into him coming out of the company gym. His right eye was puffy, black and blue, and swollen half-shut. His hair was a mess. The man looked like he was on the verge of collapse.

“I’m sure you’re not hearing this for the first time today,” I said, “but you look like crap. You take up mixed martial arts or something?”


The End, And The Beginning

Published by Greg Clarkin on July 6, 2018


Mahoney sat at the bar, staring at the screen of the laptop. On it was a story about the Kildare that Hartman had arranged through one of his media contacts.

Battling Barkeeps Open Watering Hole

They’ve battled each other for almost a decade, one a gruff big-time newspaper columnist, the other a PR whiz for one of the most controversial mayors New York had ever known. But now, Phil Mahoney and Jerry Mills have put old grudges aside to go into business together. 


Career Counseling

Published by Greg Clarkin on June 29, 2018

“In preparation for your first counseling session,” Mahoney’s wife said, “Cheryl and I did an evaluation of your careers. It took all of ninety-seconds. And what was our conclusion, Cheryl?”

“They’re over,” Mills’ wife said, looking at him.

“You’ve topped out, both of you,” Jen Mahoney said.

Mills glanced across the table and saw Mahoney sputtering to speak. “Topped out? I don’t think I’ve top–”

“Hey,” his wife yelled. “If I say you topped out, you topped out. Understand?”