Sagremore

There I was sitting, within the classic example of modern life. The eternal night that surrounds us, with glimpses of light, that shows the concrete walls of the prison that we ignore. Underground, not seen, working its way around the city, avoiding the ruckus, yet with the occasional noise of a kid, or the far off conversation of women, and the rare stop with crowds, walking, pushing and shoving. Otherwise quite except for the hum of machines. No, the year is not 2028, its 2003 (almost 2004). Everyone in this place is, tired, bored or frustrated, and most are scared, not talking, waiting for their turn. To get out and walk to the light, to the sun that awaits them, if they are lucky. This is Middle America, unseen, going about their duties with out questioning, doing as the rest wants and lets them do. I join them daily; at least twice in this silent and deprived of sight commute.

My turn comes and I walk out, avoiding the touch of those that can be pickpockets, watching out of the corner of my eye, who is around me. Feeling uncomfortable due to the lack of support, making me think that everyone is out to make a quick buck, and so doing it by any means necessary and at my expenses. I am not better off then the rest, might even be worst, but I do display an erroneous appearance, all a sham to achieve one of those elusive dreams. Walking to the place where the few funds that I do posses come from, dreading the oncoming flow of irrelevant questions and noises, that I have come to relate to frustration and ignorance. I hate them all.

The weather is never the same, sometimes, the sun allowing to be seen, hurting the eyes, blinding, confusing and burning, other times, gray, gloomy, so gray that it blends into the building, making them seem bigger then they are, creating a feeling within oneself of been even smaller. It’s just a 5-minute walk, yet you get to see more desolated people, and now also cars, single people, alone, there is a glimpse of sadness in their faces. No birds sing, no dogs bark, just the footsteps on the concrete, rubber burning. A new variable comes, a new sense, the eternal stink of oil and smog, creates an even heavier walk.

Now familiar faces become bigger and fresher, formalities are done and said. Lies to make us feel accepted and safe. Present the piece of plastic with no real value, exceptionality or knack, yet trusted as the only weapon for our defense against the terror, the terror that would never attack that little den of lies and ignorance. Mistaken for a normal person, allowed passage to the inside of the long white hall, a path to un-motivate even the richest of dreams. Again outside, now worried that those who think better of themselves will not abuse their advantage, and by doing so, committing the biggest of crimes, unwillingly, by accident.

There it is, the door to despair, and the fountain of the marginal revenue that I have obtain. More of the well-known faces, more formalities, and no meaningful events, not yet, just walking along the wall, bare, plain and boring. Turning the corner, like an alley, dark, cramped and a few closed doors, a dead end. Walk to the second door on the left, open, go inside. Now here, the cradle of my civilization has no warmth and the noises of dozens of fans saturate the already tiny room.

Tune the one non-digital device on to hear sound that resembles a kind of harmony and melody. Sit down in front of the two pale blue windows of relative information, turn to the left one and type on the keys below it what I seem to recall as my personal code. Wait, wait, and wait, a glimpse of life. Now turn to the machine on the right, check its status and decide that it’s corrupted, restart it and go to waiting mode again.

The first lets me know that it is ready for a dialog, if of any sort. Push so more buttons, the screen’s appearance change, information that is useless yet relevant to the fulfillment of my duties. Stare without understanding and act as if in complete control.

Turn to the second, still in its eternal struggle to make sense of itself. Here the first of the most horrid of sounds is heard, that constant and repetitive sharp scream that even harpies dread. Pick the piece that will make the device change its tone, the second one not that much better. Repeat the so coined phrase, used in everyday, everyplace to confide acceptance of the following exchange. The words losing meaning as they are spoken, filling my head with images of other places and times, where they did not exist.

At last the second of the dreaded portals to the relevant information comes to an agreement and decides to join the rest on our daily routine. Luck, would have it, that the need that arise from the questions is related to this lazy, dumb system that now is trying to chat me up on the advantages of registering the shareware. Push the button, which one is it? I don’t know, it has become a mechanical process. The response is a screen full of boxes and words. Now do a combination of my own, also mechanical reaction of my hands. Now only a set of boxes, which are empty, appear. I fill the boxes that seemed to be appropriate. The reply is long and boring, lots of lines, lots of letters, all similar in general, look for the correct and repeat into the mouthpiece the knowledge that is now conveyed.

Silence again, but for how long? An individual walks through that door which I had forgotten was there, the only way in, and the only way out. Trapped now by responsibility and by the sheer size of the living obstruction. Driven even farther into the darkness. Hope kicks in and expects the now meaningless words and formalities to be performed, but this been what it is, no. Questions, no, demands on the information that seems to shape lives, are said, no, shouted.

Get up, walk towards the door, a shiver of excitement runs through my body as it looks towards the freedom. Follow the source of anger and frustration back to the hall, now a bit more light, and revealing its bare, empty, white walls. Turn to the closed door; see it open and the exhilaration that was there disappear. Point at something or other on the shelves, pleasing the volcano of negativity. Walking again, noticing that a long day is ahead of me as the tiny, noisy room welcomes me to its uncomfortable ambient.
Dark was the day, the job interview happened. Dark was the day, it was offered and accepted. Dark was the day when I walked in for the first day, Dark is the day today.

Now, not only are the little engines that keep the contraptions cool, shattering the air, so is the voice of a woman. Hear it all over the building, and probably some other place. Echoing itself just to make sure that all those who weren’t paying attention, get a second chance.

Realizing the lack of nutrients, I depart to the opposite side of the building where some of the deep fried bread can be found. A health consciousness status is initiated, bloody trends and fashions, so the pastries remain untouched, even with the desire.

Again in the hall with its blank sides mocking me, reminding me of the boredom to follow, the constant lack of stimulus. How does it go? Live without living? Is that what I, we, have come to? Day in, day out, same path, same route, same steps, same predicable situations?? Meantime somewhere else, the Boss is still dreaming, or filling his belly with delicatessens and good old spirits.

Everything is now a routine that has become the means to which we have come to depend on and that way we can face the utterly pointless process that life has become. Try to get out of it, but if it’s not the lack of resources that pulls back, it’s the diminutive need to do so, a craving that just doesn’t come. No muse will cross the path, no even a candle at that most sought after end.

Back in the space that for a temporary moment becomes my cell. Sitting, I proceed to do what is expected, even if it is irrelevant or useless. What is the word for it? I have to use a specific one since the others might not portray the actual knowledge enclosed in them, due to the presumption that it is what it is, not what it means. Code, program, design, or develop? All have one thing in common, typing, writing. That is what takes over the day, and goes on.

Maybe it is a new system to sell swag to a foolish child or a component to a device that provides information, which in reality is as important as the possession of a title of a court.

Back in the original dark days, there was a distant light. Now, looking back, the realization of what a mind is capable of doing, soundly hits me. To be fool is bad, to be fool by your own psyche is even worst. I have seen many seasons come and go, and it seems that even more are coming.

As the noise of the keys is added to the vibrations of the little demons that are supposed to cool down the sordid amount of items around the room, everything sounds louder. There is a slight sound of vocalization and cords coming from either the black boxes on the desk or the little blue sphere behind me with all its knobs and buttons, that probably the only sources of a glimpse of happiness. Not ours, but the one of the few lucky to find themselves living their dreams.

Dreams inspiring to do what could and should be done, giving a reason to claw, bite and step on others so we can get there. Most of the fuzzy images and fantasies are gone, slowly loosing them as the time goes by, and with them the memories of the days when they were born. Sad to see what held me together disappear; found a new glue to maintain what has become a big farce, the one thing everyone has in common, everybody else. Saying what we want them to say, I don’t believe them, because it is exactly what I was searching. An attempt to bring the beauty that once was there, almost gone. Looked out to the big blue in hopes of leaving and living, now not even the grains that announced the proximity of the dream, seem to help see what is now lost.

Lost in the duty that drives the current moment, the black-corded ringer does its job, and announces the search of someone else needs fulfillment. Read the 4 numbers that give an encrypted message of what is to come. Pick up and repeat the well practice line, the usual greeting for this situation, thinking through all the possible dilemmas or request that are going to be spew at me, to find the solution and not invest to much of the only thing I still posses dealing with it. Find out that one of the would-be is true, give the standardized answer, wait for the reassuring answer and finish that old and repeated conversation.

Go back to the no so silent work, see the blinking line on the screen advance on the white body inside the frame that has capture my attention. One more character, one more word, one more line, one more function, next!!! Save, test, fix, save, test, fix, save, test, fix, save, test…

Hours go by, same actions go on. Think of what to do to break from the dole existence, maybe after all this go to the theater and see the copy of the last action movie, done with even less money and worst talent, read a new book or plan another trip to that wonderful spot that I heard of, or attempt to create some stamina to go and do what is needed to be of an attractive appearance, never mind the good it is for your heart or physique. All dismissed, just thinking of the period of time wasted just trying to get any place, a loss of time that can’t be salvaged.

First, ride back home in that dark, lonely, crowded, suffocation. Drop the burden that travels with us every day and pick up a new one, heavier. Then deal with a whole new set of depressing situations, the even more deceived and what they believe, and that is only to the way there. Once there, not only is there more of what was displayed in the way but even darker, deeper lies.

“Randolf” is heard on the overhead system; drowning every room and making me skip a beat. Again, “Randolf Silver please call the operator”. Considering this new task, I try to delay it, give myself some time. Dial the 4 lonely digits on the smallest keypad around, pick the hand piece and allow this device do its thing. Now the same voice that a few seconds ago filled everyone ears, asks in a condescending tone “Randolf?”
“Yeah?”
“Someone is here to see you”
“Ok, be right there”

Again, the excitement of leaving pumps my muscles, making the actual action of standing up and walking a breeze, but as I turn the corner the reality that it is still to early sinks in again. Sadly now walking to the main lobby, ideas racing, who and what is this going to be?

A taller man, almost everyone is taller then me, freely taking up real state at an already limited space, pacing about, looks up from one of those tiny portable gadgets. He then utters my name “Randolf?” as per my usual disappointment I answer “Yes?” He seemed to notice the distaste that is mine, few people are aware of others body language, so this was confusing and surprising.

“Randolf, I come from XXXAI, and wondering something” A slight hint of a need comes through, I read it and reply “please, follow me to my office.”
I started walking, hoping that he would follow.
“I’m Logh McKenzie, senior software architect” comes from behind me. “We saw your Resume online”, I turn around quickly “Hush, better not let anyone know, at least not yet.”

In the inside of the office, I point to a chair that looks like it was made of the black screen doors. Once in a more relaxed situation, he picks up the monologue he had started. “You are qualified, rarely do we go chasing after candidates, but I figure if I see what we are competing against, and what the reality you are dealing with is. In other words, we get a better perspective. We don’t like the staged ‘First Impressions’, we prefer to see how accurate is the document, what the words really mean.”

“I can understand checking up on your candidates, but going to their offices, what if they are unemployed? Say fired, laid off, what not.”

“Well, it’s also good to see you, or whoever, at work, no preparation, the clothes, the desk, the interaction with others. That way everything is as usual. No fake answers, no lame questions, no biased opinions, nothing of the interview process that we have come to expect and in our case disagree with. You are you in an environment that we hope is close to a normal working one. Otherwise we see what you deal with and how it could be applied to other situations. Those who are unlucky, no job, still get an interview but already have points against them. Think about it, why don’t they have a job, there is a reason for that, so we keep that in mind, what happened to them that they don’t have one? Now, shall we do lunch?”
“Lunch?”
“Yeah, that way you meet the rest of the interviewing team, and not infringe on your work schedule.”

I look at the corner of any of the systems, so I can figure out the confusion that just came over me, seeing that it’s still 60 minutes away from my daily realization of the need to breath, eat and escape from the regular conundrum. I say “I usually take my break an hour from now, is it urgent?”
“Well, we do have to get back, but we also understand the need to keep: 1) to routine and 2) that if you don’t get the job, this company doesn’t realize about it and treat you differently, ‘punish’ if you will, so let me give them a ring, see you work for awhile and then to lunch.”

The unit of time goes by quickly, figuring that I might as well work as usual, if he likes me, great, otherwise I didn’t even know or care about this job, worst thing possible is to stay where I have been, programming code for simple applications, stupid stuff.