It was quitting time on a Friday, but Cole Hutcheson didn’t care.

Nobody cared too much right then, in fact. Because we were all about to get laid off.

Or, too many of us were, anyway.

That’s when Cole showed up at my cubby, perched on the edge of my desk, and asked if I wanted to spend a few weeks in Key West filming a video about a US Coast Guard rescue swimmer.

My answer, of course, was, “Sure.”

Did I know what a rescue swimmer was? Could I locate Key West on a map? Could I tell you anything about the US Coast Guard—other than it had something to do with guarding the coast? Did I even like the ocean?

All no.

But it didn’t matter.

That’s how it was in this business: the cutthroat world of mid-level video production.

That’s also how it was when the company director—a tall lady with tall shoes who we all just called “Sullivan”—was planning to lay off a third of the department over the next month. Most likely the newest employees. Which included me.

She sent an email about it, of all things. An email so full of jargon about rightsizing and rebalancing and adjusting to levels of demand that I had no real idea what it said.

I skimmed it, honestly. And went back to work. For a few minutes.

Until the stampede of office-wide panic.

I would have said yes to the Coast Guard project, anyway. But I guess Sullivan’s email made me say yes faster.

As soon as I agreed, Cole—my work superior—gave me all the details. Rapid-fire, in our now mostly vacated office. It was fine. He was doing me a favor. This was the kind of assignment that could demonstrate my value.

As of today, I needed to get on that.