I was reaching to open the side door that led into the mail room as it violently whooshed inward. My hand recoiled, and I looked up to see a tight-lipped coworker glaring at me.
“You didn’t finish what I left on your chair.”
Quickly scanning my memory, I was quite certain nothing was there when I left. When I tried to step up and into the building, my new friend put her arm out to stop my forward motion.
“Are you going to work on it now?”
“Sure, as soon as I get settled.”
She turned sideways and stopped blocking me. “Do you have time to look at it now?” She blew out a vast amount of air through her puffed cheeks, nodded, and pointed so I could go first.
“Alison, I’ll catch up with you later.”
“No problem,” Alison said, waving and giving me a wide, fake smile.
While I walked past my boss’ office, I could see him watching me take off my coat. He looked at the clock on the wall and scowled. That situation would have to wait until the short, feisty redhead stomping behind was taken care of first. I nodded to my boss and disappeared in the direction on my desk. Passing the bathroom in the little hall before my workspace reminded me that my stomach was becoming more unsettled.
“See?” she said as I pulled my chair out to sit down. “Didn’t you see that?”
“I went out to lunch with Alison and the owners.” I grabbed the papers and sat down roughly. “First-day tradition, right?”
She leaned against the wall so she could look over my shoulder. I could tell it was not something everyone did by her crossed arms and bored expression.
“Can you get this done quick?”
I took the single page, looked at it, flipped it over, and looked at my watcher. “There’s no work order.” I grabbed the stand where the work orders were signed in. “There’s nothing on here either. I need to know what association to bill.”
She leaned forward to within inches of my face. “Listen,” she said just loud enough for me to hear. After that, a unique string of profanity mixed with vulgarities streamed from her lips as each syllable was enunciated clearly and slowly. I could feel that even my ears were turning red as the torrent of curseburn made me blush intensely. “Okay?” She ended with leaning against the wall like nothing had happened.
One thing I have never really understood was the need for so many extra words that many people use to pepper their conversations. I personally didn’t use them; however, I never make a big deal when others do. In this case, there was no way I was going to even try to understand how that outburst was professional, let alone civil. Control through intimidation might work elsewhere, but not here. This was my space, and some boundaries had to be set.
“I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but you’ll still have to fill out the work order and sign it in while I do these corrections.” I held out the paperwork to fill out and the sign-in stand. “If you need a pen, there’s a couple to choose from on my desk.”
She ripped the items from my hand and grabbed a pen while I made the changes.
“Hate to be a stickler, but that’s what they told me everyone has to do.”
“Is this your first job?” She put the stand back, dropped the paper in my bin, and clicked the pen incessantly.
While looking at the screen, I answered, “Not really, but hopefully I’ll be here for a while. How about you?”
“Are you asking if it’s my first job or if I’ll be here awhile?” I turned and saw she was relaxing.
“I hate this place.” She looked at her nails. “Hate’s a strong word, but it’ll do.”
“I’m not there yet. Still loving the opportunity.” I went back to working. “How come you didn’t make these changes yourself?”
“Have you seen what we use?” she asked and then kept talking. “It’s the worst system ever. You have the only computer that has a mouse.”
“Are you serious?” I had not noticed when I walked around.
“There’s no voice mail either. We have to actually write down messages, and we’re not supposed to miss any calls.” She crouched down next to me. “Your computer at least has more than one color.”
“Do you want me to get a chair?” I stood up and didn’t wait for an answer. I walked through the door to the front of the office, grabbed a chair from a desk with a typewriter on it, and returned. “Here,” I said, positioning it so she could sit and see my screen.
“Thanks.” She got comfortable and crossed her legs. “Have you been doing this long?”
I sat and kept working. “When I was in college, I had three co-op jobs doing newsletters and stuff for the Computer Department. I wasn’t doing this recently, but it’s not something you forget.”
She sat back and looked around my space. “This is a horrible little hole, don’t you think?”
It was becoming painfully obvious that it was going to take every positive thought I had to keep from slipping into her dark world of negativity. Maybe she thought everyone looked at the world like her, or maybe she liked surrounding herself with people that thought all glasses were half-empty at most.
“Horrible?”
“Well, it’s real small.” She sniffed arrogantly and tapped her nails on her leg.
Pointing, I said, “I have an emergency exit behind me, a door to the basement slightly to the right, a door upstairs in front, a door to the front of the office to my left, and I’m right next to a bathroom. What more do I need?”
“Wait until taco day.” She laughed evilly. “You’ll see how much fun it is sitting next to a bathroom.
“Taco day?” My interest was piqued.
“We have a cook that comes in every day but Friday. Hope you like everything soaked in lots of butter. It’s all very good, but for some, it’s not that sort of food that stays around long, if you know what I mean.” She brushed off her pants, crossed her arms, and watched me work. “Almost done?”
“I just need to print it out, and you’re all set.” I swiveled my chair to the right, grabbed the paper as it came out, and handed it over. “Good?”
“You’ve got your own printer too?” She stared at the original then the new version, making sure I made all the changes.
“I need all this to do my job.”
She stared over the paper at me when I commented. After seeing I was serious, she shrugged and stood up.
“Do you need anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, reading the paper and reaching to open the door to go upstairs. Disappearing quickly with no more words, she left much more calmly than when she had entered.
I took all the jobs out of my bin, looked through them, and picked the next one I needed to work on when I returned. I stood up, stretched, and put the straightened remaining stack back and tossed a hefty binder-clipped pile of paper next to my mouse. My boss was surely going to want to talk to me about my lengthy lunch. After quickly checking that my complexion had returned to normal, I darted toward his office.
Turning the corner, I could see he was on the phone in his office. He saw me through the circular glass cutout in his door and opened it.
Cupping the receiver, he said, “I’ll just be a minute. Don’t move.”
He shut the door, and I stood there, waiting. A couple of machines were spitting out copies at a rapid pace. Blue ink smears were everywhere around that area, and some weird chemical smell kept wafting toward me.
Green shelving with all kinds of paper caught my attention. There were fancy colors, plain white, thick, thin, and many different sizes. Since I was going to be the one putting the words on most of it, I took a quick mental inventory of it all. When my boss’ door opened, I was among the shelves, picking at paper packs.
“You moved,” he called from his office. “Come on in now.”
His office was smaller than mine because it was full of stuff, so I tried to move in as far as possible so we weren’t nose to nose. I leaned against the brown wood-paneled wall and watched him close the door and sit.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going to be out so long for lunch.”
He took off his hat and scratched his head.
“It won’t happen again,” I added.
Looking at his hat, he said, “You get paid by the hour. You’ll make it up. I want to know why you went out with the owners.”
I was not sure how to answer the question without blaming Alison. It was all her idea, but I was dumb enough to go along with it.
“Doesn’t everyone go out with them on their first day?”
“Must be something new that crazy HR lady dreamed up.” He banged his hat on his leg and then put it back on again, covering his short, greasy locks. “None of us support people have ever gotten to do that.” He pulled down the brim of his hat and then looked up at me. “Don’t be getting any fancy ideas of trying to take over this place just because they had a meal with you.”
I put my hand to my chest and shook my head. “It was just lunch.”
He sniffed and wiped his nose. “Bring me back anything?”
“I think WC was going to put stuff in the lunchroom. I’m sure there’s something you’ll like.” I smiled, hoping he wasn’t going to talk to HR and find out it was not her idea.
“There’s something you have to realize.” He began leaning back. “You aren’t one of those people on a team, and you sure aren’t ever going to be an exec.” He leaned forward again. “You know what I’m saying, right?”
“Not really,” I said slowly.
“Crap rolls downhill. We, sir, have been hired to be the lucky ones that will catch it all since there is no one lower than us. Grab your hip boots because it gets deep. Am I being clear?” He stared at me with his mouth slightly open, a very disturbing image.
I understood what he meant, but I could not allow myself to believe the situation was that bleak. My feisty redhead friend was just as negative, and she was on a team. Did everyone think this way?
“Sure are,” I said so he would stop making that face.
“We all have jobs that need to get done, including you. So make up the time tonight and stop dreaming so big.” He opened the door and stood. “Let’s go find what Mr. Manor brought back.”
In the lunchroom, a few people were gathered around tiny white containers, looking at their contents.
“How many of you went out to lunch?” someone asked me as I entered.
“Four.” I sat down next to my sister’s friend. “I had a club.”
“How’s it going so far?” she asked quietly.
I turned to her and winced. “Not everyone is as nice as you,” I said even more softly. “Is there a real rift between everyone that works down here and those that work upstairs?”
She leaned in close. “Some people need there to be.”
“Need?” I was not following.
“When one messes up, one needs someone to be blamed. Everyone will blame you guys if their association’s stuff goes out wrong. If a mistake makes it through desktop, printing, mailing, and gets into the member’s hand, no one is going to look back to where the work started.” She nodded. “I sat in your seat, and now I’m on a team. I understand it all too well.”
“How are things ever going to change?” I wanted to fix it all before it got me fired.
“Take responsibility for the mistakes you make. If everyone does that, then a lot of the tension will naturally go away. There’s only so many times that someone can blame the same person over and over. Too bad some of the good ones get tossed out until they figure out who really needs to go.” She stood up and walked out, leaving me wondering if I even wanted to try to make a difference.
As I was pondering, in walked Alison. She was twirling her glasses and smiled when she saw me. “Everything okay?”
“You getting back to work?” my boss asked, munching on something.
“We can talk later,” she called as I left the room.
I stopped into the bathroom and locked the door. After a few deep breaths while I tightly gripped the sink, I was ready to go back to my desk and work on the next job.
I opened the door, walked calmly to my desk, sat down, and rolled my chair forward. My left knee bashed into the desk, and I stopped dead. Rubbing the spot helped as I noticed that I really didn’t fit under my desk unless I stretched out my legs and then bent them. The tops of my knees hit the middle drawer in the desk when I tried to get comfortable.
My chair was as low as it would go when I pulled the handle on the side. I found that if I sat with my bottom closer to the front edge of the seat, I could get under the desk easier; however, it looked like I was slumping down in my chair—a little too casual, I thought. Choosing between slouching and further bruising was simple. Sitting up when people passed through was worth not having to remember I was too big for my desk.
Once I was in the best position, I unclipped the next job and saw it would probably take me hours to do the initial layout work. All seemed to flow nicely as I kept working past quitting time to make up for my extended lunch. People came through on the way out and said good-bye as I was getting close to being done. When I finished printing it out, I double-checked my work, clipped it back together, and looked at the work order to see who put in the job so I could deliver it before leaving.
Not too many people were left as I slowly walked up each flight of stairs. A few people were too busy typing and shuffling papers to notice me passing through, so I didn’t interrupt. I knew where the person who put in the job sat, but didn’t have a chance to introduce myself yet. As I began to climb the last few steps. I heard laughing and loud talking.