All told, my experience with Stephanie wasn’t the best way for me to start my first day at my new job—but, with things starting out the way they did, I approached the rest of my day with the mindset that things could only get better… but, boy oh boy, was I wrong.
~ Chapter 4 ~
As I said earlier, rEcore is a Fortune 500, industry-leading IT company. It’s literally worth billions of dollars, and its net worth keeps on growing and growing, but its structure and size remain pretty stable. There are seven rEcore satellite offices scattered across the United States, and they’re all tethered to rEcore’s main headquarters in Pittsburgh. The entire enterprise employs fewer than 250 people, including me and the two dozen other people putting their noses to the grindstone in alongside me in this newly renovated office.
As far as my particular position with the company, it was a highly coveted one in the mid-level bracket, and, if I played my cards right, it would prove to be my one-way ticket to the top of my field.
I knew all of these things before I accepted the job at rEcore and moved to Pittsburgh, and I was reminded of them again after Edgar dropped me off at my supervisor’s office.
My supervisor, Gretchen Gordon, was a very cool, very down to earth woman who looked to be only a few years older than me, though she was probably a lot wiser. She met with me right away and started reiterating everything I already knew about rEcore and my job the moment I walked into her office, reciting the information as if it was some standard script she played out for every new employee. For all I knew, it probably was a standard script, not that it mattered.
After her rote performance, Gretchen went on to describe the interoffice dynamics of our office, her expectations as my superior, and the swag and perk benefits of being a rEcore employee. She also went on to speak to me on a more personal level, asked how I was settling in in Pittsburgh, and recommended a few techie-friendly meetups and hangouts. By the time she was done giving me the lowdown, I was pretty psyched about everything, and definitely felt like my first day had taken a turn for the better.
“Let me show you to your work area,” Gretchen said as she stood up at the end of our meeting. We walked out of her office and down a short hallway. “As you can see,” she said when we walked into the belly of rEcore, “we have a very open arrangement here.”
Gretchen gestured to the open space all around us. There were multiple desks, meeting hubs, and amenities set out in the middle of the area, and the perimeter was lined with offices and conference rooms—but, none of the them had doors, and they were separated the rest of the room by ceiling-to-floor glass panels, or, perhaps, some would say, windows, not walls.
“This is where the programmers, miners, and analysists work,” Gretchen explained. “Executives—like me—have private offices on the other end of this floor, and the big wigs have super sweet suites upstairs. We have support staff on every floor, but the bulk of them work in the administrative office that’s located downstairs.
“There are also some pretty awesome employee break and rec rooms down there, including a billiards room,” Gretchen said with a chuckle. “We totally appreciate that sometimes you computer geniuses need to shut your brains off and relax for a bit.”
I was thoroughly intrigued by everything Gretchen was telling me, and was very optimistic. Although, to be honest, I was a little intimidated by my surroundings. I’d never worked in an office like this one before—as far as prestige or setup—and I was a little nervous about fitting in and finding my groove. Even in my dress-to-impress charcoal gray skirt suit, I felt a little out of my league, and very much under the microscope. I was scared to think of people watching me though those long, floor-length glass panels.
“And here we are,” Gretchen said, waving her arm toward one of the unoccupied cells in rEcore’s honeycomb-like office lineup. “This one is yours. I’m sure you’ll do great work here.”
Gretchen stood by the door-less entryway to my office and watched as I entered and took a gander.
“Take a few moments to look around and get a feel for the place,” she added before leaving. “I’ll have one of the HR folks come up and talk to you in a bit—just to go over some of the basics and set you up with your log-in credentials, stuff like that. In the meantime, if you have any questions, just ask anyone around you. We encourage teamwork here at rEcore, and teamwork requires helping others when they ask for it—as well as asking for help when you need it.”
With that, Gretchen turned and walked away. She stopped and talked with a few other people as she made her way back to her office—and I studied every move she made through the see-through wall of windows. I also studied everyone, and everything, else I saw and tried not to gaze too long in any one direction, lest someone think I was checking them out, spying on them, or just being weird.
Once I was done staring outside of my office, I turned to examine the things in it. I had a top-of-the-line desktop computer on my smooth black desk—and, I discovered a shiny new laptop, tablet, and cell phone sitting on the credenza behind me. I didn’t bother trying to boot any of them up—even though I desperately wanted to—because I didn’t have my login credentials yet, and I didn’t want the HR person walking in on me while I tried to hack my way into what was probably an un-hackable system.
Since there wasn’t much I could do in my office without being able to access a computer, I decided to explore the open common area of the office space. I walked out of my office and slowly circled the floor to get a better look at everything that was available. The place really was decked out. In addition to the desks and meeting hubs I’d initially noticed, there was a kitchenette/dining area; two “multi-media” rooms, each equipped with huge HDTV with a tower of auxiliary ports and hookups; a dimly lit “meditation spot” with padded acoustically sound room dividers, beanbags, and an oversized fish stocked with myriad gilled creatures; and a few other amenities I wouldn’t yet discover.
During my exploration, I ran into a few different people and had the chance to chat with some of my coworkers. I had a lot of new faces and new information coming at me all at once, and I tried as hard as I could to remember it all, by remembering each person’s name along with something unique to identify them.
Tracy is the one with really pretty blue eyes, I told myself, for example, and Gary is the one with the rock star haircut. Tara has lots of piercings in her ears, and Jeff snorts when he laughs.
As I made my way back to my office, I couldn’t help but smile. Things were going great—better than I ever expected—and I’d nearly forgotten the uncomfortableness from earlier that morning.
Just as I neared my door-less office entry, another woman was nearing it from the other direction. “Trish?” she asked.
I nodded.
“I’m Becky, from HR,” she went on. “How about we go in your office, talk shop, and get you set up in the system?”
“Sounds great, Becky,” I answered. “I saw all the nifty gadgets in my office, and I couldn’t wait for you to get here so I could use them.”
“Oh, that stuff’s only the tip of the iceberg,” Becky said with a smile, entering my office and taking a seat in one of the cozy chairs on the opposite side of my desk. “rEcore really knows how to treat its employees, and I think you’ll be more than pleased with the luxuries you have at your disposal.”
I returned Becky’s smile with an even bigger one and said the only thing that came to mind: “Wow.”
Becky laughed at my loss for words and then filled the silence. She had me go over some paperwork with her and asked me to sign a few things—and then we really got down to business. She had me fire up my desktop, walked me through my initial login, and helped me set up my credentials. As a techie, I probably could have done all that myself, without her actually being there—all I would’ve needed was the initial passcode.
But, nevertheless, I paid careful attention to everything she was saying, because I knew that understanding how the technology worked was only part of the
process. I also needed to understand the human element involved in it. Whenever there is a computer network involved in something, that network is run by people—and different people approach that same technology from different angles. If you really want to understand a network, you have to be familiar with the preferences of the people who run it. You have to know where they’re coming from, and you have to get in on their angle.
Even though we were surrounded by glass, I felt like Becky and I were in our own little world as we took care of network matters. I didn’t even think about what was going on just beyond my window panels, and I was oblivious to the sounds of activity all around me… until I heard it.
I heard a snort, which, in turn, made me laugh. I looked up from my computer and saw Jeff standing by a desk a short way away from my office. Wait… Was it Jeff—or Gary? Which one was the one who snorted when he laughed? He was facing my way, talking to another fellow who had his back to me.
I was about to bow my head down again and resume my relationship with the computer screen when the other guy turned around. The first thing I thought was, Damn, he’s hot. Then the second thing I thought was, Damn, I know him.
Unlike several days prior, when it took me a moment to register who Julie Benson was when I ran into her in Carson Café—and unlike a minute early, when I couldn’t remember if the snorter was Jeff or Gary—I immediately recognized this guy and remembered his name.
Joe.
That was all I knew. I’d only ever gotten his first name—and, while I didn’t know what his last name was, or why he was standing there in rEcore’s most highly coveted office, I did know what he looked like naked, what his body tasted like, and how pleasurably pained his voice sounded when he cried out during an orgasm.
~ Chapter 5 ~
“Are you still with me?” Becky asked—and, truth be told, she had good reason to pose her question. My eyes, once fixed on the computer before me, were focused solely on Joe; my ears, one paying careful attention to every word Becky said, now strained to hear whatever I could of the conversation beyond my office; and, my posture, once straight and stealthy, was now hunched over, trying to make my own little bubble in the fishbowl that surrounded me.
“Trish?” Becky asked, though it came out more like an exclamation than a question.
I buried my head in my hand, turned to her, and answered, “Yeah, sorry, Becky. I’m just a little overwhelmed by all this ‘newness,’ I guess, and I just saw someone I think I know.”
“Well, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Becky replied before leaning over and taking a gander out in the open hallway. Joe and the other guy (who I’d concluded was Jeff, not Gary) had moved past my office and were now just two out of several people in the hallway, so it wasn’t obvious who I was talking about, but it was obvious that Becky was curious—though, come on, there was no way I was going to tell her who I thought I saw and how I’d known him.
“Not a ghost,” I said, “but a blast from the past.” I laughed a little and tossed my hair back, hoping my statement hadn’t given too much away.
“According to your file, you went to Pitt, right?” Becky inquired. I nodded in the affirmative, and she went on. “I’m sure you’re bound to run into some people you know from back in the day, then, especially since a lot of our employees have some sort of local background at one of the schools or universities here. Plus, the tech world isn’t so big, now is it? Everyone knows someone, and that’s how progress is made… All I can say is, whoever your blast from the past was, I hope it was a good one. We keep it pretty tightly knit here at rEcore.”
Ha! I thought to myself. Becky wished my blast from the past was a good one, but, man on man, she had no idea. I hadn’t thought about Joe in years, and I don’t know how I would’ve categorized my memories of him, but suffice to say, for the large part, I wouldn’t have used the word “good,” unless of course I was referencing something superficial or dirty, in which case it’d be an understatement.
I could say that Joe was good-looking, that he showed me a good time, or that he was good in bed. But, the fact of the matter was… Joe was great-looking, he showed me an awesome time, and he was amazing in bed. As per the other details about him and our time together, there were dozens of words that came to mind, but “good” was not one of them.
Guilt, shame, regret; too much to drink, not enough self-esteem; loose morals and loose legs; disrespectful, abrupt, and embarrassing—do any of those words sound “good” to you? They weren’t to me, and that’s how I felt about everything after it had happened, and, though I’d long since tried to clear my thoughts of Joe and hadn’t felt those negative things in years, I felt them again as I sat there with Becky in my office. I wanted so badly to tell her what was up, but, again, knew that I couldn’t, and, even more, I wanted to duck out of my office and call Julie on my cell phone. I knew for sure that she’d be a good person to talk to and would appreciate what I had to say, but I couldn’t just up and leave my office in the middle of my onboarding.
“A blast from the past is a blast from the past, right?” I said to Becky with a forced smile on my face. “And, you’re right… I’m bound to run into people I know—or knew—so I guess I better get used to it and not let it interfere with my work.”
“Exactly,” Becky said with a real smile. “So, as I was saying… Your office is stocked with all the tech equipment you should need for your work, and, if you need something else, all you have to do is submit a request form, and we’ll get it to you promptly… Other than that, please feel free to use your laptop, tablet, phone, and other mobile devices as they were meant to be used—you can take them home with you, or anywhere else on-the-go, and can personalize them as you see fit.
“You can use them for your personal communications as well, but remember to do so within reason. Emails, social networking, Christmas shopping—that’s all cool. But don’t go crazy. We once had a brilliant guy working for us, who we had to let go after we discovered he was using his devices to feed his sexual cravings… He was downloading—and uploading—porn videos constantly, even in the office, and, even though we keep it real at rEcore, that was just a little over the top.”
My jaw dropped a little when Becky told me this. I couldn’t really imagine anyone using their work equipment for purposes like that—but, then again, I guess some folks are like kids in a candy store when you give them unlimited access to technology.
“I promise I won’t be watching, or making, any pornos,” I replied.
“Good,” Becky chimed back, laughing. “I know it’s ridiculous to say it, but it’s got to be said… As for other mobile protocol, try to use the rEcore mobile hotspot whenever you can, but if you can’t pick up the signal, please make sure that you only use a limited broadcast channel with an encrypted passcode. Don’t have these things connected and running anywhere where information can be intercepted. I’m sure you know there are countless hackers out there who’d just love to come across a rEcore employee’s workload, and none of us involved can afford that.”
“I hear you loud and clear,” I told Becky, trying to drown out the other noises around me. There were people chatting outside and around us, and I desperately hoped that Joe wasn’t one of them or that, if he was, he hadn’t seen me. I’d deal with him when and if I had to, but, for the time being, I wanted to settle into my new job and get things going. I hoped, beyond all hope, that it was just a random occurrence that he was there, that maybe he was a delivery man or adjunct resource.
“So that’s all I have for you right now,” Becky said, again interrupting my thoughts and bringing a close to our conversation. “If you need anything, ask around or call extension 413 and ask for me… For now, just take some time to explore the system. Someone—probably Edgar—will be around in a bit to explain your first assignment.”
“Thanks, Becky,” I replied, grabbing my mouse and feigning interest in what was before me on the computer screen. As she walked out of my office, I scrolled and clicked a
round my desktop, staring at the icons, though my mind wandered to distant memories, and my heart sank to the pit of my stomach.
~ Chapter 6 ~
It was about seven years ago—shortly after I broke up with Tommy. Patty the bookworm had just studied her ass off and successfully made it through midterms with straight A’s, as usual, and was feeling an unusual need to kick back, relax, and maybe even celebrate a little.
Some girls from my dorm, including Julie, were going out one night, and they asked me to join them. They’d asked me to join them several times before, and I’d always declined—but, this time, much to all of our surprise, I actually agreed.
There were five of us in total when the evening began, and the first spot we hit was a pub that served cheap pitchers of beer. “It’s called pre-gaming,” one of the other girls told me, explaining how it is standard protocol to go to a cheap place to get your drink on before hitting the more happening joints, where drinks are far more costly.
I pre-gamed it with the rest of them for over an hour and threw back glass after glass of beer until we were ready to hit the next spot. The pub was pretty lame, for the most part, though it did claim one of our crew. A short brunette, whose name I can’t remember now, left our pack when she ran into a frat boy she’d hooked up with a few times before, and, judging from the way the rest of the girls giggled as we left, it hadn’t been the first time she’d strayed to get laid.
The next spot we hit was a bar right in the middle of campus. Back then, the place was named after a legendary author, and I haven’t been back there since, but I’d like to think it’s still named after him. Call me crazy, but there are way too many bars with generic, run of the mill names out there, and I only hope this one didn’t give in to the trends.
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