Slum Enterprise - Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
The picnic was mandatory attendance. Enforced by Matthew Jacobson, Lees’s department Director. Matthew was once a common cog, he rose up the ranks, job hopped a bit and found himself back as the director. He was in charge of around 85 people. Every morning he gazed at the department vertical and counted everyone who was under his pyramid.
Short legs, long torso, his overall proportions were funny. His short legs moved fast while his torso swayed and moved in slow motion like how a tank moves. His hair was pure white and slicked back. The stress of corporate ladder climbing had made massive work on his hair follicles even though he was in his late 40’s. His head was long and narrow which acted as a weather vane and cut through the office air with little resistance.
Lee grabbed his work bag and lunch box, everyone was doing the same. It was time for the picnic over at Mory Park, a stones throw away from the corporate campus. A mass shuffle of bodies walked down the main hall back out the front entrance. People badged out and all loaded into their shit box cars and drove to the park.
As Lee walked to his truck on the tar lot a stream of thought took him by surprise. He just hated events like this, it required him to be “on”. It was different from his normal states where he correlated to how if a wheel is spinning, being on the inner orbits has a slower angular velocity than being in the orbit edges of the wheel rims. Being “on” with your coworkers at a corporate event required you to be riding the orbit near the ledge. It was anxiety inducing and stressful, it could be applied to any event involving high social effort. Lee had to put on a mask, a mask that pretended to care and said “Oh im just so happy to be here and spend more limited time with you.”
The thought reminded Lee about the Company Town Hall meeting that happened yearly in September. The Town Hall was to close out the old fiscal and bring in the new. It was like a subdued new years eve party and corporate hype fest. Lee felt very much “on” and needed to show face just like everyone else.
Lee slid into the truck and turned the V6 over until the sparks took.
The Town hall was held in the CEO’s building basement auditorium. It was a simple raised stage with velvet green curtains behind with a pine wood podium with a miniature mic sitting on top. A projector off to the side so the CEO could point with a handheld laser pointer at the presentation as the assistant used the arrow key on the connected laptop to move the slide along. Max capacity was 800 so many employees had to line the walls and cram in the back to fit all 1200 who worked on the headquarters campus.
Lee arrived early and sat in the front rows with his team he dragged through the campus corridors and skyway tubular walkways. People poured in from all angles underneath bright red exit sign walkways. Everyone wanted a good glimpse of the CEO, he was known to hide most of the time from public view and even built a house on an island to be closed off during the hard winter months. The chatter in the auditorium was muffled between the foam vector blocks lining the walls around the stage. Two massive speakers above the stage were humming.
The lights dimmed and the CEO appeared to overly excited gull claps from the crowd. He made his opening remarks. “Respect, Injury, and Commitment, these are our company's sacred valves.” The crowd expressed “ohs and ahhs” and nods of understanding.
Lee felt like his Iceberg was being melted under industrial wire heaters with giant balded steel fan blades pushing the hot air. The melting glacier water was captured and funneled into an oversized Kool-Aid container. Floating cubes of sugar and Kool’aid powders were dumped in and stirred with a massive telephone pole. Out in the open ocean, the cogs line up with red solo cups. They don't have faces. The container has a slow pour spigot to fill the cups. They take sips and lick their lips and start to dance. The CEO made a really good Kool-Aid.
The CEO’s presentation ends with rambunctious applause. All Lee could think was “Oh my god all I need to do is hold on, pump and dump stock until the cows come how and get the fuck out of dodge.”
The auditorium assembly calmed down and sat for the 15 minute Q and A section. The usual yearly questions are blurted from the crowd about the annual merit and how inflation will affect premiums on their privatised health care packages.
The CEO, ice cold bobs and weaves to beautiful non answer. He could have been a politician in a precious life. The CEO is held to a fortune 500 rule of constant distraction and misdirection and avoidance to any direct answer about the actual inner working deep in the executive suites of 5 star hotel business meetings.
Only one employee asked a question that caught the attention of the CEO. The employee stands after his raised hand is called on. One of the assistants runs over, tits bouncing heavily in a loose green top to hand over a wireless microphone.
“Has there been any success down in the Mexico plants? I heard that Remy Stemm took the reins as plant director. There were rumors about a major redesign to drive new manufacturing tactics.” The employee said in a slow cadence.
The CEO froze, though already cold, he actually started to form a single bead of sweat on the focal point of his forehead. The news had not yet broken, the company had paid handsomely to cover it up as long as possible. The Mexico plant construction was finished two years prior, with official operation starting last year. It was located in a poor cartel town. The Execs pick the spot for the cheap, almost slave labor front end costs.
The Execs swinged it to the American press that they were providing economic stability and a chance for the town's residents to find work. The land was next to nothing, the wages too.
“I can assure you, The Mexico plant has been doing exceptionally well.” The CEO said. The bead of sweat started to slowly roll down the center of his forehead. An assistant caught sight and walked briskly to execute a rag wipe maneuver that looked like she was fixing the podium microphone. “Remy Stemm, or should I say Father Stemm has made the executive team proud with his valiant, awe inspiring efforts and new way of thinking. Many new state of the art manufacturing methods were trialed and ran under his supervision.”
There were soft murmurs throughout the auditorium. The employees in the front row though they saw a blur of light, it looked almost greyish, and it floated delicately above the CEO’s tall body.
“Very good!” The employee responded. He had a suspicious look, He didn't know why he felt that way, the CEO’s answer was confident and laid out. The employee sat back down and the CEO flipped a switch hidden underneath the podium table top. Giant exhaust fans above the stage hummed and dissipated any trace of the greyish vapor.