After childhood, joy is never pure, but this came close, I thought. Granted, it was only business. The tacky ballroom, decked out for dinner and speeches, was stuffed with stockholders and studded with corporate brass. The charming, ancient company chairman smiled on me like a new grandson-in-law. I had made him at least two buckets of money. My promotion was an acknowledged certainty, endorsed by all and well-deserved, but it wasn’t until they put the stack of new business cards, white and brittle as the board of directors, into my worthy hands at the podium that joy took hold of me, comprised of pride, accomplishment and belonging, for we had triumphed as a team, my team and I, and the speech I had written was about teamwork and teams. The feeling I had was the feeling expressed by “peace on earth, goodwill toward men,” I planned to say.
When making new acquaintances and asked what I do, I always reply “Small manufacturing.” I count on them to ask what it is I make, and when all but the dullards do so, I tell them, “Excuses.” If it gets a laugh, I have a new friend. If it’s a woman who laughs, I try to fall in love with her. There’s good money in telling lies, as our invoices confirm. We tell the biggest whopper of all right there under Services Performed. “Analysis” is what we say we do. I wasn’t thinking about this as I stood squinting in the spotlight to give my speech. I was scanning the vacant table for my team. “They’re history,” said the VP at my shoulder, “Forget ‘em. This is the future.” I asked him what he had told them. “Whatever you tell them I told them,” he told me, “When you fire them.”
Copyright © September 15, 2007 David Hodges
7 comments
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September 15, 2007 at 7:16 pm
briseis
This one was rather depressing, David, but as superbly written as ever. He’s a clever one, your narrator, but a bit too shrewd and cynical for me. He lacks the human touch. And, sadly, he reminds me of many people.
You mean you didn’t believe his teamwork speech? Thanks, Briseis!
–David
September 16, 2007 at 4:59 am
Manictastic
How terrible an ending. Fire the team you are proud of and thought was the reason you got that promotion. Why is business always like in the mafia stories, always shooting your best friend to show you are loyal to the gang. Nicely done, chap —can I call you chap?
I think you just did. Thanks, Manictastic.
–David
September 17, 2007 at 2:35 am
Wizzer
The early lesson in becoming one of the future Board of Directors!
In the words of The Who “meet the new boss, same as the old boss”. Great observation of the corporate world David.
Considering how thoroughly I’ve avoided the corporate world, I’d be surprised if there’s much truth in it. But thanks, wizzer!
–David
September 17, 2007 at 7:37 am
Bulgarian Slivatree
I enjoy your very individual style and your inspirations from just living in this world of work in the main. You will retire one day (or never being a writer,) and wonder where your life has gone.
Thanks for your comment, Martin, and welcome to Very Short Novels!
–David
September 18, 2007 at 7:22 pm
pmousse
Him: “Excuses.”
Me: “Ha!”
Fabulous novel, David.
Well, I set myself up for that one! Um . . . I love you? Thanks, pmousse!
–David
September 20, 2007 at 9:16 am
Anonymous
Oh God! Business is a hard Master.
Hugs, JJ
Thanks, JJ. Can’t believe I never replied to this comment!
–David
September 20, 2007 at 12:15 pm
grantman
and now you know why, it truly is lonely at the top….
grantman
Unless there’s a mountain called Very Short Novels, I’m in no danger of finding out. Thanks, grantman.
–David