J. Gonzalez - The Corporation

“What about bestiality photos?” Michelle quipped.

“Then I tell them to go fuck themselves and I walk. I can always find this kind of grunt work anywhere. Although now that I think about it, a lot of this shit they’re sending overseas to India where pretty soon they’ll be replacing human beings with trained monkeys since a monkey will work for less than five dollars a day.”

“And if that happens you just find another way to make a living,” Michelle said. “Right?”

“Hell yeah. I mean, I’ll work as an auto mechanic again if I have to. I’ve done that before too. I can do it again. Sometimes I find that line of work more preferable than what I’m doing now. Less bullshit to deal with.”

“So how have things been bad at Building Products since Corporate Financial came into the picture?” Michelle asked in a lowered voice. She didn’t want Alan Perkins to hear her; God forbid word traveled back to Sam that she was gossiping.

“Building Products wanted them to develop this Human Resources software,” Jay began. “They had a shitload of meetings for, like, six months, talked to everybody in the company from the receptionists to the CEO to get their input. Like input from the receptionist matters, know what I mean?” Another drag of the cigarette. “Once they got that together, they started working on the software and I uploaded a couple of Beta-versions of it to the Intranet server for some in-house testing. And ever since then, everybody who works in this place has walked around with a severe stick up their ass. It’s like working at Building Products has become the most important thing on the planet. There’s guys working long hours and on weekends for nothing in return—they’re not getting overtime, they’re not taking comp days or anything. One time I joked with one of the office managers about it and he was all serious. ‘The work has to get done Jay. There’s no other way around it.’ I’ve been suggesting real subtly to my boss and other people that we could really use another IT tech at this place and nobody will listen. They’d rather pay two guys to do the work of four and five people and when shit happens and work piles up, they want you to sacrifice everything to make shit happen. Fuck that.” Jay took another drag of his cigarette. “I don’t play that shit. You get what you pay for is my opinion.”

“I don’t either,” Michelle said. Talking to Jay was like a breath of fresh air, cigarette smoke notwithstanding. “My life is too important to miss out on the good things in life.”

“Exactly. There’s guys here that miss activities their kids are in. Barb… she’s a complete whackfuck if I’ve ever met one.” Jay’s dark eyes centered on Barb briefly. “She’s in the office by six-thirty in the morning and leaves at seven-thirty, eight o’clock at night. Sometimes later. And she’s here on Saturdays, too. Sometimes Sundays. She has two kids, and she’s married, and one of her kids is out of control at school, getting in trouble and shit. Her husband works too, so he ain’t around. She makes more than enough money to enable him to stay home, or at least take a part time job and make sure one of them is around for their kids, but they don’t.”

“Maybe they have a lot of bills,” Michelle suggested.

“With her salary? She’d have to be spending money like the Federal Government to be that deep in debt.”

Michelle shrugged and took a sip of her dwindling glass of beer. “Well, they say the more money you make, the more you spend.”

“Barb really gets off on this shit,” Jay said, his voice still lowered. “She was always like that, but she’s been worse since Corporate Financial stepped in, and a lot of people, especially those at the managerial level, have become like her. It’s kinda creepy in a way.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s like that Jack Finney story, Invasion of the Body Snatchers .”

Michelle grinned; she liked Jay even more now. It was rare to meet somebody who worked in the corporate world who was well-read. “I gotta admit it does sound like Invasion of the Body Snatchers . Managers will get like that when the suits above them initiate some bullshit policy or something. They all lose their perspective and fall into line. They stop thinking for themselves or what’s best for their departments or the company in some cases.”

“Well, it ain’t just the managers at this place. It’s most of the other employees, too. They’re not as bad, but I can definitely tell something’s up. But then I might just be overreacting to this shit. I mean, I’m one of the only people here at Building Products who would rather be doing something else, know what I mean? A lot of the people who work here actually went to school to learn their jobs. You know… they all majored in Accounting or got MBAs because it’s what they wanted in the first place. Me, I just fell into this shit because I saw it was a way to make some good money. I could easily do something else.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

Jay looked at her, as if he were deciding whether he could trust her. “Let’s just say I have my own aspirations for a vocation that has nothing to do with Building Product’s corporate goals and visions and leave it at that.”

Michelle could dig it. She was wearing a similar shoe.

“Besides,” Jay said, dragging on his cigarette. “Even people who really like what they’re doing here have changed. They’re more into the company than they ever were. The shit they’re doing, the work they really like doing, has taken a back seat. At least that’s how it seems. It’s like they’ve lost all focus of what makes them happy and wakes them up in the morning. They don’t realize that what it all boils down to is, what we’re doing here at Building Products are just jobs. They’re not saving the world or anything, but some of them are acting like what they’re doing is the most important thing in the world.”

“If that’s the case, what are you working at Building Products for, Jay?”

Michelle started at the sound of Barb’s voice and turned toward her, feeling slightly embarrassed. Barb was regarding them coolly, a fresh glass of whiskey in front of her. For a closet alcoholic she didn’t appear inebriated yet.

Jay didn’t look surprised or embarrassed that his comment had caught Barb’s attention. He fixed her with his patented stare and said, “What do you think? I’m there for the paycheck. Isn’t that what most people work for? The money?”

The conversation had caught the attention of the rest of the group and Alan was leaning back in his seat, looking interested. A couple of the Building Products people were silent, some grinning as if waiting for the fireworks to start between Barb and Jay. Barb took a sip of her drink. “It’s not why I work at Building Products. What about you Gregg? Bob? Mark?”

The other guys shook their heads. Barb nodded at Alan. “What about you Alan? What motivates you to work for Corporate Financial?”

“I enjoy interacting with my clients and helping to improve their business,” Alan said. He leaned forward, catching Michelle’s eye quickly. “What about you, Michelle?”

For a brief moment Michelle was at a crossroads. She was still new to Corporate Financial Consultants, and didn’t know Alan well enough to let loose around him. She was quick enough to respond with a neutral answer. “I enjoy the work, I’m good at what I do, and I like the compensation.”

“Of course you do,” Jay said, and Michelle could tell from the vibe she was getting off of him that he understood where she was coming from, that she was trying to avoid getting into trouble with her co-worker at Corporate Financial. “That’s the sane answer. It’s always good to like what you’re doing as well as the money. But if you were a millionaire would you be doing this?” This last question was directed at Barb.