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.

Thursday, March 7, 2019

Story 279: I Wasn’t Supposed to Win the Award


            (At a breakfast/lunch restaurant)
            Costumer Designer: So now I’m expected to drop everything, fly all the way out to Fiji, and spend three weeks on pristine beaches altering costumes on every single extra again and redesigning the lead’s entire ensemble from beginning to end because it’s apparently not quote-unquote “climate-appropriate.”
            Non-Film Industry Friend: What a burden.
           Costume Designer: I know, right?  (Sees alert on phone and reads message) Aw, dagnabit!
            Non-Film Industry Friend: What, next you’ll have to fly out to Paris?
         Costume Designer: (Shudders) Heavens, no; they announced the ------- Award nominations this morning and this says that I got nominated for Best Costume Design for that one I did three years ago and just came out last month.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Chokes on coffee) What?!  I didn’t even know you were in the running to be… in the running!
            Costume Designer: (Tosses the phone onto the table) Yeah, they nominated everybody who had anything tangentially to do with that flick, which means it’ll win Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Screenplay, and Best Director, but not Best Picture.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: But you still got nominated for costumes!  That’s great!
            Costume Designer: (Focuses on buttering toast) Yeah.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: I don’t understand – why aren’t you thrilled beyond belief?
            Costume Designer: Because now it means I have to go to the awards show!
            Non-Film Industry Friend: Yes it does!
            Costume Designer: Do you know how boring those things are?!
            Non-Film Industry Friend: But – but – but it’s the ------!
           Costume Designer: Doesn’t make it any less tedious.  Plus, why should I have to sit through everybody else’s drama when I could be home, watching it on TV?
            Non-Film Industry Friend: `Cause you might win!
          Costume Designer: Ha.  I saw who else is nominated: three period pieces and an innovative space opera.  My designs, on the other hand, come to me in my nightmares.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: You mean your dreams?
          Costume Designer: You heard me.  (Reads another message on the phone) Oh look, it’s the studio head, congratulating us and saying we’d better show up for the awards show or never work in this town again.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: They actually said that?
         Costume Designer: I’m pretty sure that last bit was directed solely to me.  (Sighs while crunching into toast) Guess I should begin the mental prep now – it’s only three months away.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: Need any help writing your acceptance speech?
          Costume Designer: Don’t waste the energy – you’ll need it to face the long hours sitting in almost-comfortable chairs.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: Ooh, so I can be your guest then?
            Costume Designer: Sure, I’ll need someone to talk to who isn’t me.

THE NIGHT OF THE ------- AWARDS

            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Looking all around the spectacle in awe as they disembark from a bus in front of the theater; both are wearing business casual) Oh wow, red carpet treatment!  This is all so glamorous!
            Costume Designer: Yeah, we go in this way.  (Points to a side entrance)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: Oh.  We can’t just hurry through the reception line and get maybe one paparazzo photo by mistake?  I was hoping to see ----- ------ up close from afar.
           Costume Designer: C’mon, it’s less hectic this way – besides, you should see where they make the science award nominees enter.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: Where, the back?
            Costume Designer: Nope: last week.  Zing!  Poor underappreciated nerds.
            (Several hours later, they are sitting in the third upper mezzanine)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Squinting) I can almost see the stage.
           Costume Designer: (Munching on popcorn) Yeah, we’ve got some time yet.  Wake me when they get up to Best Sound, would you?
            Non-Film Industry Friend: Editing or Mixing?
           Costume Designer: (Takes out a pillow and blanket and snuggles into the seat) Surprise me.
            (Several hours later)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Shakes Costume Designer awake) It’s coming!
            Costume Designer: Huh?  Is the plane landed yet?
            Non-Film Industry Friend: No-no, your category!
            Costume Designer: Oh, that.  Let me get my act together.  (Takes out several pieces of paper covered in numbers)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: What’s all this?
            Costume Designer: My pool.  My money’s on the space opera.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: You bet against yourself?!
            Costume Designer: Darn tootin’; figured this wouldn’t be a total waste of time.
            Announcer: And the ----- goes to… ------- ---------- for ---!
            (Costume Designer’s mouth drops open as Non-Film Industry Friend screams)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: You won-you won-you won-you won!!!!
            (A camera operator is in place to film Costume Designer’s trek to the stage)
           Costume Designer: (While being pushed out of the seat by Non-Film Industry Friend) This wasn’t supposed to happen – (To Non-Film Industry Friend) I’m out $3,000!
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Applauding wildly and crying) Just get up there, you fool!
          (Nearby audience members assist in pushing Costume Designer down the aisle, stairs, and main aisle to the stage; for the first time in TV history, there is a cut to a commercial during this)
         Costume Designer: (While being pulled up the stairs to the stage by the Announcer and production assistants) Are you sure the accounting firm tallied the ballots correctly?!  I strongly suspect voter fraud!
          (The Announcer hands over the award, then guides Costume Designer to the microphone as the latter tries to exit stage right)
            Costume Designer: (After a few seconds staring at all the humans staring back) I really don’t have a speech prepared…. (Audience laughs)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Bellows from way back) Just thank everybody!
            Costume Designer: Oh yeah – thanks, everybody.  (Stares some more) Is my time up yet?  (A production assistant points to the timer counting down) Ten seconds?!  Uh… thanks?  Already said that, uhhh… no “I” in “Team”?... Uhhh…. World peace?  (The exit music starts playing) Oh thank goodness – bye!  (Runs back through the theater, up the stairs, and collapses back into the seat)
            Non-Film Industry Friend: That was great – can I hold it?
          Costume Designer: (Tosses the award onto Non-Film Industry Friend’s lap) Sure – keep it if you want.
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Holds award in a pose) I’d like to thank my parents –
            Costume Designer: Too bad I just now realized I should’ve sent you up there.
          (A production assistant approaches them, gasping for breath after climbing the stairs in double-time)
            Production Assistant: Excuse me, they need you backstage for photos.
            Costume Designer: Why??
            Production Assistant: Because…
            Costume Designer: Oh fine, I’ll be right there.  (Takes back the award while getting out of the seat) I tell you, it never ends!
            Non-Film Industry Friend: (Sniffs) This is the most magical evening of my life!
           Costume Designer: (On the way down the aisle) All I have to say is, I better not find myself here again next year!  My foot fell asleep twice already and we’ve still got another 20 awards to go!