I started at the
Ajax Corporation with mixed feelings. I wasn't enthusiastic about working
in a corporate environment, but it was good money, and it was just a
six month contract. I hadn't worked regularly in nearly a year, so I
was gladly willing to give up six months for an infusion of cash. At the front entrance,
I got a door pass from security, went inside, and found my cubicle.
It was a small box in the midst of thousands of others just like it,
with the same desk, shelf unit, and fabric-covered dividers. Everything
fit a soft lavender and peach color scheme. And there I met Josephine,
my supervisor, who gave me a stack of documents to read. "Here's some
background material, Shorty," she said. "Oh, I'm sorry. May
I call you 'Shorty?'" "Yeah, sure,"
I said. "Everybody calls me Shorty. Been doing it most of my life."
My real name is
Lloyd, and as you may have gathered, I'm short. Only my mother and a
few ex-girlfriends have ever called me by my given name. But that's
not the only unappealing aspect of my appearance. If only it were. I'm
also rather hairy. These are my burdens, friends, and although I can
imagine worse ones, that is little consolation.
I assumed that
Josephine would stop by again with more instructions, but she did not.
I called her a few times each day, but she was never in. I left messages
on her voice mail, each slightly more stressed than the previous, which
she did not return. Several days went
by. I arrived in the morning with everyone else and left in the evening
with everyone else, having accomplished nothing. I was getting more
nervous each day. I was drinking so much coffee, my entire body was
vibrating. So I set off through the long, straight corridors of the
Ajax Building searching for Josephine. Many hours later,
I found Josephine quite by accident in an empty conference room. She
had a cell phone to her ear. She looked up smiling vacuously and said,
"Be right with you." Into the cell phone
she said, "I do too love you, baby. How can you ask such a thing?
... Of course, I can prove it, silly man ... I'll show you later."
She giggled and made several loud kissing noises into the phone before
shutting it off. "Hello, Shorty,"
she said. "I've been
trying to get in touch with you for days, Josephine, but you're never
in your office." "I can't get
anything done in my office, so I stay away from it," she said.
"Plus, you
don't return phone calls." She chuckled. "Can't.
Too busy." "But how can
anyone contact you?" "Look, there
are things about Ajax that just aren't meant for contractors to understand.
Now what is it you want?" "I need help
getting started on the project," I said. "The first
thing you need is a project number," she said. "Every project
must have a number, or else we have nothing to charge your hours against."
"What about
my time so far?" "That goes
against the project number if you get one." "If I get
one? You hire someone for a project, but you may or may not have the
means to charge for the hours?" "That's right,"
she said. "Why not obtain
the project number before you hire a contractor?" "Shorty, we
don't need contractors telling us how to run our business. We do things
a little different at Ajax, and this is something you must accept if
you're to succeed here." "Fine. Let's
do it your way. How do I get a project number?" "Go to HR.
That's short for Human Resources. The office is down the hall on the
left." "Human Resources?"
I said. "What are Human Resources?" "Shorty, you
have an irritating habit of concerning yourself with things that are
none of your business." "Forget I
asked." She continued.
"Pick up a project number request form at HR. Fill it out, put
it in the Project Number Request Bin, also at HR, and hope for the best.
In the meantime, find something to do." "Like what?"
I said. "Look, you're
getting paid per hour, so don't sweat it," she said. "Apply
for a number, and make sure you're ready to go when the number arrives."
"What exactly
do I do with a project number if I get one?" I said. "First, store
the number in a very safe place," she said. "Then print the
number on every document used during the course of the project."
"Why's that?"
"Because it's
the way we do things," she said. "Please, just leave it at
that." She brought the
cell phone to her ear and nodded toward the door. "If you don't
mind," she said, "I'd like to be alone now."
"What does
luck have to do with it?" I said. "You'll find
out soon enough," she said. "By the way, do you mind if I
call you 'Shorty'?" "Not really,"
I said. "What's your name?" "Claire,"
she said. "Look, Claire,
what gives with these project numbers?" "I'm sorry,
but I can't say," she said. "That's between you and your supervisor."
"But my supervisor
has been somewhat vague on the subject." "I'm not authorized
to divulge that information. They're pretty strict about that around
here, especially with contractors. Is there anything else I can help
you with?" "Yes, there
is," I said. "What exactly are human resources?" "I'm sorry,
but I'm not a liberty to say. Have a nice day, Shorty." "It's Lloyd,"
I said. "Please, Claire, call me Lloyd."
Now the Ajax Building
is a veritable maze of wings, mezzanines, and odd-shaped additions.
To make matters worse, each level has a different floor plan. Soon I
was completely lost, so I stopped at a security desk and asked for directions.
The guard looked at me suspiciously, held out his hand, and said, "Door
pass." The tag on his uniform read, "Off. William Poot."
He was broad shouldered and hard-looking, with a razor sharp crew cut.
I gave him my pass.
He ran it through the scanner. When my record came up on his computer
screen, he muttered derisively, "Another contractor." "That's right."
"We've had
a lot of problems with contractors around here," he said. "Really, what
kind of problems?" "I'm not at
liberty to divulge confidential information to non-employees,"
he said. "We have strict nondisclosure guidelines at Ajax, which
we enforce to the letter. Let's just say we've had to physically remove
several contractors from the premises for conduct detrimental to the
company. So just watch your step, Shorty, because we'll be watching
you." "That's fine.
I have nothing to hide." "Right,"
he said. "What is that
supposed to mean, Officer Poot?" "What I mean
is no personal phone calls or surfing the Internet during business hours.
And don't expect health insurance, vacation days, or any other benefits.
And don't try claiming any bogus hours on your invoices. Everybody knows
that contractors pad their invoices." "Security
reviews contractor invoices? Are you sure that's necessary?" "Sure I'm
sure. We wouldn't do it if we didn't think it was necessary, now would
we? And another thing--we don't need contractors telling us how to run
security. As far as I'm concerned, there are too many contractors around
here. I'd fire the lot of them. Nobody in the building except legitimate
employees, and only those who've been through extensive background checks.
Then we'd have a secure environment." "But it was
Ajax's choice to bring in so many contractors. The company laid off
20% of the full-time workforce to save money on benefits." "You think
you're real smart, don't you, Shorty? Typical contractor attitude. I'm
adding a note to your record." I looked over his
shoulder as he typed, "Suspicious behavior. Anti-social attitude.
Monitor closely." "That's absurd,"
I said. "You're the one who's anti-social." "Disrespectful
of authority," he typed. "I'd shut up if I were you, Shorty.
You're only making it worse." "And who said
you could call me 'Shorty'?" I said as I turned and left. He seemed to find
this comment extremely amusing, that is if his loud, crude laughter
was any indication.
In other words,
I bullshitted. I left the application
in the Project Number Request Bin at HR. The clerk, Claire, smiled and
said, "Having fun yet, Shorty?" "As always,"
I replied. "How are Ajax's human resources today?" "Just fine,
as always," she said. She stood at least
6' tall. Her figure had virtually no curves. Her hair was long and straight,
her skin pale and relatively hairless. She may not have met the standard
definition of beauty, but as far as I was concerned, she had it all.
Back in my cubicle,
I set about waiting for a response to the application. This amounted
to staring at the lavender and peach colored wall dividers, making long
distance personal phone calls, and surfing the Internet--anything to
fight the boredom. I was certain I would be caught by Ajax security
for these indiscretions, but I just didn't care. I was hopeful that
a project number would turn up within a few days, but that didn't happen,
so I went searching for Josephine again. This time I found her in a
remote corner of the company library. Again, she was on her cellular
phone. "There, there,
sweetie. Don't let that big, nasty board of directors push you around
... They just don't understand how powerful you are ... Yes, I think
you'd be entirely justified in firing them." When she saw me,
she said, "Just a second, darling," and put her hand over
the mouthpiece. "What is it, Shorty? I'm kind of busy here."
I explained the
situation and my growing sense of desperation. "Well, just
rewrite the application and re-submit it. You've got the time, right?"
"I've got
nothing but time, Josephine." "Patience,
Shorty. Patience. We take our time and do things right here at Ajax."
"By the way,"
I said, "who reviews these applications?" "There's a
man in the basement who handles project numbers. Of course, he may be
swamped with applications right now." "Maybe I'll
take a walk down to the basement and ask him about the application.
You know, to expedite things." She spoke into
the cellular phone again. "Honey, I'll have to call you back ...
Right back, I promise ... Love you." She made those kissing noises
into the phone again and shut it off. "Shorty, I'm
sorry, but contractors are not allowed in the basement. Mr. Shropshire
has forbidden it." "Shropshire?"
"He's one
of the most powerful executives at Ajax, and he does not want to be
disturbed. Just be patient and stay busy." "How can I
stay busy?" I said. "You haven't given me anything to do."
Josephine smiled
that Ajax smile. I smiled too, although it might have been more of a
grimace. "We're not
interested in hand-holding here at Ajax," she said. "We need
self-starters, people who take the ball and run with it. This does not
bode well, Shorty. This does not bode well at all."
Section 1: Welcome to the Ajax Corporation, Shorty
On
the morning of my first day, I got up early, dressed in a shirt and
tie, and drove through rush hour traffic to a boxy glass building with
manicured lawns and man-made ponds.
I was left alone in my cube, and within a few days I had gone through
all of the documents at least twice and had gleaned from them what I could.
However, I was still confused about the nature of the project and had
no idea how to get started.
So I found HR and asked for a project number application form. A clerk
handed the packet of forms to me with a smirk and said, "Good luck,
Shorty."
I started in on the application and filled it out as best I could, but
I needed help with the essay sections on description, purpose, intended
audience, and market potential of the project. So I again ventured through
the long hallways of the Ajax Building looking for Josephine.
I managed to complete the project number application, but it wasn't easy,
especially since I didn't really understand the project or what Ajax wanted
me to do. I used a lot of technical words and catch phrases, attempting
to conceal my lack of real knowledge.
I
bandied about sentences like, "The importance of this project to
Ajax's market position in this crucial business sector cannot and must
not be underestimated."
"But
you've been here several weeks," she said. "By now you should
know what to do. If you don't, something's wrong, and we may have to
reconsider your assignment."
Location: missionCREEP > MouthWash > Man in the Basement > Section: 1 2 3 4
Email: walsh99@missioncreep•com