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the_siobhanI have switched back to beer because I am seriously drunk and I'm hoping steppint ti down a bit it might keep me awake longer.
I have been distracted by lengthy debates about Soul Asylum and Iggy Pop.
"Good morning," said Lajos.
"Not my fault, man. The agency doesn't let me set my own hours." The words passed through my lips out of pure force of habit before I realized. "What the hell, dude. You never say good morning."
He gave me a sickly smile just as the door swung open and our boss walked in.
I met our boss exactly once before, three years ago when I first started working in this department. I was so surprised I just stood there and gaped at her and it took me a few minutes to even register that ther was a second person entering the room behind her.
"Good morning everybody. This is Steve."
"Good morning." Steve had long blonde hair tied back on the nape of his neck. It looked like straw. His skin was grey and he had darker gray circles under his eyes. He wore the large 12-step button prominantly displayed on the front of his suit jacket.
"Steve will be working here on a trial basis. I'm sure you will show him teh ropes and make him at home." Boss Lady gave us a tight smile amd then nodded faintly towards me. I got the distinct impressoin she had no idea who I was.
"C'mon Steve, I'll show you around." I dropped my knapsack onto the table. Boss Lady nodded and walked out the door and Ahmed and Lajos both became very interested in whatever was going on on their desks.
In spite of the regular random exposure to zombies that is experienced by every single person in a decent sized city I had never actually spent any time talking to one before. I dunno, I had always imagined that being infected by a virus that made one crave brains led to being dim. I found out pretty fast that wasn't true. The mailroom isnt' exactly rocket science but there are a lot of small details that you have to remember, and Steve caught on really fast.
Lajos and Ahmed both offered to take the mail carts out, which is pretty much the opposite of how the work flow normally goes in our team. That left Steve and me alone for most of the day and we got through the stacks in record time. I slam-dunked the last package of the day into the outgoing box and settled back onto my chair.
"And that's it. We're done."
"OK. So what happens next?"
"Whatever you want. We've processed the outgoing mail and the guys are delivering everying that came in today. The next batch of inbound mail happens in the morning before we get here. That's it. We're done."
"...oh." He looked kind of stunned.
"Trust me, we're not normally done this early. But you know, four people instead of three. You can take off early if you want, if nobody's going to be checking on you."
"No, I can't do that. I don't know for sure that nobody will come in to see if I'm still here."
"That's cool." I leaned back in my chair and regarded him. He looked so out of place in his jacket and tie. The building dress code was "business casual", whatever that means, but down here in the mail room that generally disintegrated into "clean pants that aren't obviously jeans" and "shirts without swears on them".
"So how'd you end up in this job?" I asked him, then added really qucily. "This is just me making conversation, you don't have to answer any questoin I ask you." I had no idea how my question could end up int he wrong place but I wasn't taking any chances. Dude was a zombie.
"No, it's cool," he said. "I signed up with the UEA, and they sent me here.'
"UEA?"
"Yeah, Undead Employee Agency. I guess the living don't hear about it much, it's pretty much word of mouth."
"Cool." I tried to think of something else to say. "I guess that makes sense, I imagine most temp agencies wouldn't really know what to do with your guys. What did you do before this?"
He looked down at the table. That was the wrong question. I pushed my chair back and stood up.
"OK, let's go get some lunch. Uh... I'm sorry, do you... Um."
He smiled.
"I don't. Go have your lunch. I'll hang out here until you get back."
I have been distracted by lengthy debates about Soul Asylum and Iggy Pop.
"Good morning," said Lajos.
"Not my fault, man. The agency doesn't let me set my own hours." The words passed through my lips out of pure force of habit before I realized. "What the hell, dude. You never say good morning."
He gave me a sickly smile just as the door swung open and our boss walked in.
I met our boss exactly once before, three years ago when I first started working in this department. I was so surprised I just stood there and gaped at her and it took me a few minutes to even register that ther was a second person entering the room behind her.
"Good morning everybody. This is Steve."
"Good morning." Steve had long blonde hair tied back on the nape of his neck. It looked like straw. His skin was grey and he had darker gray circles under his eyes. He wore the large 12-step button prominantly displayed on the front of his suit jacket.
"Steve will be working here on a trial basis. I'm sure you will show him teh ropes and make him at home." Boss Lady gave us a tight smile amd then nodded faintly towards me. I got the distinct impressoin she had no idea who I was.
"C'mon Steve, I'll show you around." I dropped my knapsack onto the table. Boss Lady nodded and walked out the door and Ahmed and Lajos both became very interested in whatever was going on on their desks.
In spite of the regular random exposure to zombies that is experienced by every single person in a decent sized city I had never actually spent any time talking to one before. I dunno, I had always imagined that being infected by a virus that made one crave brains led to being dim. I found out pretty fast that wasn't true. The mailroom isnt' exactly rocket science but there are a lot of small details that you have to remember, and Steve caught on really fast.
Lajos and Ahmed both offered to take the mail carts out, which is pretty much the opposite of how the work flow normally goes in our team. That left Steve and me alone for most of the day and we got through the stacks in record time. I slam-dunked the last package of the day into the outgoing box and settled back onto my chair.
"And that's it. We're done."
"OK. So what happens next?"
"Whatever you want. We've processed the outgoing mail and the guys are delivering everying that came in today. The next batch of inbound mail happens in the morning before we get here. That's it. We're done."
"...oh." He looked kind of stunned.
"Trust me, we're not normally done this early. But you know, four people instead of three. You can take off early if you want, if nobody's going to be checking on you."
"No, I can't do that. I don't know for sure that nobody will come in to see if I'm still here."
"That's cool." I leaned back in my chair and regarded him. He looked so out of place in his jacket and tie. The building dress code was "business casual", whatever that means, but down here in the mail room that generally disintegrated into "clean pants that aren't obviously jeans" and "shirts without swears on them".
"So how'd you end up in this job?" I asked him, then added really qucily. "This is just me making conversation, you don't have to answer any questoin I ask you." I had no idea how my question could end up int he wrong place but I wasn't taking any chances. Dude was a zombie.
"No, it's cool," he said. "I signed up with the UEA, and they sent me here.'
"UEA?"
"Yeah, Undead Employee Agency. I guess the living don't hear about it much, it's pretty much word of mouth."
"Cool." I tried to think of something else to say. "I guess that makes sense, I imagine most temp agencies wouldn't really know what to do with your guys. What did you do before this?"
He looked down at the table. That was the wrong question. I pushed my chair back and stood up.
"OK, let's go get some lunch. Uh... I'm sorry, do you... Um."
He smiled.
"I don't. Go have your lunch. I'll hang out here until you get back."