"Absolutely not," Trevor quickly replied. "The rumors that I am just looking for a new set are totally unfounded. The set here is not going real good now, but the family has been good to me, and I just wouldn't want to go anywhere else."
Trevor moped about that night, staring at the rotisserie and manipulating Venetian blinds, listening to the audio from our TV room. We could sense how hard it was for him to be on his own after all those years. I was not too surprised the next afternoon at the office when I picked up the phone and heard my child's authoritative baritone voice. (One had to recognize Trevor's voice, because he never identified himself at the beginning of a conversation, waiting—in the style of news commentators—until the end before giving his name.)
"After thinking over my decision and reconsidering all the implications about quitting," the resonant voice said, "I have decided, at this time, that it would not be wise to quit. A 36-inch screen has been my dream. And the sequined dials are beyond belief. Therefore, I am asking to be reinstated, effective immediately. This is Trevor, home news, speaking direct from family central."
Although I was relieved that one more quitting had been reversed, I was sorry about the news that followed that Joe Namath had quit, too. The office was still buzzing over that later in the day when I was called in to see Mr. Tarpaulin, the boss. He informed me that I was spending too much time on coffee breaks and would have to cut it out, especially since it had also been noticed that I was ogling the new pool secretary, Miss Trimble.
I immediately agreed with Mr. Tarpaulin, but later, I rethought the matter and decided instead to call a press conference for the next morning around the water cooler. Crying unobtrusively, I filled in my position. "I have no personal bone to pick with Mr. Tarpaulin," I said. "He is certainly entitled to his opinion in this matter. I don't want to leave the Tarpaulin Grommet Company. Being involved with the production of grommets is something I have loved for many years. But, when it comes to a matter of principle, I am forced to quit."
Luckily, although it is sometimes whispered that you cannot compromise principle, we found a way out. What happened was, Mr. Tarpaulin got a good look at Miss Trimble, so he invited both of us to join him in his private office for all coffee breaks. And it was just great until Miss Trimble quit.