The Miracle Girl by Andrew Roe

Author:Andrew Roe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill
Published: 2015-02-12T19:00:50+00:00

12

| John |

THEY GIVE HIM his own cubicle, as well as a computer that’s ready to kick his ass and reduce him to a state of Cro-­Magnon cluelessness. He really doesn’t know much about it . . . them . . . computers, other than indulging in an occasional round of Solitaire or Minesweeper, the Internet still something of an other­worldly mystery to him. But he figures he’ll be able to Lucy Ricardo his way around it all, at least for a week or two, or however long he’ll be here, his latest TempPeople gig, after finishing a forgettable month-long warehouse job, another Monday-­morning first day, which are always the worst, having to memorize all the people’s names and system passwords and also learn the ins and outs and quirks of the copy machine, every time taking a deep breath as he begins the assignment and hoping this time will be better than the last.

After showing him where he’ll be sitting, Ron, the super­visor, in his bland forties, a prolific perspirer who reminds John of a suburbanized David Bowie (the same snaggletooth, the same junkie skinniness, the same intense, accusatory cheekbones, all countered with a white shirt and patterned tie and tan Dockers, very un-­Bowie), ushers him into his office and before John even has a chance to sit down asks how up-­to-­speed his database and 10-­key skills are, and John pauses mightily, deer-­in-­the-­headlights dumb, and finally says, way too late, Uh pretty good, pretty up to speed, wondering what the fuck is 10-­key (database not exactly his area of expertise either). John remains standing while Ron rushes through his duties, what’s expected of him, the company’s policies on sexual harassment, affirmative action, personal hygiene, etc., John retaining nothing much except the overpowering brand-­new smell of the office and Ron’s frequent use of the word copasetic.

According to Ron (“Please call me Ron. That’s just the kind of company this is.”), things are kind of on the quiet side right now, but he’d better enjoy it because relatively soon, once the new promos hit the major TV markets, which would strategically coincide with a rebranded print campaign and a slew of banner ads set to inundate websites large and small, both horizontal and vertical markets (John nodding, still standing, contorting his jaw into a position of what he hoped would be interpreted as understanding and approval), the phones would be ringing off the hook.

John receives the official welcome-­aboard handshake from Ron, who then plays tour guide and introduces him to the wonders of his new workplace, pointing out the essentials (bathroom, kitchen, supply area, copy machine), emphasizing the user-­friendly nature of the floor’s layout and design, finally circling back to John’s minimalist cube. During the time he’d been away in Ron’s office and taking the tour, someone had hung a plastic placard with his name in glaring caps, JOHN VINCENT, like an accusation, a wanted poster without the picture and fine-­print details of his crimes. Attached by Velcro. Meaning that it can be easily removed, one effortless rip, nothing permanent like glue or screws.

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