I never expected that original goodwill to become a weakness other people thought they could exploit.
Near the end of the workday, Greg drifted over to Tara’s desk. The two of them began whispering.
“How did it go? What did the boss say?”
Tara gave a cold snort. “A fossil. Completely impossible to talk to. She even lectured me.”
Greg’s eyes shifted as he lowered his voice. “Told you. She’s just cheap. Tara, I support you. Young people care about feeling valued now. You’re doing the right thing.”
Tara lifted her brows smugly. “Don’t worry, Greg. Just watch me.”
I saw Tara take out her phone and film a few shots of her desk and the view outside the window. Then she turned the camera on herself, and in an instant, her face changed into a wounded, tearful expression.
Her lips moved as if she were saying something, though I could not hear the words.
My heart sank. I had a bad feeling.
That night, after I got home, my phone pushed me a trending local video.
The title read, “Gen Z Taking on a Cheap Boss: Refuses to Give Out Holiday Gift Boxes for Memorial Day Weekend?”
The cover image was Tara’s face, full of grievance.
I tapped into the video.
The first shot was my office door, with the caption, “Gathering the courage to fight for employee benefits.”
Then came a close-up of Tara at her desk, looking like she was about to cry. The caption read, “Cruelly rejected by the boss, who said I didn’t know how to be grateful.”
My patient explanation had been chopped up and altered with a voice filter until it sounded cold, arrogant, and condescending.
At the end, Tara faced the camera and choked out, “I don’t want some gift card. I just want a holiday gift basket for Memorial Day weekend so I can feel a little appreciated by the company. Is that really so much to ask?”
The comments had already exploded.
[There are still companies this cheap? They can’t even afford a gift basket?]
[Don’t cry, girl. Expose the company name. We’ll help you take her down!]
[This kind of rotten boss deserves a little Gen Z justice!]
I laughed from sheer anger.
A $300 gift card had become “I don’t want anything” in her mouth.
Early the next morning, I had barely arrived at the office when Tara walked into my office with Greg.
Greg looked troubled, playing peacemaker the moment he opened his mouth.
“Ms. Lee, about Tara, her intentions were good. No one meant any harm. Everyone just wants the company to be better and feel more united. Since everyone’s watching now, why don’t you just meet the employees halfway?”
Tara stood beside him with her arms crossed, looking utterly confident.
She waved her phone slightly. “Ms. Lee, this isn’t just my request anymore. This is what everyone wants.”
I said coldly, “Company policy will not be changed because someone throws an unreasonable tantrum.”
Tara let out a scoff.
“A gift card is an incentive. A holiday gift is appreciation. They’re two different things. Ms. Lee, if you can’t tell the difference, the internet can explain it to you.”
Her words were full of warning.
“The video only has a few hundred thousand views right now. If you don’t do something, I can’t promise what happens next.”
She was openly threatening me.
Just then, my assistant rushed in, looking panicked.
“Ms. Lee, this is bad. Tara’s video is trending! The topic ‘Company Refuses Memorial Day Gift Baskets’ is now number one on the local chart!”
I refreshed my phone.
Sure enough, it was.
What chilled me even more was what I saw when I checked the list of people who had liked the video.
Among the latest likes was a familiar profile picture.
