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Squirrel Cage

Page 25

by Cindi Jones

“Cindi, I really don’t want to get into that,” he replied. I knew that I could press no further. I was not paranoid.

  “Al, I’ve enjoyed working for you. I wish you the best of luck” I told him.

  “Cindi, I don’t need luck. I’m smart,” he said as he left my office. And at this moment, he was right. Getting out of this job would be my number one priority. But I would only work at it from home. I would give this company my best effort even if they didn’t want me.

  Oddly enough, the next VP of marketing was also named Al. He had been in his office for one day when he called me in for a chit chat. We talked a little about ourselves to get to know each other. He was floating balloons to see how I would take what he had to say. I’d seen it before.

  “Here it comes” I said to myself. I was prepared to hear the news that I would be looking for a job full time. I really wanted the chance to get some resumes out in the bay area. The bay area was the place to be in hi tech. It was also much more liberal in terms of problems that I had faced.

  “Cindi” Al started, “I’ve just been privy to some very interesting information. I understand that you have been a victim of serious discrimination,” he said.

  “It is true that I have asked for management intervention,” I told him as I explained the behavior of our Jersey sales guy. “I’ve always maintained that I do not wish anyone to get in trouble over it, I just want it to stop so that I may peacefully do my job,” I said.

  “Cindi, I am indeed saddened because it has been worse than that. I have talked to the responsible parties and this activity will cease here and now.”

  I could think of several things. I had pages of notes. I really didn’t ever think that I would really need them. But, I counsel everyone who goes through an experience similar to mine. Keep notes. Keep them at home. Never use your desk to store any personal materials.

  “Also,” he went on, “I can not see how you have done so well with the northern plant without being there. This is a ridiculous situation. It is untenable.”

  “I have wanted to move up there for the past 14 months Al. It has been very difficult to get things done when I have to spend half of every day on the phone.”

  “Good, that answers my next question. I take it that you are open to move north?” he asked.

  “Al, it would make my job much easier if I could actually meet with the people I work with every day. It makes perfect sense.”

  “Good. Let me know how quickly you can be prepared to move. The company will pay for your relocation.”

  “Al, I have only spent ten minutes with you and already I like you,” I said.

  “Cindi, all I did was look at the ledger sheets for the past year and I liked you too. Get ready and get yourself up there. This is the only thing I want you to work on,” he concluded.

  Within six days I had settled into a centrally located apartment in Silicon Valley. I did not have to think about this decision at all. I did not hesitate a moment to make the move. I liked the new VP very much. He was a straight shooter. He got things done. He was history within six weeks. This is what happens to people who I think are good. I was sorry for him that I liked him in a professional sense. I worked hard during the day and at night, I worked on resumes.

  It was sad in some ways to leave the LA area. I had gone through a lot there. I had changed my life in so many ways. I had grown considerably as well. I said my goodbyes to Trish and the rest of my friends. I would be back from time to time for visits.

  Now, I had a new life. I had a new place to start. I would make a career. I would make my life here.

  Matty and I had met years earlier. His place was my sanctuary when I had been traveling in the good old days of ….well you know. The first time I met him “in drag”, we went out, and he told me that he loved me as he dropped me off at my hotel. I didn’t quite know how to take it. I certainly didn’t look good that night. I have a picture and all I can do is stick a finger down my throat as I look at it. Over the years, we had developed a wonderful warm platonic friendship.

  We got together every weekend. We’d stroll the malls, buy stuff for his home, purchase a few furniture items for my apartment, shop for clothes. Just hang out. He’d always take me somewhere special on Saturday nights. Once in a while we would get together with Andi and go over to the Red Lion Hotel for music and dancing. Andi was the consummate class act. She reminded my of my mothers aunt. Every hair had its place. Every line of her make up was perfect. I had great admiration for someone to put that kind of effort to get ready. I had wash-N-wear hair. I’d just throw on some clothes and go.

  Weekends were far too short.

  Immediately after the new VP left, I was assigned to report to the plant manager. It was clearly a demotion. Two weeks to the day he called me in and told me that I was not performing to expectations. I could tell that he was not comfortable telling me this. It was not his decision to do this.

  I went back to my office and brought in my personal copies of the real numbers. Sales had clearly gone up. I had deleted product lines that did not make money. I had renegotiated contracts that better benefit us. Our inventory was now real. I had helped our engineering group reduce defects. Productivity was up every month. I loved working with numbers. They can’t be disputed. But dispute them he did.

  “Look Kevin, I know where this is coming from. It’s coming from our president in the south. If you can’t appreciate what I’m doing by looking at the numbers, then I’m not the right girl for the job. If you need me to leave, I’ll find another job and move on so that you don’t have to fire me. I’ll not fault you at all.” I knew that I read the situation correctly. I could see it in his face has his lower lip dropped slightly. Kevin was a good honest man. But he was also a yes man. And he had told someone yes that morning.

  I doubled my efforts with resumes and interviews. I always scheduled my interviews to be during lunch or preferably after hours so that I made sure to not cheat the company paying my wages. Kevin knew that I was looking. But I was hard at work every single day.

  I passed through the cafeteria one day to purchase a soda. The room was crowded with the employees eating lunch. The machines were owned by the employees, the profits were used to fund holiday parties. I put my change in and received a soda. My coins, instead of falling into the coin box, were returned to me as change. As I left, I gave the change to the woman in charge of the employee’s fund and I told her that the machine had given me a free soda. I didn’t think much about it. I passed Kevin on my way up to my office. He was headed into the cafeteria for a soda as well.

  I was feeling pretty good. I had a fairly good offer for another marketing position. I didn’t know if it would work out, but it was definitely a way to get back to state of the art engineering in a really solid company. I had met the marketing staff and their style was a little too shifty for me. But I needed to get some good references for engineering and this seemed like a good shot. I was going to tell them yes.

  A few minutes later, Kevin came bounding up the stairs with his soda. He peeked in my office and said

  “Hello Cindi” as he smiled. He had a spring in his step and his mood had improved. He had made a decision and he was happy about it. Our offices were placed together. I could hear every word he said on the phone.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m not going to do this. You can’t talk me out of it. It is the right thing to do,” I heard him say.

  He called me into his office. He stood and came round his desk to sit with me. “Hmmm”, I thought to myself, “he’s learned one of my disarming tricks. I wonder if it is for real or is it a trick?”

  “Cindi, this thing has been bothering me for a couple of weeks. Yes, this is about our conversation about your performance. I just talked to Mary in the cafeteria about your soda purchase this afternoon.”

  “Oh c’mon Kevin, you mean that little thing about me giving my change back?”

  “Yes that’s it Cindi. It’s a little thing but it reminded me what I already
know about your base character. I’ve worked with you for almost two years now and I’ve seen it every single day. I am very sorry about the performance thing. I’d really appreciate it if you would stay,” he concluded with a smile beaming from ear to ear. He had bucked the president. He had told him that he wouldn’t do his dirty work.

  “Kevin, thank you so much for talking to me. I too have very much enjoyed working with you. But since your conversation, I have been presented with a very nice offer and I think that I’ll be taking it.”

  I did take the offer. I did gain some valuable engineering contacts. I did not get along with the shifty marketing team. I resigned eight months later and took a six week vacation.

  Now I had proof that I could return to engineering. It was tough. I practiced on the programming craft every night at home writing utilities.

  I found my engineering job.

  I did succeed.

  Brick

  Matty, Andi, and I got together. It had been at least two, maybe three years since we had been here as a threesome. Our lives had changed. We had changed. I had changed. We were sitting in our favorite hide out at the Red Lion Hotel in the lounge listening to the live entertainment as we had done so frequently in the past. It had been the backdrop for so many good times I recalled.

  *****

  I had started appearing here during business trips years earlier. I would conclude the days work, rush to my room, and change. I would catch some dinner or watch TV. Then I would drop down to the lounge to listen to the music. I loved music. It inspired me. It soothed me.

  I would sit in a dark corner and have a couple of sodas. The waitresses were very kind to me. I would pass off any requests to dance with a wave of my hand as I would indicate no thanks by with a nod of my head.

  One of the first nights I presented myself en femme, I had the need to visit the powder room. Should I go to my own room up on the seventh floor? Or can I risk using the one right here? “Do it here,” said Squirrel. “I can’t risk it. I should go to my room,” I argued. “You’ll need to do this sooner or later” countered Squirrel. I pondered the question far too long. The urgency of the situation dictated where I would go.

  I came out of the stall. All of the women were rushed in confusion as they scurried through the luxurious part of the powder room where seats and mirrors adorned the walls. “There’s a man in here” I heard a woman say, emanating from near the exit. I soon realized that she referred to the gentleman IN the ladies room wearing a dark blue hotel blazer. “Great Cindi, look what you have done now,” said Squirrel. I was terrified. I pictured myself in the local lockup trying to explain what I was doing in the ladies restroom. “You should have just gone to your room,” said Squirrel. “Thanks, Squirrel. You’ve put me in an embarrassing situation again,” I responded. There was a certain thrill to test the limits, to find out how well I had really presented myself in public. This test had failed miserably.

  As I followed the others to the door to leave, he singled me out, the other man in the ladies room. “You are going to have to leave,” he said as he directed his attention directly towards me. This would be the first and the very last time that Cindi would be embarrassed so blatantly. I spoke not a word; I was still not comfortable with my voice. I left briskly and proceeded to the elevator. He got in with me. He said nothing and did not look at me.

  Have you ever noticed how everyone acts in an elevator? It’s an unwritten rule that you step as far back as you can. If there are only two passengers, you both pick opposite corners. When the elevator starts, you face forward and watch the little numbers change above the door. Everyone faces the door. Where do we learn this stuff?

  “1”

  I like to get on a crowded elevator now and face the crowd. My back is to the elevator door I smile at them and say “hello, my name is Cindi.” It is completely unsocial behavior, very unnerving, and completely disarming. Try it when you are with a first date or business associates. It’s a great trick. It’s funny, it’s cool, and they’ll warm up to you in a flash.

  But on this elevator, we stared up at the numbers as the floor numbers counted up. Why did my room have to be on one of the top floors tonight? If I would have had my car keys I would have gone to the car and driven around awhile.

  “2”

  They would never let me stay in this hotel again. In fact I would make it a point to stay at the Marriott for the next year or so.

  “3”

  Crap. From the room number they will know exactly who I am. They will know the name of David Steele from my registration. They’ll know where he works. Oh shit.

  “4”

  Silence. From the peripheral view, I could see that the young man was intently watching the numbers above the door. He dared not look at me. I decided that he was a decent man doing something that was as uncomfortable for him as it was for me to be there.

  “5”

  Oh, would this elevator hurry up. Two hours have passed here seemingly and we are still lumbering up. What had given me away? I would never know. I was just starting to socialize. All in all, I didn’t do all that well I concluded.

  “6”

  I wonder what he would do if I struck up a conversation with him. Now that would really be embarrassing with my voice.

  “7”

  Finally, my floor. The doors opened and I walked briskly to my room. I quickly opened the door and closed it quickly behind me as I passed through. I pushed the door closed. He said not a word and intently assured himself that I was secured for the evening. I anticipated a phone call but none came from the front desk. I had thought that I would receive a personal request to never come back. Nothing was said when I checked out. Before I went out publicly again, I would completely redo my hair. I would need to get a good hairpiece. I would learn to deeply shave my face. I would learn to use less makeup. And I would find more stylish clothing to wear, something that fit me well, and fit the environment and mood.

  I would finally come back to the Red Lion with Matty and Andi. We would share many great nights there over the years, listening to the music, talking and laughing. We would dance and have a good time. They were innocent times. They were fun.

  *****

  So here we were, sitting at a familiar table. The room had changed significantly. It no longer resembled a fancy Las Vegas lounge. It had been changed to reflect a sports bar ambiance. The music seemed different as well. The hotel lounge was no longer crowded as it had once been.

  As the waitress approached our table, I recognized her. She had been working here for years.

  “Andi! Matty!” she said as here eyes flashed instant recognition. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you for years!” Matty beamed and acknowledged her in his gentile way. Andi turned to look at her as she went on.

  “What ever happened to that David Steele? I remember the first night that he came in here. I felt so sorry for him sitting over in the corner, so timid and shy,” she said.

  Her eyes passed around the table until they met mine. “Here I am”, I said.

  “Oh my God, OH MY GOD! You are David?” she questioned incredulously. “I don’t believe it. I do not believe my own eyes!”

  “The omelet has been cracked, whipped, cooked and served I replied. I’ve completed my change.”

  “Oh my God! I don’t believe it,” she said yet again in amazement.

  We spent the rest of the evening reminiscing. There wasn’t much dancing. The waitress spent a lot of time at our table getting to know us again. I enjoyed the night. It wasn’t long enough. Matty paid the bill and left a twenty dollar tip as he always had done. I gave Andi a big hug and left with Matty. I would never see Andi again. We lost touch.

  The event marked a new chapter in my life. I was now living a normal role in a normal world. My biggest worries now were just paying the bills. I had managed to retire my credit card debt. I could now pay my bills. Charlene worked with me to reduce child support payments that I could afford. For the first time in many
years I had a little spending money.

  I had been investing a lot of time reacquiring my old interests. I hadn’t devoted much time to them during the years of transition. The drive and ambitions pushed me only in one direction. I needed money, I had to work, and I had to improve the craft of change. I was now interested in the great outdoors again. I purchased some backpacking gear and began to enjoy the local redwood parks in the Santa Cruz Mountains.

  I invited online acquaintances in the on-line back packing news group to accompany me. I preferred to have at least three or four hikers in a group. The risks seemed minimal at the time but I was never one to take many chances. However, there were times when I would go along with a single woman or man just to get out to the forests.

  It was on such a trip that I met someone who would become very special. I was accompanied by a younger kid in his twenties. He was interested in comic books. He smelled bad. We had never met before in person and I had wondered if he had ever been backpacking before. I also wondered when he had taken his last shower. For the one night out, he had brought a full bag of groceries. He had no tent.

  I sorted through his grocery bag. I took everything non perishable out. You don’t need all of this I explained. We aren’t going far, we are only going for one night, and you’ll be carrying all the weight for nothing. “Thanks,” he said.

  We did one of my favorite hikes in a redwoods park. The climb to the backpacking campsite was a very slight incline. The trail was well worn and maintained. It was also covered with shade nearly the entire distance. I stayed well in front of “the kid” trying to avoid the backwash of his extreme body odor. He was laboring up the trail as I leisurely walked enjoying the sights and sounds of nature.

  The hike in was only three miles and it was not long before we reached the camp. I set up my tent and he had none. “Can I sleep in the tent?” he asked. I had not learned yet to say no. I was too polite. The day was fresh and clear and the temperatures were mild. There were no bugs about to worry about. “Sure,” I replied. “You can take the tent if you carry it back out. I’ll just sleep out here under the stars.” He was grateful and promised to carry the tent back down the hill in the morning.

 

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