Transfer Papers

We worked together last Thursday. He was at my store because we were short a manager. He covered the basics: wife. 2 kids. The usual. Same age as mine.


He told me he was finishing his last week at his current store and then he was being transferred to another store still in the relative area of the 295 corridor: that long run-on two-lane metropolitan-hiding stretch of forested highway spanning the distance between Baltimore City and Washington DC.


A good bit of deliberation goes into transferring a manager from one store to another. The powers that be consult a number of players: the regional manager; the district manager; the general manager; the rest of the managing crew; and, in some cases associates before a final decision is made. It was Rob's time.


295 has its advantages over 495 and 95 – its larger four-lane counterparts. 295 is quiet and free of tractor trailers. Some drivers see 295 as a highway to heaven or a two-lane ticket to paradise. But every highway has its own discord, its own hustle and bustle, which sometimes lead to crumble and tumble.


Rob was on his way home Tuesday night when his airbag sprung out at him like a possessed file cabinet door. Papers flew everywhere.