Chapter 1
The chaos started, as it so often does, with a message that dropped into the company-wide Slack channel.
Kevin Clark types: [Huge news! Your boy Kevin is getting hitched next Saturday!]
[Here's a quick rundown of how you can help: 1. The Gift: The registry is simple: Venmo me $500. Let's be real, anything less is just awkward for everyone. No pressure, but you know the rules.]
[2.The Cars: Wedding Convoy Crew! If you drive a luxury car (think $200,000), I need you in the office parking lot at 2:00 AM next Saturday. We're short about 10 cars. Gas is on you, obviously.]
[3.The Bridesmaids: Bridesmaid tryouts! To all the single ladies: my fiancée and I are casting four bridesmaids. DM me two recent, non-work pics. Must be at least 5'5" and, you know, photogenic. We want the wedding album to pop.]
[4.The Venue: We need to borrow a nice, newlywed-ish apartment for photos and prep. Our place is a shithole. Who's got one we can use for the weekend?]
[5. The Deadline: My Venmo is @KevinTiesTheKnot. Send the cash now so that I don't have to start calling people out.]
To make it worse, he then started tagging people directly in the thread. And of course, I was first. Kevin typed: [Leah Woods, you're cute. You get first priority for the bridesmaid pics.]
He then tagged Helen Davis as he demanded: [Helen! Congrats on the new condo. We'll need the keys from Friday to Sunday.]
And finally, he twisted the knife on the newest member of our team, typing: [Brian Miller! Your BMW 3-series barely makes the cut, but we'll take it. 2 AM. Don't be late.]
*****
The group chat went dead silent for a full thirty seconds before it absolutely erupted.
I stared at the screen, a laugh bubbling up that was pure disbelief. My fingers hammered the keys as I replied: [I suggest you see a neurologist. And while you're at it, find a specialist for that shamelessness of yours.]
Someone sent a string of question marks.
Another person typed: [Did his account get hacked or something?]
Then, a request from Kevin Clark popped up on my phone. The note was so brazenly entitled: [Leah Woods, send the cash and the photos. ASAP.]
I rolled my eyes, murmuring, "Is this guy living on another planet? $500 for a wedding gift? This from a guy who barely clears three grand a month, and he has the nerve to demand that?
"Borrow our apartment? Why not just ask to borrow the Federal Reserve while he's at it? And he wants single women to send in photos so he can pick bridesmaids? Is this a wedding or an episode of 'The Bachelor?'"
In the chat, Chris Wilson from Ops finally cracked.
Chris replied: [Kevin, aren't wedding gifts, you know, optional?]
Kevin replied in a heartbeat, complete with a grinning emoji: [Come on, Chris. We're colleagues. We see each other every day. You really want to be the guy who doesn't chip in for my wedding? Awkward.]
Someone from the tech department chimed in, typing: [Dude, there are like, five cars in the entire company that are worth over two hundred grand.]
Kevin argued: [So? Borrow one from a friend. Or your parents. If you can't handle a simple thing like this, don't even think about asking me for help with work tickets.]
I could literally feel my blood pressure skyrocket.
So, he got married, and the entire company was supposed to become his personal concierge service? This wasn't a wedding announcement. It was a goddamn ransom note.
Just as I was plotting my next verbal assault, a private message from Helen Davis popped up.
Helen: [Leah, take a deep breath. He's not worth it. We all have to work together, so don't make it a huge thing.]
I typed back instantly.
Leah: [Are you kidding me, Helen? He's already screwing us over, and now you want me to help him do it?]
I took a screenshot and went straight to the company's anonymous "Gripe Forum."
I slammed out a post title.
[Help! Coworker is demanding a $500 gift from everyone, plus use of our cars and apartments, and wants to audition us as bridesmaids. Should I just quit now?]
Then I attached the screenshot of the group chat and his friend request.
The post hadn't been up for three minutes before the comment section exploded.
[WTF, isn't that Kevin Clark from Tech? This is the guy who borrowed my Amazon Prime to buy condoms and never paid for the subscription!]
[$500? He was crying to me last month that he couldn't make rent. Guess he was just waiting to fleece us all.]
[He wants single girls to send photos to be 'chosen' as bridesmaids? What is this, an episode of 'The Bachelor'? So hilarious.]
[OP is totally Leah, right? He called you out by name. LOL. The nerve on this guy is legendary.]
I was scrolling through the comments, howling with laughter, when Kevin, who had clearly seen the post, went nuclear in the main company chat.
Kevin: [Who's the coward hiding behind an anonymous post? Got something to say? Say it to my face! Leah, I know it was you! You're just bitter I'm getting married and you're still on the shelf, aren't you?]
I scoffed and fired back, making sure to tag him.
Leah: [Kevin, your persecution complex is a clinical condition. First, the Gripe Forum is a company-sanctioned space for employees to vent. Me venting about you isn't a crime. Or are you going to sue the server?]
Leah: [Second, my relationship status has zero to do with you shaking down our colleagues for cash. You make three grand a month, and you're demanding a $500 gift? Is this a wedding or a stick-up?]
[Third, you're getting no photos, no gift, no car, and definitely no apartment from me. Want all that? Keep dreaming.]
The chat flooded with laughing emojis.
[LOL.]
[LMFAO.]
[LMFAO.]
Someone else added: [Leah's not wrong.]
Callan Jacobson, a guy from Tech who famously couldn't stand Kevin, added his two cents.
Callan: [Kevin, Leah's got a point. Your demands are insane.]
Kevin: [You don't get it! This is my wedding! It's a big deal! You're supposed to give me gifts!]
I jumped back in: [By that logic, if I give you a gift for your wedding, does that mean I can hit you up for $200,000 when my birthday rolls around next month? I mean, my birthday is a big deal, too.]
The chat absolutely lost it. People were chiming in with "seconded," and someone even joked: [Leah, for your birthday, do you need servers? I'll work for free. Just feed me.]
Kevin got roasted so hard that he went completely silent. He didn't type another word for the rest of the day.