Thursday, March 28, 2019

Story 282: Heard From Backstage at the Ballet


(In a theater)
Audience Member 1: Even though the ballet is horribly dull and I’m constantly having to guess what on Earth is going at any given moment, at least you got us pretty decent seats considering how cheap they were.
Audience Member 2: Yeah, we’re in the next-to-last-row, but at least they’re not too far from the center – not like those poor saps up in the side balconies.
Audience Member 1: I don’t even know why they bothered putting seats over there when you can only see ¾ of the action; I’d feel like I’m missing out on something everyone else is laughing at.
(Lights dim)
Audience Member 2: Ooh, shut up, it’s starting!
Audience Member 1: (Whispering) You’re the one talking.
Audience Member 2: (Whispering) Just making sure – this is The Ballet, not A Concert, so no screaming your praise throughout the whole show, please.
Audience Member 1: (Sighs) So dull.
(The music begins, the curtain rises, and the dancers emerge.  The principals have several solos and duets, then gracefully trot off stage left)
Audience Member 1: (Whispering) Hey, I can still see them backstage!
Audience Member 2: (Whispering) Uh-oh.  They didn’t pull the curtain over far enough.  Hope they notice soon that they can see us; that’ll clue them in –
Lead Dancer 1: (Heard by the entire audience over the music) You rushed the pas de deux again!
Lead Dancer 2: I did not, you were dragging!  Keep up the pace, you’re throwing the rest of us off our game!
Lead Dancer 1: Ugh, I wish the music wasn’t canned so I could tell the conductor to ignore you!  (Silence for a few seconds) Would you look at that, blood all over my shoes already and it’s only the middle of Act 1 – I beat my record!
(One of the on-stage dancers runs off stage left; the entire audience is facing that direction and ignoring the remaining dancers struggling on like champs)
Ensemble Dancer: Guys, take it to the dressing room, everyone can hear you!
Lead Dancer 1: Oh good, let them finally realize that beneath all the magic lies slave labor!
Lead Dancer 2: Hardly – we’re all getting paid.
Lead Dancer 1: Not nearly enough!  As you can see by this disgusting footwear that I’m waving in your face, my feet have been utterly obliterated by this cruel taskmaster called The Dance!  Is there enough money in the world to restore both my feet and my soul to their original condition?!
Stage Manager: Look, either keep it down or get back out there for your missed cues – you are ruining the show!
Audience Member 1: (Shouts) Let them finish, I want to hear what happens next!
Audience Member 2: Ssh!  Don’t embarrass me!
(The dancers who had remained on the stage stumble to a stop; Lead Dancer 1 hobbles out on bleeding feet to face the audience)
Lead Dancer 1: (While the soundtrack still is playing, holds the bloody ballet shoes aloft) Is this what you want?!  Us literally bleeding for your entertainment?!  (Is carried off by the stage crew, holding the same position) I hope you’re happy, you savages!
Audience Member 1: (Applauds enthusiastically) Woo-hoo!  This is AWESOME!
Audience Member 2: (Holds head in hands) Ballet has been ruined for me forever.
Audience Member 1: Aw, too bad, it just got interesting!

Thursday, March 21, 2019

Story 281: Black Market Vacation Hours


            (In an office)
            Co-Worker 1: (To Co-Worker 2) Psst!  Did you read the e-mail from Corporate yet?
            Co-Worker 2: (Continuously types) Which one?  There’ve been thousands.
            Co-Worker 1: You know, the one they just sent about our vacation hours?
            Co-Worker 2: The one that basically said “Use `em or lose `em”?
            Co-Worker 1: Yes!  How could they do that to us?!
            Co-Worker 2: What, tell us to take our earned vacation time?  What scumbags.
            Co-Worker 1: You know what I mean: not letting us accrue any more time off and then taking it away if we don’t use it!  That’s unconstitutional!
           Co-Worker 2: I doubt the Founding Fathers wrote in a provision for paid time off in the late 18th century.
            Co-Worker 1: Well, it’s gotta at least be illegal now!
            Co-Worker 2: Sadly, no; that’s why they’re called “benefits,” not “requirements.”
           Co-Worker 1: (While spinning in chair) WhatmIgonnadoooooo?  I have over 500 hours built up in my bank!
            Co-Worker 2: …Take a vacation?
            Co-Worker 1: (Stops spinning to collapse on the desk) You’re hilarious.  I can’t take a day off until maybe September, and only if everything goes according to plan.
           Co-Worker 2: Well, that’s a sad commentary on the state of present-day American workers.  (Suddenly stops typing to face Co-Worker 1 and speak in a low voice) If you have absolutely no intention of using at least 90% of your hours, would you be interested in making some money off them instead?
            Co-Worker 1: (Head still is smushed onto the desk) I can’t: I already bought back a day for perfect attendance, and I can’t donate any more to the sick leave pool, I might actually need some of those at this point.
            Co-Worker 2: I’m not talking about that.  (Writes a name and number on a card and slides it under Co-Worker 1’s face) Call this person.
            Co-Worker 1: (Sits up and holds out the card to stare at it) Who is this, someone from Human Resources?
            Co-Worker 2: No, they’re with Maintenance, but they have the answer you need.
            Co-Worker 1: That sound suspiciously vague, but I’m desperate enough to fall for it.
         (Several hours later, Co-Worker 1 looks around to see if anyone is nearby, then dials the number)
            Voice: Maintenance.
            Co-Worker 1: (Loudly whispers) Hi, I was given this number by… a friend….
            Voice: You guys got a leak in the ceiling or something?
           Co-Worker 1: N-no, it’s just, well, I have a lot of time (Winks exaggeratedly) on my hands (Winks again) that I need to do something about (Winks some more).
            Voice: Listen, I can’t hear you winking over the phone, but make any excuse and get down to the Boiler Room in 15 minutes.
            Co-Worker 1: Right.  (Winks again, then shakes head)
            Voice: One more thing: what’s a ballpark figure of time we’re talking about here?
            Co-Worker 1: (Lowers voice more) Oh, I don’t know, something around… 572.39.
            Voice: Holy moly, do you sleep here or something?!
            Co-Worker 1: That’s none of your business!  (Slams down receiver, then grimaces) I forgot to ask where the Boiler Room is.
           (A little more than fifteen minutes later, Co-Worker 1 arrives at the Boiler Room; several other employees are waiting in the hallway near the door)
           Co-Worker 1: (Nodding at them all while passing, not recognizing a single one) Afternoon.  (Knocks on the door, which opens after several seconds)
            Engineer: Yes?
            Co-Worker 1: Hello, I believe we spoke on the phone approximately 15 minutes ago – (Winks exaggeratedly)
           Engineer: Get in here.  (Pulls in Co-Worker 1 by the collar and yanks the door shut as the other employees start to rush it)
            Co-Worker 1: Are they – ?
            Engineer: Customers, yeah.  Had to get the word out while you’re still on the hook before you change your mind and back out.
            Co-Worker 1: Huh?
          Engineer: Sit down.  (Points to a chair in front of a desk; they both sit on opposite sides as Engineer starts working on a laptop that has a large number of cords coming out of it) So, how many of these hours are you willing to part with?
            Co-Worker 1: Oh, um, let me see, I haven’t thought of an actual number, this is all happening so fast – (Sees Engineer glaring) I suppose I could keep a week’s worth and give up the rest.
            Engineer (Nods and types) What’s your employee number?
            Co-Worker 1: Uh, heh-heh, I remember way back at orientation they said we’re not supposed to tell anyone that….
            Engineer: I need it to get into H.R.’s database and divvy up your hours.
         Co-Worker 1: Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait a minute, are you actually (Whispers) hacking into H.R.’s database?
           Engineer: How else did you think was gonna work?  (Gestures to the room) Does this look like the H.R. office?
            Co-Worker 1: I don’t know, I thought maybe this would be under the table or something.
            Engineer: This is under the table.  Now are you going through with it or not?  I’ve got a lot of desperate people out there who’ve run out of vacation time and sick time and need those hours badly so they can take care of their families.
            Co-Worker 1: Really?
         Engineer: Well, there’s at least one who keeps wanting to take cruises, but I don’t make judgements, just transactions.  So, are we doing this within the next five minutes?  I’ve got a department meeting in half an hour and my manager’ll kill me if I’m late again.
            Co-Worker 1: (Nods definitively) All right.  Let’s do this.  My employee number’s --------.
            Engineer: (Types and scrolls through information) Right; since you want to keep 40 hours I’m going to deduct 532 and assign them to those guys out there after I determine who needs how many.  The deductions will happen in increments over the next few months to avoid red flags, so you’ll see the number drop down slowly.
            Co-Worker 1: OK, that sounds… reasonable.
            Engineer: I also have to work out payment plans with the customers, so I can either send you the cash for each one or one big payment after I receive the last installment, your choice.
           Co-Worker 1: Hold on – (Points thumb back towards the door) they’re paying me?  But the hours are from the company!
           Engineer: Yeah, and they’ll be paid by the company when they use your hours!  We’re not about to double dip here: that would be wrong.
            Co-Worker 1: (Starts to stand) I don’t know, I thought the money was going to come from Corporate, I really didn’t think this through –
            Engineer: You certainly didn’t.  Now make up your mind and stop wasting my time, or I’m going to start charging you for it!
          Co-Worker 1: (Sits again) All right: go ahead with taking the hours, but I don’t want the money.
            Engineer: Say what now?
         Co-Worker 1: Just give them my hours!  That’s all I really wanted to do this whole time anyway, but H.R. doesn’t have a PTO donation option.
            Engineer: (Shakes head and begins typing again) If that’s what you want.  (Mutters) Weirdo.
          Co-Worker 1: I’m guessing you’re still going to charge those guys a fee for doing all this.  (Engineer gives Co-Worker 1 a “No duh” look before resuming typing) Yeah, I’d rather not know about all that.
          Engineer: (Hands over a form that just printed) OK: sign, date, and time here that you are waiving all rights to payment of hours, in perpetuity.
            Co-Worker 1: (Does so) Rather official for someone who likes to keep things off the record.
            Engineer: This is just for if you start complaining later, I’m taking you down with me.  (Files form in a cabinet drawer filled with folders, then stares at Co-Worker 1) You can go now.
            Co-Worker 1: Right.  (Stands quickly and heads to the door) Uh, thanks for, uh, solving my problem.
            Engineer: (Resumes typing) Ha!  Those saps out there should be thanking you – not only are they getting a boatload of extra PTO, your inexplicable generosity cut their fees by 75%!
            Co-Worker 1: (Winces) Win-win, I guess.  (Opens door to leave; the other employees quickly enter and slam the door behind them) I don’t know why a good deed like this still feels shady.

Thursday, March 14, 2019

Story 280: Why Do We Celebrate Birthdays?!


            (At a playground swing set)
            Schoolkid 1: (Swaying gently on the swing) Siiiiiigggghhhhh….
            Schoolkid 2: (Brakes from swinging wildly) What’s up?
            Schoolkid 1: Oh, nothing.
            Schoolkid 2: OK.  (Backpedals a bit to build up momentum again)
            Schoolkid 1: It’s just – (Schoolkid 2 skids to a stop before take-off) I’ve been thinking.
            Schoolkid 2: `Bout what?
           Schoolkid 1: Well, it’s my 10th birthday tomorrow, and as I approach double-digits I’ve started wondering, “What’s the point?”
            Schoolkid 2: Of what, life?
            Schoolkid 1: No!  Birthdays.
            Schoolkid 2: Oh.  Well, I can answer that: presents!
         Schoolkid 1: Obviously, can’t turn those down, but they’re just a symptom of the whole conundrum.
            Schoolkid 2: What?
            Schoolkid 1: I mean, why do we even take the time to celebrate the day we showed up on this Earth?  Whose idea was it first?  Who even noticed it first?  “Hey, I survived another year to the day from when I was first thrown into the gladiator pit that is Life, hooray for me, let’s party!”  Why?
            Schoolkid 2: (Spins on the swing to think) …Presents!
          Schoolkid 1: Yes-yes, we’ve established the presents corollary; what I want to know is why did we, collectively as a species, start down this path of commemorating our own personal orbits around the Sun?  Was it something to literally pass the time?  Was it a sigh of relief that your offspring had endured to carry on your genes?  Was it another reason to make everyone feel guilty if they forgot it?  And if age is just a number, then why are we all physically getting older anyway?  I don’t think I’ll ever get an answer.
          Schoolkid 2: (Twirls and thinks some more) I think it’s a special day all your own, and everybody has to be nice to you, and you get cake, and people give you presents!
            Schoolkid 1: I guess.  Well, when you get to be my age, maybe you’ll start wondering about all this, too.  If you come upon the answer, let me know.
          Schoolkid 2: (Starts swinging again) OK, but I turned 10 last month so I’m already double-digits!  And when I’m 16 I can get a job, and when I’m 18 I can vote, and when I’m…. (Continues)
             Schoolkid 1: Never mind.