Michael Scott had made a bold move. When Charles Miner arrived in the office, it has been too much for him. “I quit,” Michael had declared. He didn’t need them — he was going to start his own paper company.

You’d made your own bold move. You had joined him. For a change of scenery, you decided.

You both agreed that you couldn’t start a company with two people, so you asked Michael if he had anyone in mind.

“Ryan,” he had told you.

You shut him down. You did not want to see him again. And Michael let the matter drop. Until, while on the search for employees, he pulled up to a bowling alley. He’s just be a minute, he said.

After a while, you followed him inside. “Michael! What’s going on?”

And there he was. His hair newly bleached blond, cleaning bowling shoes. And certainly not in Thailand.