with before
the shit officially hits the fan.”
Pithy
comebacks came to mind, “It already has,” maybe, or “I’ll go get an umbrella.”
None seemed worthy, and instead I just let myself the hell out, I left the door
slightly ajar. I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be the last one in that
office this morning, not by a long shot.
Chapter 5
My email app pinged. Eric’s
note announcing the unscheduled company meeting had just come in, setting a
time down to the minute when he’d be forced to lower the boom.
It was a nice
piece of business writing, clearly designed to foster the impression of honesty
and open communication while mitigating the knee-jerk panic that always
accompanied something like this. I wasn’t sure how much good it was going to
do, but the attempt, at least, was praiseworthy.
I remembered
the first time I’d been laid off. The company president had sent an email
calling a company meeting in the parking lot outside the office. The last time
he’d done that, there had been an ice cream truck waiting as a reward for our
hitting a milestone. This time, he told us that we were all fired, and the VP
of marketing locked the doors while he was making his speech. It was two weeks
before we were allowed back inside to get our stuff.
Out in the
hallway, I could hear the rising buzz as people reacted. At some companies, I
knew, they’d preface something like this by cutting net access or taking down
the mail server, pulling the plug on the phone system, and maybe locking the
doors, never mind that it was a fire hazard, all to keep word from getting out
a half-second faster than it might otherwise. Eric didn’t bother. Enough people
had net access through their phones that trying to shut down the lines of
communication was just going to look stupid and out of control.
So I applauded
Eric for playing it straight, even as I checked the clock. The meeting was
scheduled for eleven; it was a few minutes after ten now. There was plenty of
time to prep for whatever I intended to do, as soon as I figured out whatever
the hell that was.
The cell phone
fell into my hand as if by reflex. Yeah, I thought. Calling Sarah would be a
good start.
She was at her
desk when I called her, the phone ringing precisely twice before she picked it
up. “Sarah Bogdan.” It was an announcement. By calling her, I'd come into her
place of authority, seeking an audience. Or at the very least, that's what it
felt like.
“Hi,” I said.
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Ryan,” She
sounded exasperated. “I thought if you were going to call me during the day,
you'd use the landline so we didn't use up minutes.”
“Sorry. I just
hit the first number I had for you.”
She paused for
a second. “Are you all right? You sound funny.”
I pulled the
phone away from my face for a moment, so the explosive sigh I'd been holding in
didn't deafen her. “No, I'm not all right,” I said. “Remember that offer you made
last night?”
“Yes?” She
drew the word out until it was begging for a few more syllables. “Why?”
I pressed on.
“Remember how we said there was going to be plenty of time before I needed to
make a decision?”
“What are you
getting at, Ryan? I'm kind of busy, and I’m sorry, honey, but I don’t have time
for guessing games.”
The urge to
hang up came and went, just like that. Calm, I told myself. Be calm. She
doesn't know. “You said when my project's done, right? Well, that's going to be
in about an hour.”
There was a
pause which I put down to either confusion or elation. “I don't understand. I
thought you weren't at alpha yet. How can you be done...oh. Oh, I'm sorry,
honey. That’s terrible news.”
“Yeah.” I
kicked the floor experimentally, sending my chair spinning slowly
counterclockwise. “So, anyway, I, um, I just wanted to let you know. That
maybe, there'd be a change coming sooner instead of later. Or maybe not. I
don't know. It
the shit officially hits the fan.”
Pithy
comebacks came to mind, “It already has,” maybe, or “I’ll go get an umbrella.”
None seemed worthy, and instead I just let myself the hell out, I left the door
slightly ajar. I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be the last one in that
office this morning, not by a long shot.
Chapter 5
My email app pinged. Eric’s
note announcing the unscheduled company meeting had just come in, setting a
time down to the minute when he’d be forced to lower the boom.
It was a nice
piece of business writing, clearly designed to foster the impression of honesty
and open communication while mitigating the knee-jerk panic that always
accompanied something like this. I wasn’t sure how much good it was going to
do, but the attempt, at least, was praiseworthy.
I remembered
the first time I’d been laid off. The company president had sent an email
calling a company meeting in the parking lot outside the office. The last time
he’d done that, there had been an ice cream truck waiting as a reward for our
hitting a milestone. This time, he told us that we were all fired, and the VP
of marketing locked the doors while he was making his speech. It was two weeks
before we were allowed back inside to get our stuff.
Out in the
hallway, I could hear the rising buzz as people reacted. At some companies, I
knew, they’d preface something like this by cutting net access or taking down
the mail server, pulling the plug on the phone system, and maybe locking the
doors, never mind that it was a fire hazard, all to keep word from getting out
a half-second faster than it might otherwise. Eric didn’t bother. Enough people
had net access through their phones that trying to shut down the lines of
communication was just going to look stupid and out of control.
So I applauded
Eric for playing it straight, even as I checked the clock. The meeting was
scheduled for eleven; it was a few minutes after ten now. There was plenty of
time to prep for whatever I intended to do, as soon as I figured out whatever
the hell that was.
The cell phone
fell into my hand as if by reflex. Yeah, I thought. Calling Sarah would be a
good start.
She was at her
desk when I called her, the phone ringing precisely twice before she picked it
up. “Sarah Bogdan.” It was an announcement. By calling her, I'd come into her
place of authority, seeking an audience. Or at the very least, that's what it
felt like.
“Hi,” I said.
“Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Ryan,” She
sounded exasperated. “I thought if you were going to call me during the day,
you'd use the landline so we didn't use up minutes.”
“Sorry. I just
hit the first number I had for you.”
She paused for
a second. “Are you all right? You sound funny.”
I pulled the
phone away from my face for a moment, so the explosive sigh I'd been holding in
didn't deafen her. “No, I'm not all right,” I said. “Remember that offer you made
last night?”
“Yes?” She
drew the word out until it was begging for a few more syllables. “Why?”
I pressed on.
“Remember how we said there was going to be plenty of time before I needed to
make a decision?”
“What are you
getting at, Ryan? I'm kind of busy, and I’m sorry, honey, but I don’t have time
for guessing games.”
The urge to
hang up came and went, just like that. Calm, I told myself. Be calm. She
doesn't know. “You said when my project's done, right? Well, that's going to be
in about an hour.”
There was a
pause which I put down to either confusion or elation. “I don't understand. I
thought you weren't at alpha yet. How can you be done...oh. Oh, I'm sorry,
honey. That’s terrible news.”
“Yeah.” I
kicked the floor experimentally, sending my chair spinning slowly
counterclockwise. “So, anyway, I, um, I just wanted to let you know. That
maybe, there'd be a change coming sooner instead of later. Or maybe not. I
don't know. It
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