The Job: Based on a True Story (I Mean, This is Bound to have Happened Somewhere)

By Craig Davis

Joe B. enjoys the sweet life as a vice president at a huge conglomerate, Universal Whirligig. But along with the Big Boss' favor, he has also gained the notice of a bitter human resources manager, Luci Fernandez. Hateful of any success but her own, Luci manages to get him demoted to the mail room! A rollicking comedy of errors follows. "The Job" is a modern parable of ancient troubles and truths.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Craig Davis
• Release date: Aug 30, 2010
• ISBN: 9780982956731

Craig Davis

After earning bachelor's and graduate degrees at the University of Missouri, Craig Davis toiled for 20 years at newspapers, and has spent a lifetime in biblical scholarship. He wrote his first story while in Kindergarten, about King Kong. An amateur musician, he was once wrestled to the ground by a set of bagpipes.

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The Job: Based on a True Story

(I mean, this is bound to have happened somewhere)

By Craig Davis

Published by St.Celibart Press at Smashwords

23 Castlerock Cv. Jackson TN 38305

This volume is available in print at Amazon.com

Copyright © 2009 Harry Craig Davis

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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ISBN: 978-0-9829567-3-1

Davis, Craig, The Job: Based on a True Story

(I Mean, This Is Bound To Have Happened Somewhere)

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www.StCelibart.com

The Job: Based on a True Story

(I mean, this is bound to have happened somewhere)

By Craig Davis

CHAPTER I

A fly buzzed around his head, a fly the size of a Piper Cub, if the droning’s great volume offered any clue. Great, grating buzz. No, wait – it was just the alarm.

Joe B. propped his glazed eyes open, staring down the early-morning darkness, the fly – alarm – still nagging. Surely the ceiling hovered above his bed somewhere. A sublime body next to him, presumably his wife, sighed and shifted. The down of his pillow and comforter seduced him with soft warmth, particularly intoxicating this cold morning, or so it seemed to him.

I sat up in my bed,

And shook my scruffy head,

And said,

I don’t want to get up in the morning!

The old rhyme from his children’s infancy teased Joe B.’s ears. Cherished memories of giggly snuggling tempted him like a Siren back toward sleep. Fortunately, the siren that was his clock prevailed; somehow he found himself in the shower, slowly waking to another day.

Despite the mental haze of the early hour, Joe B. felt a glow of security grow within his body. The drudgery of daily duties translated in his mind to a sense of purpose and accomplishment, his identity cozily nested in his junior-executive career. The safety of a roof over his head, the affirmation of a helpmate by his side – these products of well-ordered goals and effort persuaded him that all was well in the world, and that he marched in step with prosperity. Everything he could see or foresee at work and play told him he enjoyed the benevolent favor of his Big Boss. Life was good.

" ‘I’m singin’ in the rain,’ " he gurgled in the shower water. " ‘Just singin’, and dancin’ ’ – that’s beautiful." His thoughts turned lithely to fever charts and diagrams, bars and lines, the tools of his toil at Universal Whirligig. As Vice President for the Development of International Integration of Core Technological Orientation (Emerging Nations Division), he served the company as just one in a swarm of junior officers. Together these men and women scurried about at their appointed tasks in a cloud of indiscernible suits and faces, at the behest and under the distant gaze of the Big Boss.

Twenty-one years – from white-collar pencil pusher to vice president – Joe B. had invested at Universal Whirligig. Though he had never blatantly sought promotion, success in the office had consistently found him; instead of climbing on people’s heads, he had tried to bring as many co-workers along with him as possible. But, on the other hand, he was not above stealing second at the company picnic softball game, either. Often he opened his office door to colleagues in need of professional or personal advice; no amount of affluence had undermined the firmly fixed principles that had gotten him there.

Joe B.’s attention wandered dangerously away from his razor and into visions of his beloved files, faux-wood cabinets lined up along each wall of his office like a second clutch of dutiful children. Lovingly he tended the files, slipping them delicately out for referral, then gently back in for safe keeping. As the most clever technology whiz among Universal Whirligig’s tie-wearing crowd, his reputation had ridden upon the shoulders of his masterful transfer of the firm’s records from paper to electronic storage. Gently, firmly, he had coaxed the entire company into the eager hands of the 21st Century. But history dies hard, and now Joe B., instead of making computer backups of paper records, studiously oversaw the requisition of paper backups for computer records, in the most modern way. Constantly cross-checking, he made sure papers matched computers matched papers. This fine work had landed Joe B. in a sleek office with a sleek secretary.

" ‘Can’t buy me blub ble, blubble blubble blub,’ " he sang through his churning toothbrush. The bright blue eyes staring back at him from the mirror said one thing: Watch out world.

A careful application of pomade and comb, and Joe B. emerged confidently from the steamy mists of the bathroom. Rows of stiffly pressed and folded shirts, white as snow, smiled from his dresser drawer, teeth held neatly in place by a brace of pre-selected ties. He hopped around the room pulling on his crisp pants, and knotted his very carefully conservative (but calculatedly fashionable) neckwear to point directly to his belt buckle. Dark socks, strictly businesslike, embraced his feet, shod by oxfords laced securely, no string complete without plastic end intact. Cufflinks, tie tack, collar pin: Let no detail be cast aside as too small.

Upon Joe B.’s dresser awaited an array of wonderful gizmos to gird his loins for joining the capitalist battle. Each item fit into place upon his belt – cell phone, PDA, GPS. A giddy fascination danced in his eyes as he picked up each item, filling him with the joy of novelty. But even with this love of everything new and shiny, Joe B. appreciated what had gone before; his study held a collection of old and rare books, musty volumes filled with priceless treasure. Opening up a dry leather cover to dusty paper pages, scanning them onto his computer and transferring the words to an electronic reading device was a good day spent indeed.

But this was no time to think of the wonders of wisdom found in ancient writings. One by one, he continued, clipping on his gadgets – iPod, pepper-spray pen, key fob – some only to maintain balance, or simply to reserve their space, for they no longer had any practical purpose; sometimes he wondered if his pager even worked anymore, not that it mattered. On and on it went: the spring-loaded tape measure in millimeters, the flash drive, a couple of things he couldn’t identify, until finally he stood fully equipped, the modern soldier for corporate war.

He coolly threw his suit coat over his shoulder and crooned, " ‘If I can make it there, I’ll make it anywhere, it’s up to U-ni-ver-sal Whir-li –‘ well, whatever."

Wingtips flying down the stairs, Joe B. stooped to quick hugs and kisses from dutiful daughters – Faith, Hope and even Marie, as best as she was able – and glided like Fred Astaire into the kitchen. Their seventh house in fifteen years, this Victorian three-story satisfied every requirement and convenience Joe B. and his family desired. From top to bottom, from vaulted ceilings to solid cherry floors and excruciatingly white trim in-between, this home had put an end to a lifetime of moves, the home they would call home, and made their increasing debt worth every drop of nervous sweat. His feet deftly navigated the dual islands of the kitchen, and his arms found his wife, beautiful already even in her floor-length housecoat. The dog, a Jack Russell terrier they called Jack Russell – they had hit a wall trying to think of a name – jumped excitedly between their feet and waistlines.

Quickly a cup of coffee was poured, and a large dollop of cream splashed into place.

Do you like some coffee with your cream? his wife smiled. The crinkled corners of her eyes spoke of years prospered by love.

Sometimes I do. I’m such a coffee wimp, he replied, theatrically overwrought.

Now, don’t be so hard on yourself, you poor dear.

Joe B. raised high his mug. Lord, bless this house today, and all within and without.

A full half-dozen of the gizmos upon his belt, along with his wristwatch, bore the correct time, but he cast a quick glance at the clock on the wall anyway. Gotta run! he announced and grabbed the bagel with cream cheese his wife offered in his direction. Clumsily sticking an umbrella under one arm and hanging a heavy coat over the other, he took up his briefcase, juggled breakfast and fumbled at the doorknob. The bagel fell cream-cheese-flat to the floor.

Well, there’s a good start to the day, he contemplated the mess.

***

On the directly opposite side of town, Luci Fernandez stirred from a night of lying awake. Years of anger again had twisted the passing hours within her mind and the covers around her body. Never could she let go of her resentment. As a girl she had entertained dreams of becoming a dancer on the stage, graciously accepting the accolades of adoring audiences. Even as a young woman she had entertained dreams of becoming a dancer on the stage, graciously accepting the accolades of adoring audiences. As a middle-aged woman, she realized her dreams had waltzed out the door. She now worked in the Human Resources office at Universal Whirligig, as Executive Officer in Charge of Outgoing Prescription Drug Claims Oversight.

At one time she had been on the company fast track, but even in that she had gained only frustration. Hidden well within her heart she coveted the Big Boss’ authority, his place as sole leader of the fabulous corporation. Deep down she believed she could run the company better than him, and deserved to do so. But ill-advised politicking had stalled her climb, and daily she could witness other men and women flying past her

Reviews for The Job

[barbsreviews · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Joe B gets useless information that makes things worse as it goes along. He goes from being a VP at a huge company down to the mailroom. The family has to make some serious changes. The story has Christian meaning as the story is taken from the book of JOB. I rather liked the modern day easy to understand theme. Makes you understand why GOD allows us to suffer. Great read.

[mrshemery · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first thing I noticed when I began reading this was the naming of the various offices within the main character's company, Universal Whirligig. The naming of the various offices, and company itself, was generic, exaggerated and humorous all rolled into one. For example, the main character's office was named the Development of International Integration of Core Technological Orientation (Emerging Nations Division). This office sounds believable, but it also sounds slightly ridiculous which, in itself, is humorous.As I continued to read and get into the story itself, I started realizing that there were subtle messages in this story. Messages that intermingle with each other and that we all could apply to our own careers. The most obvious is the fact that we all have Big Bosses who make decisions we don't understand. Sometimes, those decisions affect us or someone we know. If they do affect us, many times we don't understand why. Our job is not to question the Big Boss. Instead, our job is to do our job ... to the best of our abilities. The Big Boss does see all of his/her employees whether those employees realize it or not. It seems like a 'Big Brother' situation, but it's true. And, if we continue to do our job to the best of our abilities, the Big Boss (or Bosses in some cases) will notice it and good things will happen. Herein lies another message ... we should always do our jobs to the best of our abilities ... despite our confusion, our despair, our anger, etc. Doing your job the best of your abilities will make the company look good, yes, but it will also give you a sense of satisfaction and self-worth whether you realize it or not. So what that there are bumps along the road (and I'm speaking to myself as well as you), those are to be expected in every area of life ... we just need to keep pressing on and doing what's right.Now we come to the third message ... No matter how you feel, you should always treat people with respect and dignity. Yes, you might get aggravated at a co-worker or customer. That doesn't mean it gives you permission to treat them rudely. You never know what people are going through in their personal/professional lives so it's always best to be understanding and patient. Yes, this may take some practice and you may not get it right away, but keep trying. Treating people with kindness will make you feel better about yourself too. Besides ... what goes around, comes around right? One day, you're going to be the person aggravating a co-worker or vendor ... don't you want them to treat you with kindness and respect?I'm amazed that I gathered so much from such a little book ... more than I expected to. I really think it would benefit most, if not all, people to read this book ... just for the enlightenment it'll bring as you're reading.