Three weeks after the take over, the hatchet man arrived. The day before had been a memo for all of us to be on our best behavior. You'd have thought we had food fights or spitball competitions in the break room. This was more like waiting for a white glove inspection from someone in the military and an IRS audit combined. Every desk critiqued for how much paper was on it. How long it took for a computer terminal to automatically lock for being idle. What each of us had on our cubicle walls. To what was the screensaver on our computers.
I think there was going to be an inventory and roundup of the dust bunnies in the office, too. Except we didn't get quite that far. I'm sure if someone could have bagged and tagged them, we would have done.
At ten minutes to ten, a hush fell over the office when the stranger came. I was waiting for the soundtrack to come in and play the theme from the Good the Bad and the Ugly. But it didn't. Instead the copier jammed.
She had come from the new corporate office in Atlanta, Georgia. Decked out in a power suit from either the 80s or 90s. I didn't see the ruffled scarf at the neck that would have made everything much more classic, but could see the no nonsense look about the rest of her. It looked like her feet had swollen in her shoes and her personality got pinched when her toes did.
She nodded at everyone she met, but she shook hands with no one and exchanged no greetings. Instead she focused on the end of the hall where her temporary office was set up. I don't know who'd felt the need to suck up and provide her with flowers and the like for her office, I figured unless they could expense it, it was a waste and she was here to cut all of the waste.
She went into her office and closed the door with a snick.
Every fifteen minutes someone was called into her office. No one went back to the floor after the meeting. They all adjourned to a conference room. There was no way to guage how things had gone. Who had survived and who hadn't.
By three o'clock I was the last one in my section who hadn't been summoned. It was either a very good omen or a very bad one.
She rose from her seat and smiled, "I'm Sally Howard."
I took the offered hand. "Bernie XXX."
She indicated that I sit, so I did. It was a short and sweet meeting. If I wanted to stay, my job would be offered to me, but at a reduced wage and increased responsibilities.
"We've done a national average of what someone in your position does and earns," she said. "And looking at the charts for this geographic area," she took in a deep breath, "this office has been highly over paid."
Overpaid? Sure half of the staff worked part time and were still in college, but they were working toward degrees in XZY on the promise of management that they would have full time positions when they graduated. Some of them had gotten so comfortable, they'd encouraged friends and neighbors to work for us, at a reduced salary, so they could continue their educations. Now they'd likely have their salaries cut, college benefits dropped, and have to work full time and not get the opportunities of advancement offered them.
"Okay," I said. It didn't take me too long to think about it. I hadn't really liked working with numbers. Sure I'd done it a long time and spreadsheets talked to me. Data sets and patterns just showed up and were right there, all but waving at me, showing me their discrepancies.
She named my next proposed supervisor, gave me a new list of job duties, and then told me how much she'd reduce my salary and the hours she'd demand in exchange.
"What do you think?" she asked.
Think? There will never be peace in the middle east. The national budget will never be balanced. No one will ever create a stilleto pump that's comfortable, sexy, and affordable all in the same shoe. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, lady.
"No, thank you," I said.
"But we want you," she said.
"No you don't." If they wanted me and valued me they weren't going to be heaping all kinds of bullshit on top of me. Not now. It was high time I stood up for myself and said what I thought.
"If you leave and we've offered you a job, there's no severance package," she said. "And we fully intend to keep you."
And I fully intend on watching you try and abuse me with my full knowledge.
"If you want to keep me, leave me to do my job the way I've been doing it. The whole team in place," I said. I knew the whole team wasn't going to be saved, but maybe my supervisor or Vic would be able to keep their jobs.
"I can't do that." She pushed a few keys on her keyboard and looked at the screen of her laptop. "I can offer you twenty percent."
"Increase or decrease?"
"I will decrease the amount of your decrease by twenty percent," she said.
That amount was still better than what they'd offered, but was still far below what I'd been offered four years ago when I'd had no experience in the field.
"Thank you," I said. I pushed my chair away from the desk and rose.
"So you'll stay?" she asked, smiling. It wasn't even a fake smile. It was more like Mona Lisa had just been handed a dental bill and was told of about five root canals in her future.
"Thank you for your consideration." I put my hand on the door knob. "I still can't accept the pay cut. Do I have two weeks or am I dismissed immediately?"
"Can you stay until you're replaced?" she asked.
"At my current salary?"
"No. At the initial figure I mentioned."
I shook my head. Nope. I wouldn't have a good attitude and I'd be resentful. I finally got my attitude about life and work where I wanted it. I didn't want to poison the well this early.
"Friday afternoon," she said. "And you aren't to discuss this with anyone."
Like hell. I knew we'd all want to discuss it. In detail. I just nodded.
I knew it might be coming. I'd updated and fixed my resume weeks ago. I had enough time to make sure I had my contacts updated to a flash drive and I'd start making phone calls and dropping emails sooner than later.
I walked to the parking lot and was never so happy to see my old clunker of a sedan. It was paid for, cheap on gas, and the insurance was affordable. When Grady left, I'd considered negotiating with him for his leased vehicle but figured it was too much effort and too much fighting.
My phone buzzed as I put the key in the ignition. I smiled when I realized it was Marcella.
"Hey, lady," I said as I answered the phone. "What can I do you?"
"I wanted to know if you could pull a couple of shifts this week. The new guy isn't working out."
"Giggling or disgusted?"
"Giggling."
Marcella didn't care what people wanted to buy. She respected their needs and their privacy. but her respect also meant that she'd not comment on anyone's purchases unless it was to add to it. Never, why do you want this oil and that candle. No. It was more like, have you thought about adding xyz to it if you want to do kkkkk? Up selling and respect those were the names of the games.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something part time." I adjusted my set belt, balancing the phone between my chin and shoulder. I hate those bluetooth things, I can never get them situated in my ear and then it hurts for several days.
"When can you come?" she asked. "You are the answer to a prayer."
"Can I bring the dog?"
"Sure. Your dad's talked about him for weeks. I can't wait to meet the little fella."
Little Louie never would be. Low to the ground was a whole nother story.
"Give me about an hour. You're the best, Marcella," I said.
~~~
tbc
word count: 1425
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