Pam Halpert, Regional Manager
Season 3: Episode 22
Just the receptionist.
Nonessential. Unimportant. A pleasant face. Polite conversation. Tepid aura. Talented with a paintbrush, but unexciting. Just Pam.
Michael Scott convinces his cohorts to set ablaze a pile of coals and wildly requests for volunteers to scald themselves and walk to prove their potential to lead as Regional Manager (a task he himself avoids like the flu in February). He hushes Pam's excitement to conquer the challenge herself, asking for the "real candidates" to come forward. A drama with painfully loyal Schrute ensues, and the group moves away to entertain another Michael Scott motivational speech.
Pam stays.
No one cheers. Not one manages to even notice. She grins defiantly at the coals, aglow with rage, accepts the potential consequences, and canters across.
Victorious, she continues right on over to her apathetic, unsupportive, all but hateful coworkers.
She silences Scott, declares her victory, professes her unrelenting feelings to Jim despite his cowardly behavior, and takes herself for a walk to cool off. Still smiling.
Upon her return to work, Jim's girlfriend Karen, expecting an apology, tells Pam not to worry about what she said on the beach. "We all have said things without thinking, its okay!"
Pam, stifling a laugh, announces to Karen that she was absolutely thinking. She apologizes for Karen's discomfort, but denounces any regret for what she said. She meant it.
The cameramen isolate a baffled Karen to gather her reaction.
"Pam...wow. Well She's kind of a bitch!"
Out of the entire 9 season masterpiece that is The Office, that is, by far, my favorite episode.
This world is full of Pam Halperts. You may not have taken notice of them thus far. They are people pleasers. That "doesn't talk much, but she's nice" coworker. That cousin that only gets asked about "how work is going" because no one has bothered (or cared, more typically) to take an interest in or care to remember anything else about him.
A few episodes prior, Pam is stricken with overwhelming gratitude when Michael Scott rushes in , minutes to spare, to see Pam's artwork at a local show. For a week before, she'd kindly, as always, mentioned the show, a presentation of her accomplishments thus far, to all her coworkers and friends. All feigned interest. All but one, didn't bother. Even Pam's fiance bails after a few minutes, telling her her artwork is "the prettiest art ever".
It's funny how a compliment works, isn't it?
Just like those "hi! how are you?" conversations we preface with gold-plated positivity, the small talk compliments rank about as much authenticity as a "hey how are you? I'll have a venti blonde" (are you catching my Starbucks order, yet?) to the Starbucks Barista every morning. She's never going to say she's not great. She'll be Pam. Pleasant, smiling, and she'll ask me if there's anything else she can do. Things change, however, when I ask her about her daughter. "Theresa! How is your little lady? Did she end up liking soccer?" Her eyes brighten and the smile relaxes. Real. That's how you get to know Pam.
The most intriguing, and easily most overlooked, Pam revolution, however, is that once she is left alone, no one in the stands, everyone only concerned with their blonde roast and "how are you"s, is that in her isolation, Pam gathers enough fire from the coals that she becomes bold enough to walk through it. She becomes her own cheerleader. A phoenix from the ashes.
No validation. No embarrasment. Blatant, genuine, scathing honesty.
She's dangerous.
And she never goes back.
Luke 9:48
NOTE: beautiful mug and logo, a gift from one of my favorite ladies from my favorite Starbucks location. I claim no rights or associaton to this logo (but I am committed and addicted to their coffee ;))
Just the receptionist.
Nonessential. Unimportant. A pleasant face. Polite conversation. Tepid aura. Talented with a paintbrush, but unexciting. Just Pam.
Michael Scott convinces his cohorts to set ablaze a pile of coals and wildly requests for volunteers to scald themselves and walk to prove their potential to lead as Regional Manager (a task he himself avoids like the flu in February). He hushes Pam's excitement to conquer the challenge herself, asking for the "real candidates" to come forward. A drama with painfully loyal Schrute ensues, and the group moves away to entertain another Michael Scott motivational speech.
Pam stays.
No one cheers. Not one manages to even notice. She grins defiantly at the coals, aglow with rage, accepts the potential consequences, and canters across.
Victorious, she continues right on over to her apathetic, unsupportive, all but hateful coworkers.
She silences Scott, declares her victory, professes her unrelenting feelings to Jim despite his cowardly behavior, and takes herself for a walk to cool off. Still smiling.
Upon her return to work, Jim's girlfriend Karen, expecting an apology, tells Pam not to worry about what she said on the beach. "We all have said things without thinking, its okay!"
Pam, stifling a laugh, announces to Karen that she was absolutely thinking. She apologizes for Karen's discomfort, but denounces any regret for what she said. She meant it.
The cameramen isolate a baffled Karen to gather her reaction.
"Pam...wow. Well She's kind of a bitch!"
Out of the entire 9 season masterpiece that is The Office, that is, by far, my favorite episode.
This world is full of Pam Halperts. You may not have taken notice of them thus far. They are people pleasers. That "doesn't talk much, but she's nice" coworker. That cousin that only gets asked about "how work is going" because no one has bothered (or cared, more typically) to take an interest in or care to remember anything else about him.
A few episodes prior, Pam is stricken with overwhelming gratitude when Michael Scott rushes in , minutes to spare, to see Pam's artwork at a local show. For a week before, she'd kindly, as always, mentioned the show, a presentation of her accomplishments thus far, to all her coworkers and friends. All feigned interest. All but one, didn't bother. Even Pam's fiance bails after a few minutes, telling her her artwork is "the prettiest art ever".
It's funny how a compliment works, isn't it?
Just like those "hi! how are you?" conversations we preface with gold-plated positivity, the small talk compliments rank about as much authenticity as a "hey how are you? I'll have a venti blonde" (are you catching my Starbucks order, yet?) to the Starbucks Barista every morning. She's never going to say she's not great. She'll be Pam. Pleasant, smiling, and she'll ask me if there's anything else she can do. Things change, however, when I ask her about her daughter. "Theresa! How is your little lady? Did she end up liking soccer?" Her eyes brighten and the smile relaxes. Real. That's how you get to know Pam.
The most intriguing, and easily most overlooked, Pam revolution, however, is that once she is left alone, no one in the stands, everyone only concerned with their blonde roast and "how are you"s, is that in her isolation, Pam gathers enough fire from the coals that she becomes bold enough to walk through it. She becomes her own cheerleader. A phoenix from the ashes.
No validation. No embarrasment. Blatant, genuine, scathing honesty.
She's dangerous.
And she never goes back.
Luke 9:48
NOTE: beautiful mug and logo, a gift from one of my favorite ladies from my favorite Starbucks location. I claim no rights or associaton to this logo (but I am committed and addicted to their coffee ;))
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