(This is the second installment of the Andrew chronicles; a hapless, comical figure trying to get through life. In the first installment, Diridon Station, Andrew runs into an old flame that he has a hard time remembering. In this story, we see Andrew at his workplace.)
Andrew left the break room after lunch feeling sated and slightly caffeinated then a hand grabbed him and pulled him into an empty office. He was face to face with three of his coworkers.
“Can we trust you?” Sterling demanded.
“Uh, what’s going on?” Andrew wondered.
“We ask the questions here!” Damien barked. “First you must swear not to betray us,”
“But what’s going on?” Andrew asked worriedly.
“I don’t think we can trust him,” Gwen said suspiciously.
“Dammit, you must swear!” Damien ordered. “You don’t want to piss off this one,” he warned as he pointed to Gwen.
“Okay, I swear,” Andy promised hoping to reduce the tension.
The three workers eyed Andrew intently. “I think we can trust him,” Sterling finally said.
“What’s happening?” Andrew finally managed to say.
“So how do you like working here?” Damien asked leadingly.
Andrew thought for a moment. “I can’t complain.”
“Hmmm,” Sterling pondered. “Interesting.”
“He doesn’t complain about anything,” Gwen mocked. “When we got a cake for him for his birthday, he took so long getting to the break room that we ended up eating the entire cake before he showed up. Remember?” she said to Andrew.
“Well, total strangers do walk up to me and tell me that I should lose a few pounds,” Andrew placated as he looked around his waist.
“That’s why we call him No Cake Andy,” Gwen continued.
“Oh,” Sterling said with enlightenedness. “I thought it was because of the hazing incident of ‘05.”
“Guys, I think we need to get back on track here,” Damien advised.
“Of course,” Sterling agreed. “Now to the business at hand.” He placed his hands on his hips.
“We’ve decided to stage a coup,” he announced as he looked directly at Andrew.
“A coup?” Andrew puzzled. “Where?”
“Here!” Damien added. “Aren’t you sick and tired of slaving for Mr. Weatherby?”
“Well, he’s not that bad,” Andrew replied.
“He is a dangerous, out of control demagogue!” Sterling declared.
“A dictator drunk on his own power!” Damien yelled.
“A multi-headed hydra that must be slain!” Gwen rallied.
“Figuratively of course, right?” Andrew queried.
Gwen appeared amused by Andrew’s question. “Of course.”
“So what brought all this on?” Andrew asked sincerely.
“Increased hours!” Sterling began.
“Stagnant wages!” Damien followed.
“Oppressive and uninspired work environment!” Gwen completed.
“But don’t some of those things have to do with the current world economy and are out of the control of Mr. Weatherby?”
“Don’t those things have to do with world economy?” Gwen mimicked sarcastically. “He’s the one in charge, he’s the one that needs to be taken down!”
“Have you thought this through?” Andrew cautioned.
“Yes,” Sterling answered. “With strength in numbers we’ll confront him and he’ll have no choice but to give in to our demands!”
“Which are what?” Andrew wondered. “That he depart into exile like an overthrown junta?”
“That he let’s us sit in on the board meetings,” Sterling answered.
“Oh, I thought you would’ve had a bigger plan than that.”
“Dammit, you have to start somewhere!” Sterling vociferated.
“So here’s the plan,” Damian began conspiratorially. “We’ll all march in together, shoulder to shoulder!”
“That way Weatherby can’t get around us!” Gwen informed.
“Let me finish,” Damian demanded.
“Who died and made you king?” Gwen shot back.
“Let’s stay on point, guys,” Sterling counseled. “Now here’s the plan. We’ll all walk up together. I’ll start in on him with how we have to work too many hours. When I’m done, Damian,” he said to Damian, “you address how we’re all underpaid. And Gwen, finish him off! By expressing how ugly and uninspired the workplace is.”
“What about me?” Andrew wondered.
Sterling grabbed him by the shoulders. “You’re the point man.”
“Of course,” Gwen answered. “You’re shorter than us.”
“You’ll go in for the first attack,” Sterling continued.
“I can’t do that,” Andrew argued. “I don’t want any involvement in this!” He pulled away from Sterling’s grip.
“You’re already involved,” Damian reminded.
“In deep!” Gwen added.
“But this is all your idea!” Andrew protested. “You dragged me in here against my will then told me all about your plan without me asking to know about it!”
“Ha!” Sterling laughed as he placed his hand on Andrew’s shoulder in a fatherly way. “Well you know all about it now.”
“And if I say no?” Andrew queried.
“Then you’ll be going airborne ,” Damian warned menacingly as he nodded his head toward a window.
“We’re on the ground floor,” Andrew reminded.
“It’ll still hurt!” Damian shot back.
* * * * * * *
They all stood forebodingly in the cramped elevator as it rose up through the building. Everyone looked straight ahead without saying anything. Andrew watched the floor number display count upward as his apprehension grew.
“Everybody remember what they’re going to say?” Sterling pierced the silence.
“I make the demand for increased pay,” Damian said importantly.
“I point out what a junk heap this once proud company has become,” Gwen declared.
“Great! And I’ll address his autocratic ways,” Sterling asserted.
“What am I supposed to say?” Andrew asked.
“You provide the backup,” Sterling answered.
“We need a regular person,” Damian elucidated.
Andrew was puzzled. “Aren’t we all equal as employees?”
They all chuckled.
“If it’s just us exceptional people,” Sterling said as he pointed to himself, Damian, and Gwen, “Weatherby will never buy it”
“That’s right,” Gwen agreed. “The three of us are known to be above the fray and able to see the big picture, and that scares Weatherby. But if we bring just a plain, regular employee, he’ll know we have a broad base of support.”
“And I’m just a typical worker?” Andrew pondered.
“So typical that you blend in anywhere,” Damian said.
“That is so true,” Gwen added. “Just a typical, nondescript, boring, bland employee, a person who isn’t remarkable in any way.”
“That’s right,” Sterling concurred. “People may say you’re dull as dishwater, but in this instance your dullness is an advantage.”
“Oh,” Andrew said with realization. “Well, glad I can help.”
The elevator dinged when it reached its floor, and the doors slid open.
“Let’s go,” Sterling ordered and they exited the elevator. Sterling, Damian, and Gwen walked purposefully through a corridor toward Weatherby’s outer office as Andrew kept up. Weatherby’s office grew larger and more daunting as they approached. An ominous looking secretary appeared on the right. She sat her desk like a sentry.
“Is Mr. Weatherby expecting you?” the secretary demanded as they came closer. She glared at them unpenetrably.
“No time to explain!” Sterling replied. “It’s too important for you!”
“Nobody gets past me without an appointment!” The secretary picked up a heavy glass ashtray and threw it at them like a Frisbee. Sterling, Damian, and Gwen dodged out of the way of the spinning object and it struck Andrew on the forehead. He staggered back as pain shot through his head.
“We’ve been hit!” Damian shouted.
“Aw, shit!” the secretary shrieked. “Is that No Cake Andy?”
“Damn right!” Sterling said gleefully, “and his uncle is a high powered lawyer!”
“And we are witnesses!” Gwen chimed in.
Andrew held his head in pain but remained upright. “I think I’ll be okay.”
“We can’t take any chances!” Sterling declared. “You better get a first aid kit stat if you want to save this company from a lawsuit, or worse!”
“You’ll be going to the big house for assault and battery!” Gwen warned.
“You’ll be living Orange Is the New Black!” Damian added.
“Fine, I’ll look for the first aid kit.” The secretary ran off.
They waited until the secretary was out of sight. “Let’s go,” Sterling uttered. They walked up to the door leading to Weatherby’s office. Andrew was still shaking off the pain as he stood behind them.
“Wait,” Damian cautioned, “our point man.”
“That’s right,” Sterling agreed. He grabbed Andrew and placed him in front. “How’s your head?”
“Still hurting, but getting better,” Andrew answered.
“Here, have a Vicodin,” Damian offered. “I always carry these.”
“I don’t think I need a…”
“Take it,” Gwen ordered as she took the pill from Damian and stuck it into Andrew’s mouth. Andrew resisted then ended up swallowing the pill.
A second Vicodin appeared in Damian’s hand. “How about another just in case?”
“Better safe than sorry,” Gwen said as she took second pill and stuck into Andrew’s mouth. It slid down his throat and he started to feel numb.
“Now everybody remember what we’re going to say?” Sterling asked.
“Money,” Damian said.
“Work environment,” Gwen said.
“And I address the dictatorial nature of this workplace,” Sterling said.
“What am I doing here?” Andrew asked as he started to feel woozy.
“Backup and moral support,” Damian reminded.
“You’re everyman, remember?” Gwen reminded further.
“But…how do I?” Andrew’s mind started to become foggy.
“No time to answer that,” Sterling said as he pushed the door open. The spacious office was wood paneled and foreboding. The half open vertical Levolor blinds let in just enough light to show Weatherby’s face in half light and half darkness, like a heavy in a film noir. Andrew felt a shove push him forward into the lair.
“What the hell do you want?” Weatherby glowered.
“Uh, well sir.” Andrew looked behind him, and Sterling told him to say something. His impaired mind struggled to remember something to say. “I am here,” he finally began, “because I was enlisted to express grievances that some employees may have.”
“Are you the ringleader?” Weatherby accused.
“No, sir, I’m a…” Andrew struggled, and looked behind him again for an answer.
“I bet you are!” Weatherby reiterated.
“A concerned worker!” Sterling suddenly blurted and stepped in front of Andrew. “You see, Andrew here typifies the average worker who feel, how shall I say, oppressed.”
“Oppressed?” Weatherby said with shock. “This isn’t a banana republic!”
“Of course not, sir,” Sterling relented. “We live in a democratic state.”
“This isn’t a democracy!” Weatherby continued. “The only people who get a vote are the board
of directors! The rest of you are plebes who are damn lucky to have a job!”
“Of course, sir,” Damian agreed as he stepped in front of Andrew and next to Sterling. “It’s just
that lots of people are struggling, and a modest increase in pay would be very helpful. Andrew here
would like to visit his aunt in the old country, but he can’t afford to because he just makes enough to pay for his rent and bare sustenance.” Andrew tried to remember if he had an aunt somewhere in another country. “He still eats Top Ramen, it’s sad.”
“Well there’s nothing I’d like more than to give all you bums a raise,” Weatherby began as he stood up and emerged from behind his large oak desk, “But there are factors that have to do with the world economy, and are totally out of my hands! Did you ever consider that?”
“Yes, sir, that’s a good point,” Gwen agreed.
“Of course it is, I came up with it!” Weatherby proclaimed. “And what’s your beef?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about improving the overall work environment,” Gwen replied. “You know, a new coat of paint, maybe some artwork, things that would inspire the employees.”
“Artwork?” Weatherby blasted. “This isn’t a gallery!”
“No, sir, it isn’t,” Gwen concurred.
“And if you want inspiration think about your next paycheck!” Weatherby took note of Andrew’s intoxicated appearance. “What’s your problem?”
“He had a splitting headache so he took some pain pills,” Sterling jumped in.
“An agitator and a hophead,” Weatherby said accusingly. “I should’ve known!”
“He only does it out of medical necessity, sir,” Damian reassured. “We didn’t know he had taken too many.”
Andrew swayed as he tried to remain upright.
“I’ll make it simple,” Weatherby condescended, “No raises, no interior decorating, and no
democratic reforms. Now you four idiots get back to work before I fire your asses!”
* * * * * * *
Sterling, Damian, and Gwen silently exited the elevator at the ground floor as Andrew staggered along behind them. They stopped at their maze of cubicles and hesitated before entering.
“We tried,” Sterling finally said.
“Maybe we needed a better plan,” Damian suggested.
“We should’ve got more people involved,” Gwen said.
“Well, these things take time,” Andrew struggled to get out from his still narcosis fogged mind. “The fight for workplace equality is a long one, in which people had to overcome a lot of defeats to achieve their victories. And the struggle continues to this day.” Andrew was impressed that he was able to say all that despite his temporary impairment.
“If you don’t mind, Andy, we’d like to discuss this without you,” Sterling requested.
“But don’t you need more people?” Andrew asked feeling suddenly puzzled.
“Yes, but we just can’t trust you anymore,” Sterling answered.
“I have to agree with Sterling,” Damian said.
“Yeah,” Gwen agreed, “it was a mistake to take you in.”
“Because,” Sterling began, “you’re an agitator.”
“And a druggie,” Damian reminded.
©2017 Robert Kirkendall