Sell Out II

No One – Alicia Keys

* I really enjoy driving on the empty roads after midnight. Just me and the road and the radio. I love it. Unfortunately, I have developed a nasty speeding habit. Especially when I’m listening to a song like Stronger. I’ll just be cruising along, listening to that damn Bubbly song (already the most overplayed song of the year) and then I’ll find a station with Stronger on it and I’m suddenly going 30 over the speed limit and weaving in and out of lanes. It simply cannot be helped. That song always seemed to be missing something for me and now I know what it was: an element of danger.

* Ever since I started high school I always wanted to get a job at the mall. Ever since I first saw The Office, I’ve wanted to work in an office building. Gemma Communications is situated in an office inside of the mall. Verily, dreams do come true.

* To further explain my job, I’m required to decide whether one of our agents managed to successfully make a sale or not and then whether the customer’s information was properly verified. The other day, I had one call end with the customer saying that she didn’t have time to verify her info because her water just broke. How should I be logging that exactly? A week later, another customer asked if the agent could hurry up because she was having a baby. Our timing is impeccable.

I’ve also realized that there’s lots of room for interpretation when deciding whether I should hold a sale or not, especially when the agents take liberties with the script. One agent said that the customer would be happy AND delighted with their credit card insurance. “Happy” was in the script, but not delighted. I’m not sure that’s the sort of thing we can legally guarantee.

* I haven’t gotten around to socializing yet. My job is to listen to phone calls, not my coworkers. During my lunch, I saw a couple of coworkers in the food court and I just breezed right by them. The funny thing is that one of them asked me later if I’d taken my lunch yet. See how I move around undetected? I’m like Matt Murdock with that shit. I’m right next to you and you don’t even know it.

Actually, I do talk a little with this girl who sits next to me named Andrea. She helps me out with whatever small questions I have when I don’t feel like bringing it up with my supervisor. Her brother, Derrick, is a telemarketer for Gemma so I get to listen to his calls every now and then. There was this really creepy one where it sounded like this guy was flirting with him. First he was like, “Where are you from? Oh, Guyana. That’s in South America, right? I bet people don’t know that.” It sounded like the customer was trying to impress him. But then he started asking him his name and how old he was and making cheesy jokes. Still, I dismissed it as idle chatter. Then he, er, jokingly said “Are you going to give me a kiss on the lips?” I’d like to explain the context that that was said in, but it wouldn’t make it seem any less inappropriate or perverse. So I’m going to leave you with that. I let Andrea listen in and we had a good laugh about it.

* Another fun part of work is all the names I see everyday. That doesn’t sound too exciting, but I was excited to know there’s someone named “Mamadou Sow” out there. That sounds like either the best or the most disappointing NBA centre ever. Also, there was a guy named Jeffrey Joy. What are the chances that he’s just the meanest, most irritated guy in the world? Pretty high, right? Then there are the bizarre: Daniel Potlog. John M Whynot. Ken Cosmos. Gerald G Merlin. I just found new names for my fists. Bonus porn name: Ashley Playfair. I feel like Jack Horner in Boogie Nights. Those are great names!

* Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m kind of stalking the girl who works at the Budget Shoe Warehouse a couple of floors down. A little bit. She’s not that hot, I’m just bored. She might have seen me looking down a couple of times, but how does she know what I’m looking at? I was watching her talk to this guy, who may or may not have been friends with her. It was certainly not her boyfriend as she ended the encounter with a cordial handshake. Hmm…a potential rival? Maybe she already has a boyfriend so he got blown off? Maybe she doesn’t want to meet someone while she’s at work. All important things to consider.

* There’s a washroom on the first floor that has the usual automatic amenities. You’ve got your sink and you’ve got your hand dryer and you’ve got your urinals, but there’s also an automatic soap dispenser. This is new to me. You simply hover your hand under it and a usable amount of liquid soap is squirted out. It evokes the feeling of someone ejaculating into the palm of my hand. Not that I would know what that is like. Yes I do.

I also witnessed a drug exchange in that same washroom. I’d like to think that it wasn’t a deal per se, but rather one brotha helpin’ another brotha get his weed on free of charge.

* Now that I have access to the e-mail system, I’m privy to the dialogues shared by the top dogs in the company. It is less than thrilling. One supervisor will e-mail another supervisor with a problem, then the second supervisor will react defensively and accuse the first supervisor of incompetence. Supervisor One will then respond in kind and so on and so forth for the next hour or so. With each e-mail, there is an increasing level of aggravation as indicated by the exclamation points which seem to spawn exponentially.

* The one really terrible thing about having a job again? I miss Adriana. I really, really miss her. I hate allowing anyone to have that kind of…hold over me, but she definitely does. Dragging myself into work every day just isn’t the same when I don’t have that reason, that real reason for being there. I swear, I stayed an extra year at that place just because I couldn’t imagine not seeing her regularly. It is incredible how much you can enjoy being around someone even though your relationship can only exist in the work atmosphere, which is so naturally unpleasant. I’m gonna stop now.

Who’s that?!?
Nobody.
Don’t lie to me, Jack. I’ve had plenty of women mad at me the morning after. Just don’t let her light your sneakers on fire in the bathtub.
She would never do that Tracy. She’s a very special woman.
So then what’s the problem?
Well, we’re just on opposite sides of a feud.
Oh, I get it. Romeo and Juliet. Capulets and Romulans. Mmm hm. I been there. I’m black, she’s white. I’m black, she’s light-skinned black. I’m black, she’s seventeen! Listen, if she’s your soulmate you go for it.
Tracy, I don’t believe in soulmates. I work too hard to get where I am to sacrifice it for some woman. I don’t care if she is beautiful, brilliant and she does it like her dad’s a minister.