Marissa Jacobs sat at her desk typing up another letter for Ron Kincaid. She liked her job at New York Chronicles until she got promoted from office intern to Kincaid’s assistant. She thought the sound of not being ‘the coffee girl’ would be more fulfilling and she would get a chance to publish something for the newspaper. As it turns out, Marissa found out that her future job turned into a nightmare. Ron Kincaid was notoriously known for being, a cruel, sexist, and (on occasion) racist all-around asshole, and the fact it was the holiday season didn't soften his attitude. In fact, the holidays made his already abrasive personality worse. That, plus the recent news of his divorce from his wife put Ron Kincaid in a very unhappy mood.

Marissa was at her desk looking at the small Christmas tree that sat on a table next to a Hanukkah menorah in the corner of the office. It may have been juvenile of her, but this was Marissa's favorite time of year. It was the only thing that kept her smiling since she had a tyrant for a boss. After, finishing the letter and printing it out, Marissa made her way to Ron’s office. She knocked on the door-frame as she saw that he was on the phone. As she stood, she looked out the window of his cushy office noticing the snow falling outside behind him. Oh, what she would give to be curled up on her big comfy couch wrapped in a blanket instead of at work. She was broken from her revelry by the sharp voice of Ron Kincaid.

“Yeah, well you tell that little cunt that she can go fuck herself!” Ron slammed the phone on the hook. “What do you want?!”

“Um…here is the letter you wanted.”

“Uh…I’m waiting…by this century….” he glanced at his expensive watch.

“Oh, right.” Marissa had to find all her strength to move. She was frozen in fear. Whoever was on the phone pissed him off and she knew if she didn’t do what he said, it would be her job.

“Why are you still in my office?!” Ron didn’t look up from the letter.

“Sir, it’s just I haven’t had my fifteen-minute break yet….”

“Fine…take the fucking break. Why do people needs breaks. I swear you sound like my bitch of a wife…well, soon-to-be ex-wife.”

“Well, I’m just...gonna go.”

“Yeah, whatever. Oh, when you're finished, come back and correct the typos you made. I'm not even two sentences in and I already see mistakes.” Marissa nodded and saw Ron crumple the paper and throw it in the trash. She knew there was no typos or mistakes. She looked over that document three times before printing it out and she's spot-on about her typos.

Marissa hurried out the door and made her way to her desk. She grabbed her purse and headed to the coffee room. She needed something to calm herself from her scolding from Ron. She saw that someone in the office bought tea that everyone could use. She grabbed a mug, filled it water and stuck the cup into the microwave. She saw someone coming into the room.

“Hi, Oliver.” she sighed knowing that it was her friend and mentor Oliver West. He's the Managing Editor that has his own assistant. At times, Marissa wished she was his assistant instead of Ron Kincaid's. He was nice but assertive without being a dictator. Besides, since he's not Editor-in-Chief, he gets some abuse from Ron as well.

“You sound upset. What happened?”

“Ron Kincaid. Ugh! Why does he hate me?! It’s bad enough I do his work and he gets all the credit, but does he have to berate me too?! I hand him the letter he wants me to type up for him, yet he's pissed I'm even in his office. But, if I'm not in his office, he basically accuses me of slacking off on the job. I don't get it. Every little thing sets him off. I mean, he was like that before, but now it's everyday.”

“Kincaid’s an asshole…he’s even more of an asshole ever since his wife left him. I don’t see how you put up with it.”

“I don’t know why, either. He used his favorite word….”

“The all too familiar, not to mention vulgar, 'Cunt'…of course he would. Probably talking about his wife. I hear that the reason his wife left him was because he had an affair…but that could be just a rumor.”

“I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to sleep with someone so horrible. The man is insufferable. It's like he gets off on making people miserable.”

“I know, right? Just don't let it get you down.”

“I know, I know. It's just hard trying to be professional.”

“Trust me, I understand. I'm in an editor and he treats me like crap...the thing is, I don't necessarily put up with it.”

“And I do because I'm just the lowly assistant.” she slumped her shoulders. She didn't want to get depressed, so she opted for a more lighthearted conversation. “So, how are you and Christie? What are you two planning for the holidays?”

“We're great. Though, I am having a tough time trying to find a holiday gift for her. I mean, what do you give an art gallery curator? I thought about getting something artsy, but I know she didn't want to be reminded of work. You can't imagine how picky she was when we decorated our apartment when we first moved in together.”

“Hmm...that does sound like a toughie. What does she like?”

“Well, I know not to get her clothes. I made that one mistake with an ex, and she was pissed...got her a sweater and it was two sizes too small.” 

“Ouch....”

“I know. Well, to answer your question, Christie loves jazz. Her favorite artist is Chet Baker, but I doubt she wants a CD...she doesn't really watch movies except weird, artsy ones or documentaries...no offense, but it's damn hard trying to shop for women.”

“None taken. I'm pretty sure you have time to find something, but if all else fails, get a gift card. Damn, I have to get back before he unleashes a fiery fury into me.” she rolled her eyes as she set the mug in the sink.

“Hey, don't let Ron get under your skin. I know he's an asshole, but you have to try to keep it together. I know it'll be hard, but I believe you can handle it.” 

“I'll try. Why is it that I'm not your assistant?” Marissa shuffled back to her desk.

Once she was at her desk she saw Ron coming towards her area. She gulped and embraced whatever strenuous workload he was going to dump onto her. He moved past her and went to the receptionists desk in which a young man was told he had to be in Ron’s office. A few minutes later, the same man came out of the office damn near in tears. Ron decided to take out all his anger and frustration on a mere receptionist, she thought. She decided to stay away from him because she has seen this side of him many times.

After work, she rode the subway to her small apartment in the Bronx. Stepping off the subway car, Marissa felt the stinging cold again as she wrapped her coat tighter around her body. She tried her best to ignore the homeless drunk on the corner dressed as Santa trying to swindle people out of money. All she wanted was to her apartment and warm up with some tea or hot chocolate. Marissa sighed in relief as she finally made it to her apartment building thankful of getting out of the bitter cold,

She stepped inside and went straight for the mail area. Checking her mail, she saw a new Christmas card from one of her friends and her family. As soon as she went through her door, Marissa slipped off her shoes and went into her bedroom to change into pajamas. She walked over near the window to warm her hands over the radiator. Looking down, she could see people putting up holiday decorations if they haven't done it already and children having an after school snowball fight which put a huge smile on her face. Yep, Marissa was a kid at heart despite working for a giant prick. Not even the reality of working for Kincaid could make her forget how much she loved being happy this time of year.