Slum Enterprise - Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
Lee shuts off his truck in the Mory Park lot. It was late afternoon now, the sun had embarked on the downward descent towards the horizon line. The parking lot was filled with familiar vehicles his department co-workers drove in. The park is filled with old white oaks.
The main picnic event area was held in the park's center gazebo. Underneath were 25 extra long picnic tables covered in green plastic table sheets. Paper plates, plastic sporks and red solo cups were all neatly organized on them. The gazebo had an enclosed building off to the north side that housed the bathroom stalls.
To the west of the picnic tables was the food pick up area. A single file line setup that had the main course. Charred hamburgers and brat cooked by yours truly, Mr Joe Fisher on an oversized black soot cover park grill which held 20 pounds of charcoal at a time making it impossible to achieve temperature control. Plumes of grill smoke from the burning coals and grease catching into flames as it dripped could be seen about 50 ft east from the gazebo. One of Lee’s techs was tasked to bring the mounds of meat back over to the feeding line in large aluminum disposable troughs. Lee was hungry so he lined up with employees from all the different labs through the company headquarters campus.
After the main meat course with a cheap floppy buns disintegrating, Lee starts to pile cole slow, mac and cheese, and chips onto his flimsy paper plate. A different table was set up with the desert options; cakes, cookies, and homemade swiss rolls.
The birds were flying rampant across the sky and around the gazebo, they would hop from the branches of one White Oak to another. Black birds, scores of them. Lee, as he walked to sit at one of the green covered picnic tables he noticed that they all flew in massive packs taking down loose or dying branches, throwing off acorns to the ground rodents. They covered the sky when they traversed to the next tree. The birds danced and fluttered gracefully, swooping, faltering with a sky brake, diving and spreading their wings again to catch the air and shoot themselves back higher into the sky. Lee thought there could have been at least a thousand of them all throughout the park completing the fall cleaning of the park's trees.
“Hey Lee, are you bird watcher now, here I may have some spare binoculars in my car,” Murphy yells sarcastically. “Come on, let's eat, sit here.” Murphy waves his hand like he is guiding a fighter jet back onto an aircraft carrier. It was a past life.
“Okay, okay im coming, hold your horses.” Lee changes his focus from the birds and puts on an invisible mask and forces a smile back over at Murphy. He sits next to him while Lee’s other team members start to occupy the vacant seats. He immediately starts to attack his burger, it tastes like a leather shoe strap but Lee wasn't known to be picky with free food. Lee and Murphy were sitting at one end of the table, at the other end a conversation was beginning to get into full swing.
“Sometimes the grill gets too hot and chars the meat. I've had a lot of practice. Me and my wife just bought a new super blackhole grill.”
“What the hell is that?” one of the employees said.
“Why, it's the newest in grilling tech, a black membrane that splits space and time and cooks the food to the desired temperature in the 5th dimension. You don't even see the food, it just sucks it right in and then spits it back out. I stand there with tongs in my catchers hand, you never know which direction the hunk of meat will get launched. Luckily, I was a goalie in highschool, sometimes I bring out my pads if I'm cooking for a large party.”
“Wait, so they have 5th dimension quantum technologies and decided that their best use for it was perfect grilling? Why not get a human race benefit out of it, if it can cook food, it could surely boil water and turn a turbine into a power plant.”
“I don't know, there must be no money in that, if you have a new technology in this society you need to make a profit somehow.” The employee gauffed.
Another employee joined in. “Wow, I didn't know the tech was ready for scaling into full product lines. Last I read it was only stable in controlled lab environments.” The newly entered employee looks at the two others in suspicion.
“Well maybe do some research, what articles are you reading? Maybe in 10 years you'll be able to afford one yourself.” The black hole grill owner said.
“Now, knock it off,” the department director said. Matthew Jacobson was just sitting down. “Oh god why this table,” Lee thought.
“We are here to celebrate this department's successes, it's a way to say thank you, no back talk with each other, be respectful, remember the company values and slogan." Matthew said with wide eyes and a toothy smile. The gust of winds swinging under the gazebo did not affect Mattew, his head cut smoothly with aerodynamic excellence. The bickering employees stopped talking and put their face back down to their plates and started working on the brats.
“The fiscal was hard, the projects were never ending, but please eat the meat, eat the sides, take some sweets home to the kids. On behalf of the shareholders, we want to say thank you for making us so much money… I mean bringing value to the company in which we are able to support your lifestyles with the above average pay.” Matthew said in a presentation tone. Lee didn't like to drink the Kool-aid.
Joe Fisher, done with grill duty, saw Matthew sitting with Lee’s techs and began to walk over with a plate full of burgers. He made something called the Jazz Quintet.
“It's a five piece burger stack with the works, I like to drizzle it with brown A1 steak sauce to simulate that the Quintet has a serious heroine problem.” Joe Fisher explained while sitting down.
There was a single seat at the end of the table near Matthew and Joe. Another senior manager from a different lab, walked over and sat. He had overheard about the Jazz Quintet.
“I don't eat meat anymore, the vegetarian lifestyle has really made a difference.” The senior manager proclaimed. “Its been about a year now since meat has tainted these lips.”
Joe Fisher looked sadly down at his Jazz Quintet and then at his round flabby gut that seemed to be much bigger than yesterday.
“I don't think I could ever…” Joe responded and picked up the burger and unhinged his jaw to bite down. A1 sauce was smeared all over his face. “Look, im onna heroin bing, better call the record company up, I'm feeling a spiritual solo brewing from deep within me.”
Joe had no sense of music or the jazz culture. Lee always didn't trust people who didn't listen to music or said “Oh, anything is good, I don't really mind.” Yet another reason to dislike Joe, though at this point it was more of a personal problem for Lee.
“Its an interesting story actually,” the vegetable plated senior manager said. “A bad Hibachi trip did me in. One rogue shrimp was flung into my mouth by a unsanitized stainless steel spatula from across the restaurant. Quite an impressive throw to be honest, but from there the shits started.”
Lee listened with faint interest from the other side of the table. The cacophony of creaky jaws chewing on leather meat strips added to the ambiance of the manager's story. The birds finished on one of the White oaks and began to flock to the next one. Red squirrels chattered their warning calls, seemingly very annoyed that acorns were being dropped all around them. Other department lab employees brought their frisbee disk golf sets and were playing in the valley right off the parking lot and paved trail that led down into the creek area.
“It was fast,I couldn't stop sitting for 2 hours after I chewed and swallowed that shrimp. Since then I haven't touched fish or mammal meat.” The manager really wanted to express his redeeming virtues against the evils of meat farming, a silent protest for the people who have lost their lives from E coli infections. The methane produced from cow farms and the slimy sludge byproduct from the Alaskan fish farms vanished from his memory. The manager had a clear consciousness and wanted to portray his superiority to all that would listen. He was liberated and on paper (scientifically) healthy in the grand scheme. His voice grew louder to project his compassion to his monumental change of the inner self. The Execs were spotted driving in black SUVs over at the lot.
As the pretentious senior manager had a small crowd of listeners. The Execs now under the gazebo with bags of lobster and walleye sandwiches from a high class downtown restaurant heard the vocal projections of the senior manager.
The Execs felt like there was a traitor amongst them. The attention and spotlight wasn't on them, they would have to intervene to remind everyone who is boss and that they are a prime example of how you can become if you play your cards right in the game that is the Life System.
“Ive been feeling so much better, no more meat sweats like Joe over there.” Joe was swaying back and forth now holding his stomach. “No more 4 day locked bowels. Now, I'm in and out of the office bathroom in 5 minutes flat. All the dietary info from my diet can be found on my blog website.”
Suddenly the senior manager had a feeling of a dark presence behind him. A black suited Exec, tall and skinny, was standing over his shoulder. The employees stopped looking at the manager and peered up to meet his gaze. The manager noticed that attention was diverted and turned around to meet the Execs face with a cold smile. The Exec was the department Vice President.
VP's were less rare to spot than the CEO, they usually would only be seen a handful times a year by the lower level employees. 3 piece black suit freshly dry cleaned. He smelled of fresh baby powder. His skin was smooth and dry. Every VP had to be between 6’2 and 6’4. The CEO was 6 '6 and never allowed VP’s to be taller than himself.
“Im a vegan myself,” the VP said. There was a silent pause from everyone. Nobody knew what to say. Lee and a few employees from his team provided a small sniffling laugh that broke the autumn air tension. Toxins and and stress hormones began to pour from the vegetarian senior manager.
“Oh, that's wonderful, how long has it been?” The manager said.
“15 years. It's been an incredible journey. I've lost all my body fat, it has been around 2% since my last physical.”
“Amazing to hear, I'm in awe of your accomplishments, I've just started the journey myself, maybe one day I'll take the leap and join on the vegan path.” The manager said in a much more tame voice. “What made you stop eating all animal products?” The manager asked, he felt hurt that he had been shown up in front of the lab employees.
“I'm glad you asked, it was at the top steak house in New York, dinner with potential customers, the CEO and executive leadership all dined together at a big table.” the VP looked into the air with a condescending aura around him.
“As usual, I ordered a prime cut, rare of course. Once it was laid in front of me by the well trained waiter, I asked him for some ketchup. I never have a steak without ketchup. The waiter stopped and just stared at me with a blank expression, he seemed to be appalled by my ask. I didn't see the problem, I've been having ketchup on my steak since I was a young lad. Ay, I remember being a young lad, sitting on my fathers lap, another important man in his time you know. Oh how I miss him.”
“Non the less, the waiter refused my request. Now… I wasn't going to have my request denied in front of the CEO, my team and the potential buyers, I couldn't allow any signs of weakness. I said to the waiter… THE MEAT INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX HAS LOST ANOTHER VALUED CUSTOMER. MY CONSUMPTION WILL NO LONGER LEND ITSELF TO THE LURE OF RED MEAT, ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DRIVE A MAN DOWN THIS ROAD? ASK YOURSELF THIS, DO YOU WANT TO DRIVE A SANE SUCCESSFUL MAN TO ROAD OF CHANGING PALLET TO VEGETARISIM…OR EVEN WORSE, VEGANINISM?"
The VP was laying out the ultimatum for all to see, no one could tell him what to do, this was America for christ sakes. He went on to explain to the manager and a few listening techs that the steak house policy banned the use of sauces, even A1. His vitality was shaken, never in his life had someone stood against his wishes. He believed his wish was more obtainable and had a greater “right” than people crawling in the lower classes. It wasn't his fault that he had the case of silver spoons underneath his crib.
Since the VP held power and money in the materialistic Life System controlled world, since he was able to lobby at the state's capital to lower taxes on fortune 500 corporations, since he had VIP passes at downtown dance clubs, baseball and football suites, since his stock portfolio would give a poor person a heart attack if they laid eyes on it. The VP felt he had every right to plow through inconvenience and step on the heads of the lower echelons of the human race that he thought very little of. Besides, the VP could barely bring himself to this imprudent picnic, but he had to put on appearances.
The VP internally starts to reflect on the “good ol days.” The American had become soft, he didn't recognize it anymore as he watched news on the oversized T.V screens in his living room. The feeling of silk robes against his skin and a personal barista made drink wasn't enough to make him feel like he was completely in control of his destiny. “The lower classes had it so easy,” the VP thought.
He thought of them as freeloaders off of people like himself. The lower classes are lazy and get government handouts to go spend on pointless vices instead of investing and press ironing a suit for that job interview. The safety nets ingrained into government policy did not allow the lower to suffer an untimely demise. Crime was out of control, teachers didn't beat the kids in class with meter sticks, young boys would cherry boom the toilet bathrooms as an act of revenge. The VP hasn't felt the magic of life in some time.
The mini crowd looked and saw that he was deep in thought and went back to their melancholy meal. The VP’s mind was overpowered with nostalgia, he had heard that this could be considered a medical mental problem if he entertained the nostalgia too long, but it was overpowering and potent. He missed the world he knew and loved, he had to have control and he had to make it as a big business man, just like his father. He wanted to mold the world like a ball of soft clay and build intricate arch structures that would intertwine and have critics review it under white spotlops in a dim art hall while they nod their head with their hands resting on their chin. The critics would “feel” something, the archy clay web of structure painted a spectrum of colors would provoke the critic to think and say, “boy, we sure have something here now do we,” and look left and right to his constituents while they have tears in their eyes and start clawing at their blazer inside coat pockets for their thick check books so they can bid to take it home to their little museum that they built with the same cold white spot light in a dim basement room that smelt of burnt dust from the floor heaters.
Tears swelled in the VP’s eyes. Murphy leaned over to Lee and whispered, “What's wrong with that guy?”
The senior manager taking the brunt of the VP's attention looked uncomfortable and broke the tension and said “What an awe inspiring story. It's great another open minded individual such as yourself stepped away from the meat industrial complex. I suggest dropping any stocks in the meat markets. Health is in, rotting the body away is out, all the hip Execs are doing it.”
The VP shot a face of disbelief and disgust, a lower tier pleb trying to give him advice made him angry and cringe violently. “They had nothing in common,” the VP thought.
He was born into class, pride, and had the god given right to conquer. The VP was sure the senior manager had to crawl his way up and came from a lower middle class family where the parents had to share a shit box car.
Lee knew what the VP was thinking, he saw the face of complete dismissal. The senior manager was on the hit list now for next layoff season. The Execs and VP were the company, not the common cog in the machine. The Execs offered the stakeholder clear value and money flows into swiss bank accounts.
The Execs had a separate ritual for initiation. A very secret society only few know about. The stakeholders would surround the new pledge kneeling on the altar with a 15 century year old bible and a green dyed wine in a miniature goblet.
The stakeholders surround the exec in green robes lined with emeralds on the trim of the arms and v-shape neck. A Loving cup of green dyed wine was passed around and the kneeling pledge was told to drink from the goblet signifying that he was now “one of us.” The cloaked group would extend their arms and mimic invisible force fields protruding from their extended fingers onto the Exec and chant satanic things in Latin.
The bible would begin to float from the center altar only lit by thick dripping white wax candles. A hired assistant hid in the HVAC duct above the altar, reeling the fishing pole with the thin filament line connecting to the bible below. The new Exec would for a split second believe what he was seeing. The tradition was passed down from the generations.
The senior lab manager would never know this world, neither would Lee, and certainly not the lab techs under him.
Lee had enough of the pointless egotistical competition between the VP and manager. By the looks of it was clearly an uncontested sweep. The VP said he goodbyes, Joe fisher was now laying under the table rolling around in pain clutching his torso, Matthew looked furiously at the senior manager and shook his head and left to grab a drink form the styrofoam cooler near the desert table. Lee swallowed his last bite of charred burger and left the table saying quite goodbyes and nodding his head at the techs.
As Lee walked back to the truck over in the lot, he turned around to capture the picture of suppressed dreams and ambitions eating rotten food all with clown masks on, under a brown dark gazebo full of green. It looked like a nuclear bunker's organic farming room.
Pocket screens filled the awkward silence, nobody knew when it was respectable to leave and not get in trouble, Lee stopped caring a long time ago.
The pocket screens with internet browsers opened swamped the cogs with instant overstimulation like a bolt of lighting, nobody seemed to be talking to one another.
The news articles lined vertically on the bright screens:
“Daylight saving time-clocks are set to fall back earlier this year due to a new law proposed.”
“Major manufacturers of goods officially pull the plug on popular products.”
“Trucking company on the road for 40 years filed for chapter 11 bankruptcy.”
“Famous New York Steak House's best selling steak isn't Filet Mignon or New York Strip, it's a new ketchup infused deliciously."
“University workers walk off the job, important services halted, students resort to violent protest, what would MLK think?”
“Click here to see the world's best Bourbon."
“New 2026 cars rolling off the lots, going fast, how to get yours with limited ass fucking.”
“13 Anti-Inflammatory snacks that help combat meat sweats.”
“Lottery announces lucky new winners, new requirement forces them to spend 90% of winnings back at the casino.”
“The future of the stock exchange, boom or bust?”
“Carbon deposits in coastal wetlands, how will Exxon Mobile extract and burn for green energy.”
“Astromomers confirm a wandering black hole will the suck the earth from existence in 3 billion years, see the quantum computer simulation 25 years in the making.”
“New apocalypse guidelines, are you ready for the next rapture?”
“Mammals share ancient brain mechanisms for baby talk recognition.”
“Political activists killing suspect caught, white or black, left or right, we dont know but please assume its your worst nightmare that fits your personal agenda on how you perceive the reality. Argue with a stranger online while threatening to fire bomb their house because their opinions differ.”
“The coming struggle in America, how to hold on for dear life.”
“Health impacts of micro plastics, they settle in your balls and cause autism.
“Stone age Atlantis, 10,000 year old settlements found beneath Danish seas.”
“Rare birds found in your neighborhood."
Lee starts his truck and speeds away, back to his home in the 1st ring suburbs. “The news is counter intuitive indulgence”, he thinks. “If everything is news, nothing is news.”