The Bride returned with a collection of groceries. I usually
don't let her shop because of her tendency to purchase impulse items. A quick
survey of the bags indicate purchases of some kind of spray nozzle for the
shower, a package of pre-threaded needles and a backup battery pack for a sump
pump that was guaranteed to run for three minutes.
But among the collection of useful groceries was rum mint
and limes. So I froze my ass off grilling steaks while she mashed potatoes, and
we had a nice dinner at home, followed with a round of mojitos. Of course,
being 8.378 months pregnant, she's drinking virgin mojitos, while I arrange to
have mine with a double ration of rum.
"You know," She said, "It's Fat
Tuesday."
"It is? Wow, that snuck up fast."
"Yeah, I know. I'm going to go over to St.
Whatchamallits to get my forehead smudged tomorrow. You want to come?'
"No, I think I'll be busy."
"Anyway, I was thinking … why don't you get a job for
Lent?"
I contemplated her idea overnight, and the next morning
called the agency that had placed me at my last data schlepping job. They
quickly told me to report to one of the gray office fortresses that guarded the
edge of our sub-urban area from the wilds of cornfields. After parking my car
in a treeless lot, I was greeted at the front door by a woman wearing large
swaths of polyester. She led me through a series of cubicle-laden offices to a
drab box near a windowless wall. The wall sported a motivational picture of a
bunch of zebras, with the motivating message "Be One of the Herd!" in
stylized script.
"Please have a seat." She handed me a packet of
mimeographed pages. "Here's the basic instructions for accessing the QAS
and SPLF systems. Your network login id is J41GQ5, which is also the password
for your voicemail, fax/copier access and the lock on the office supply closet.
To log into the timecard system, you just use your number minus the status
prefix, so your login id there is 41GQ5t, with the 't' always in lowercase
because you're a temporary employee. To access the Mainline system, use your
mainline id of mcr1chb, and make sure it's a separate password then your J41GQ5
login password. Set up your voicemail now, and there's a meeting in 20 minutes
about your project. Please review the special voicemail instructions on top of
your packet."
"There are special instructions for the
voicemail?" I asked.
"Yes. You have to include your network login. You're a
J series, which means a contractor with a life expectancy between three and six
months, though the 41 is reserved for projects that don’t have an anticipated
end date."
So I recorded my voicemail and went to the meeting where I
listened to two guys in ties tell me seven times that they wanted this
particular data carefully inspected, researched, reconfigured and processed
into hundreds of little tiny sets, so that the tiny data sets could then be
combined in such a way that it would appear as if they were playing with LEGOs.
When I returned from lunch, a workman was affixing a
nameplate to the cubicle wall. It said 'JL41GQ15'.
"Don't I get one with my name?" I asked the
workman.
"Yes, but we don't have the nameplate now. The guy who
does the names refused to do so this week because we changed suppliers, and the
new letter style was labeled 'Roman.' You see, he's Greek, and was offended by
that for some reason about stealing their gods, so he refused to use them.
He'll be fired on Thursday."
"Okay, but it's not right--there's an extra number in
there."
"No, that's supposed to be there. It's to help people
find your cubicle. By the way, did they tell you not to pin up anything on
cubicle walls that face west?" He then pointed north.
"Um, no. Why's that?"
"It interferes with cell phone reception."
I thanked him and delved into my paperwork. At 3 in the
afternoon, the speakers above stopped their string of disco favorites that was
surely some satellite feed from studio54 and announced that it was time for the
afternoon cheer. So I followed everyone else to the cafeteria, where we all saw
two men and a woman in suits.
They proceeded to explain that the division had just made
their quarterly quotas on sales. After each one took turns thanking everyone
for their hard work, the three then started clapping in unison. The crowd
immediately joined in. The three executives shouted in unison:
"Who are we?!"
"We're the best employees out there!" The packed
lunchroom responded.
"And why are we here?!" The executives shouted.
"Because we love Mother Hubble!" The crowed
shouted back.
"And why's that?!" Chanted the executives.
"Because she's the founder!" The crowd responded.
"She's the founder?!"
"The founder of flounder!" The crowd yelled.
"And are we busy as bees?! The executives asked.
"Bzzzzz!" Said the crowd.
"Mother Hubble! Mother Hubble! Mother Hubble!" The
executives and crowd chanted.
It's going to be a long six weeks. I wondered if
they would let me work from home. I went back to my cubicle, and began
to look over the datasets I was supposed to schlep. Datasets are pretty
tepid and dull, and soon I felt rather sleepy. I stood and stretched,
but it didn't really help. So I laid my head down on the keyboard and
closed my eyes for a few moments.