Steve walked slowly from the office. His brain was a little scrambled and he took it slow. The secretary smiled, “How did it go?”
Steve managed, “I think I got the job.”
The gal Friday nodded, “Of course you did sir.” She handed him a leather envelope embossed with Sabotron’s logo. “This is your compensation package. It outlines salary, including bonus incentives, benefits, sick days, etc. There’s also a non-compete contract and an NDA (non-disclosure agreement).”
******
Steve opened the envelope when he got back to his tiny hovel of an apartment. He shuffled past the NDA and the Non Compete and he breezed over the benefits. Full medical plus dental and eye care. It even covered counseling sessions. Three weeks vacation. Salary: $250,000.
“That couldn’t be right,” he thought. Steve read it again. The number didn’t change. He looked for assistance again. What had he gotten into?
******
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Black Truck
This is my old truck. I'm just trying to figure out how to throw a picture up . . . She's a 1966 Ford F100. Four wheel drive. I suppose there's a story here . . .
More Sabotage soon . . .
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sabotage - a story of futility
It’s funny. When you look back on life and those remarkable moments, those life changing moments. It’s funny because they’re usually so mundane. There’s no theatrical lighting or soundtrack. There’s no fanfare.
There wasn’t any fanfare when your grandfather made it back from Bataan and proposed to grandma and started fifty golden years. There wasn’t any hoopla when your cousin’s wife watched the towers fall and started her own fall into a bottle of Dewar’s. These things just kinda happen.
It was one of those indiscernible moments that found Steve Parker in the fight of his life. Our lives. Proverbial good versus evil.
It was a regular day and Steve had an old fashioned job interview. He wore a plain suit. Blue with shiny buttons, a white button down and a ubiquitous red tie. He took the elevator to the sixty-ninth floor. The interview was set for 11:30 but Steve arrived twenty two minutes early. Punctuality was a virtue. . . or something like that.
The pretty secretary with her prerequisite manicure pointed to a plastic bench where Steve plopped down to wait. He pulled his Blackberry from its holster and quickly checked his email before switching it to vibrate. He checked the time before replacing the PDA. Too early.
He sat and fidgeted for a few minutes. A glance at his watch. Check the email. Suddenly the door to the office opened and a tall brunette woman glided out in a gentle wave of pleats and pearls. Without looking the secretary said, “You can go in now.”
Steve Parker stepped into the office of Richard Franklin, Pres. & CEO of Sabotron Inc. Steve was confident but not overly. To be honest, he was praying as he walked up to the mammoth desk, literally a desk made of mammoth tusks. It was large to boot.
Richard Franklin extended a wiry hand, shook Steve’s and said, “Have a seat Steve.”
Steve sat and looked attentive. (good dog).
Richard gently rubbed the bridge of his nose and then excitedly spouted, “Let me ask you something Steve. I looked at your resume. MBA from Columbia, you seem to have the proper pedigree. The Question is, what do you want from Sabotron?”
Steve looked to the right and then to the left maybe looking for assistance, shrugged and said, “I dunno . . . money.”
Richard Franklin studied Steve fro a moment, smiled and clapped. “Bravo. Smart answer. Did you notice the candidate leaving before you came in? she wanted to change the world. Too many pageants I suspect. Parker, I like the cut of your jib. The job is yours.”
Steve was a little surprised but managed to mumble, “Thanks.”
Richard continued, “What do you know about Sabotron?”
Steve briefly looked for assistance again before answering, “Not much. Only what’s on your website. Sabotron was founded in 1983 and is the leading provider of client services.” (whatever that means).
Richard smiled again “Another great answer. Were you made for this job or what?” He produced, almost magically, a cell phone and flipped it to Steve, “Here’s a new company phone. Do not fail to answer it. 6 a.m. JFK airport. Here’s your ticket. You’ll be heading to the Utica field office for training. The Northeast is yours.”
******
There wasn’t any fanfare when your grandfather made it back from Bataan and proposed to grandma and started fifty golden years. There wasn’t any hoopla when your cousin’s wife watched the towers fall and started her own fall into a bottle of Dewar’s. These things just kinda happen.
It was one of those indiscernible moments that found Steve Parker in the fight of his life. Our lives. Proverbial good versus evil.
It was a regular day and Steve had an old fashioned job interview. He wore a plain suit. Blue with shiny buttons, a white button down and a ubiquitous red tie. He took the elevator to the sixty-ninth floor. The interview was set for 11:30 but Steve arrived twenty two minutes early. Punctuality was a virtue. . . or something like that.
The pretty secretary with her prerequisite manicure pointed to a plastic bench where Steve plopped down to wait. He pulled his Blackberry from its holster and quickly checked his email before switching it to vibrate. He checked the time before replacing the PDA. Too early.
He sat and fidgeted for a few minutes. A glance at his watch. Check the email. Suddenly the door to the office opened and a tall brunette woman glided out in a gentle wave of pleats and pearls. Without looking the secretary said, “You can go in now.”
Steve Parker stepped into the office of Richard Franklin, Pres. & CEO of Sabotron Inc. Steve was confident but not overly. To be honest, he was praying as he walked up to the mammoth desk, literally a desk made of mammoth tusks. It was large to boot.
Richard Franklin extended a wiry hand, shook Steve’s and said, “Have a seat Steve.”
Steve sat and looked attentive. (good dog).
Richard gently rubbed the bridge of his nose and then excitedly spouted, “Let me ask you something Steve. I looked at your resume. MBA from Columbia, you seem to have the proper pedigree. The Question is, what do you want from Sabotron?”
Steve looked to the right and then to the left maybe looking for assistance, shrugged and said, “I dunno . . . money.”
Richard Franklin studied Steve fro a moment, smiled and clapped. “Bravo. Smart answer. Did you notice the candidate leaving before you came in? she wanted to change the world. Too many pageants I suspect. Parker, I like the cut of your jib. The job is yours.”
Steve was a little surprised but managed to mumble, “Thanks.”
Richard continued, “What do you know about Sabotron?”
Steve briefly looked for assistance again before answering, “Not much. Only what’s on your website. Sabotron was founded in 1983 and is the leading provider of client services.” (whatever that means).
Richard smiled again “Another great answer. Were you made for this job or what?” He produced, almost magically, a cell phone and flipped it to Steve, “Here’s a new company phone. Do not fail to answer it. 6 a.m. JFK airport. Here’s your ticket. You’ll be heading to the Utica field office for training. The Northeast is yours.”
******
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