Things\r\nI've Seen & Heard\r\nAuthor: Stephen\r\nDeVoy\r\n<\/p>
This is not really a short story. It's just a sting of memories of\r\nevents that really happened. I was standing in line at a pharmacy a few\r\ndays ago, waiting for a prescription to be filled, when I overheard a series of\r\nconversations that reminded me much of experiences in my own life. I\r\ndidn't hear the whole of these conversations, because the woman waiting in line\r\nwas on a cell phone. I only heard her part of the conversations.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Her voice was horse. She looked very ill. She was young. \r\nDuring her first conversation she called her office, explaining that she had\r\njust been to the doctor and was very sick. Her doctor instructed her to\r\nrest. Her office replied insisting that she come into work. From\r\nwhat I could gather, she was involved in some kind of sales job. She\r\nargued a bit, explaining that unless she rested she would get sicker and then\r\nshe would miss even more work. Her answers indicated that they questioned\r\njust how it was that she got sick, just what was it that she was doing during\r\nher free time that could cause her to become sick. The woman was aghast at\r\nthe line of questioning, stressed out and I can confirm, very sick, for after\r\nthe conversation she continued to cough and sniffle while waiting for her\r\nprescription to be filled.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Next, she called her mother. Crying into the telephone she explained\r\nhow she was being forced to go to work, how they also reminded her that 2\/3 of\r\nher earnings was commission so, if she didn't show up, at the very most she\r\nwould earn 1\/3 of her normal earnings, that is, if they didn't fire her. \r\nShe went on and on with her mother about how pathetic is was that they felt they\r\nowned her even during her time off, insisting an explanation for how she got\r\nsick.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I've seen this situation before. I've been in this situation. \r\nI remember back in 1995 suffering from a sever case of pneumonia. I came\r\ndown with pneumonia by getting stuck out in the snow on the road during a\r\nvacation in British Colombia. It was January and I was snowed in. \r\nWhen I returned to Los Angeles, I found myself sick. Despite this, I had\r\nto go to work. Driving to work in the morning, I would cough until I\r\nnearly passed out from the lack of oxygen, while driving. At work, I\r\nworked about 15 hours per day trying to meet an unreasonable deadline. \r\nDuring a few 15 minute breaks, I'd take a snooze on the couch only to be chided\r\nfor snoring - note that I was working 15 hours per day with pneumonia. The\r\njob was a temporary position - six months in duration.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I finished the project on time and did a great job. Since it was a\r\ntemporary position, finishing the job meant ending my employment. I found\r\nanother job immediately and had to leave the temporary job one day early to\r\naccept the new job (yes, I finished all of my work). Can you believe this\r\npissed off the temporary employer? Not only did I finish their project, I\r\nfinished it early and they wanted me to turn down a job because they expected me\r\nto work ONE MORE DAY?<\/b><\/p>\r\n
What I'm getting at is that this is what America is all about. I\r\nknow many refugees from other countries: Russia, Cuba, Romania, Vietnam - they\r\nall tell me how lucky we are and they defend the \"American\r\nDream.\" I suppose that if you're brought up in a nightmare all of\r\nthis looks pretty good, but as far as I'm concerned the American Dream is a\r\nshit-poor excuse for a reason to live for all we end up with is poor health,\r\nstress, no dignity and, in the end, a pile of debt.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Thinking about this woman caused me to think about the many experiences\r\nI've had over my life as a worker. The first full-time job I had was with\r\na bank when I was in college. I worked as a teller. Right after\r\ntraining, the \"big boss\" at the bank's main office, the one in charge\r\nof all tellers, told me that he had selected me to work at the Wellesley-Hills\r\nbranch in Wellesley, Massachusetts. Wellesley is a very wealthy\r\ntown. This boss remarked, \"don't let me down, Wellesley is where 'the\r\nbeautiful people' live.\" He asked me if I understood what he\r\nmeant. Yeah, I did. He meant that people like me who come from\r\nmiddle class or poor towns are shit.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I was treated like shit in Wellesley. I remember this woman, the\r\nwife of the owner of a car dealer, coming in one day, slamming down a wad of\r\ncash, and telling me she wanted 10 dimes, eight quarters and two nickels. \r\nI was a bit confused by her request and asked her, \"OK, so you want to use\r\nthree dollars and ten cents of this for change, what do you want to do with the\r\nrest?\" She looked at me with extreme anger and asked, \"What are\r\nyou, fucking stupid? I want 10 roles of dimes, eight roles of quarters and\r\ntwo roles of nickels.\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I've never been good at handling disrespect, so I got a bit upset, looked\r\nat her and said, \"Look, I am not stupid. Let me show you\r\nsomething.\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I pulled out a dime and a roll of dimes and I placed the two on the\r\ncounter before her. I pulled out a quarter and a roll of quarters and then\r\na nickel and a roll of nickels, doing the same. I pointed to the dime and\r\nI said, \"Do you see this here? This is a dime.\" Then I\r\npointed to the roll of dimes and said, \"Do you see this here? This is\r\na roll of dimes.\" I repeated this for the quarters and the nickels,\r\nadding, \"Please note, what distinguishes individual coins from rolls of\r\ncoins is that the latter are contained within rolls, thus the word\r\n\"roll.\" Needless to say, I was without work a short time later,\r\nbut that was good because I refocused my energy on school and earned my degree,\r\nthereby not needing to be a teller again.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
Before I move on, however, I'd like to mention another thing about this\r\nboss at the bank. I believe his name was \"Greenberg.\" Mr.\r\nGreenberg had a habit of straightening my tie. That's right, without even\r\nasking permission he'd grab my tie, straighten it out and suggest that I learn\r\nto do a better job at tying it. Now, on the street if someone grabbed my\r\ntie I'd break their face. The only reason Mr. Greenberg's face did not get\r\nbroken is because he was the boss. However, in a just world, someone would\r\nbreak his face and it is my hope that someone, at some time, did break his face.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
After this job, I worked part-time for the father of my girlfriend in the\r\nshipping office of a corporation. There was this older guy working with\r\nme, close to retirement. He had a photo of his son on the desk. His\r\nson was a marine and this man was very proud of him. He worked as hard as\r\nhe could and kept talking with me about how he was looking forward to\r\nretirement. His pension would become available in one more month. He\r\nhad been with the company for about 30 years and did not imagine that anything\r\nwould change within the next month. A couple of days before his pension\r\nwas to become vested, my girlfriend's father fired him for being lazy. \r\nRight after he fired him, my girlfriend's father gloated about how much money he\r\nhad saved the company be preventing the guy from getting his pension. \r\nWelcome to fucking America.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I went to work for the Department of the Navy right after\r\ngraduation. I liked the job. It was interesting. What I didn't\r\nlike was the paranoia around me. I had a secret clearance. We worked\r\non a military base. Our telephones were tapped. U.S. Government\r\nspies would show up at bars when I was drinking and start asking me about my job\r\n- very specific questions that indicated that they were probing me. \r\nFortunately, I knew the deal.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
While working for the DoD, I and many other workers were invited to a\r\npresentation billed as a chance to listen to a Soviet sub-captain talk about the\r\nSoviet view of the cold war. We were told he was for real. I had\r\nstudied Russian in the University and suspected quickly that the guy was a\r\nfake. He showed us Soviet Propaganda films. Next, American\r\npropaganda films were shown, not as propaganda but as documentaries, attempting\r\nto dehumanize the Russian people, showing old and ugly grandmothers waiting in\r\nline to by potatoes, with background music from the Beatles playing, \"Well\r\nthose Ukraine girls really knock me out, they leave the West behind...\"<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I found this appalling. It angered me. I asked the guy on\r\nstage if he was really a Russian or was he, as I suspected, an actor pretending\r\nto be a Russian? He confirmed the latter. The whole thing was a big\r\nlie and their goal was to get us to hate the enemy. I wrote about this in\r\nmy weekly report, denouncing them for this bullshit. I quit a short while\r\nlater, specifying my belief that \"War is Obsolete\" as the reason for\r\nquitting. When I left, they gave me a picture of a Russian sub as a token\r\nto remember them by.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
I've seen many things in my career. I've seen bosses instruct\r\nworkers to interfere with the work of other workers in an effort to make them\r\nfail at their jobs and justify their dismissal. I've seen positions\r\n\"eliminated\" just to get rid of someone before they became vested or\r\nentitled to benefits only to recreate the position after the person was gone a\r\nfew months. I've seen people set up in traps, falsely blamed for things\r\nthey didn't do and then fired. I myself have been anonymously stalked\r\nonline by an ex-employer.<\/b><\/p>\r\n
And so, I sit here wondering why we call ourselves free and lucky to be\r\nAmericans? We work more hours per year than other industrialized\r\nnations. We have far less vacation time than others. We have no\r\nguarantee of healthcare or even fairness. We get fired from our jobs for\r\nour political views or life styles. It seems that if there is any freedom\r\nhere at all, it is in the hands of corporations and not of the people. We\r\nare a nation ruled by corporate executives. Given this horrible, unjust\r\nand stifling system, why don't we revolt? Will we always believe that just\r\nbecause it is worse somewhere else we are, by definition, lucky? Does our\r\nluck run out only when we are at the very bottom of the barrel and in\r\nchains? I don't know about you, but I expect more out of life than\r\nthis. Perhaps you should too.<\/b><\/p>\r\n\n","contact":"","link":"","address":"","phone":"","parent_id":0,"mime_type":"text\/html","summary":"From the short stories collection.","numcomment":0,"fileurl":"\/uploads\/","filesize":null,"article_url":"\/news\/2004\/11\/119599.php"},"attachments":[],"comments":[]}