Just Off Center

It's been far too long since my last post. I won't bother with excuses, because (1) I don't feel like it and (2) none of my readers care to read it anyway. However, there have been some circumstances lately that have given me pause with the whole blogging thing. No, nobody has discovered my blog that I didn't want to know about it. In fact I try to just tell it to people. That way I just skip straight to the proof of whether or not they are friends or just whiny little pussies who can't take a joke.

I was in Ft. Wayne IN on business for the past couple weeks. I absolutely love doing these site implementations. It's especially fun when someone gets all shitty with me for being there and starts cussing me out. I'm getting good at taking the bile from their miserable lives. At any rate it was me and two executives from our Atlanta base, one of them being our President and CEO. We went out for dinner at Joe's Crab Shack and talked about many things. One of the major topics of conversation was books. Apparently our CEO is an avid reader and was spouting title after title of recommendations. This is annoying as hell to me because I don't read books but rarely. However I feigned some interest in whatever gibberish he was campaigning for, to which he responded with "Hey, let's all go to Borders after dinner!"

Fuck. I fucking hate bookstores. The books are all over priced, they always have one of those bullshit coffee shoppes in them, and they're jam packed with every trite, popular rag on the planet. Case in point, they had more romance novels than educational, more bibles than dictionaries, and more desk calendars than anything. So I'm roaming around trying to make good use of the time by thumbing through the movies for sale and generally strolling the isles. After about ten minutes I got a call on my mobile from Bob, the general manager of the plant I work at. He never calls me unless he has good reason, and usually when the reason is based in my having done something wrong. So I'm nervous before I even answer the call.

After the obligatory minute of casual conversation about how things are going out in Ft. Wayne, he dives in tot he reason he called. He asks me when I'm getting back. He wants to schedule some time with me for a "talk". I can tell by his inflections that something is seriously wrong. I tell him that I'm not going to be back in Phoenix for nearly two weeks and if he doesn't at least give me a clue as to what is up, I'll be a nervous wreck my entire time here. He tells me that he got a call from our sponsor (the employee at the plant that contracts us out who acts as liaison between his company and ours) who told him that Internet Security Services has identified several employees within my company who have been "visiting inappropriate or offensive sites" and that our image has been damaged as a result. My name is on the list.

This is bad. I know that several people who have been busted for doing shit that they shouldn't with the company bandwidth have been walked out by security that same day. It's a week before Christmas, Nina's just been turned down by Social Security and Long Term Disability, and is still unable to work (yet is doing this goddamned paper route every night). This is definitely one of the worst times possible for me to get canned. I nearly choke on the request for more information about how this will "affect my role". Bob tells me that I won't get fired, but that it is a very serious matter and it will need to be dealt with. He tells me to put it out of my mind (yeah right) and just do good work out here in Indiana. He'll schedule a meeting for when I get back.

I feel relieved that Bob specifically told me that I'm not going to be fired. And knowing that I am not the only offender gives me some security as well. Then I start to wonder, what the hell have I been doing on the Internet that's so wrong? I don't download porn, or visit porn sites. I don't visit sites with any political or religious agenda (much). The worst thing I have done is pump various key words and phrases into Google just to see what pops up. You'd be surprised what hits you get when you search for "buttfucker jackoff". No, actually you wouldn't. But I've also searched for things like "coffee blends" and "stray dogs". It's completely random and I haven't done it in months. Regardless, I have now identified a potential offense on my part and I'm stressing. I begin pacing the bookstore.

A few minutes later I see that our CEO is in the checkout line with a couple books, and is on the phone. Using my super perfect vision I am able to read his lips and make out the words "Bob", "Internet" and "God damnit". Now it occurs to me that just because Bob said I wasn't getting fired doesn't mean I won't. After all, a CEO does tend to pull more weight than one of his employees. After check out he goes over to the coffee bar to buy a mocha and some biscotti. He offers to buy one for me, which I respectfully decline on approach. As I get within earshot of his muffled voice I hear him talking over the situation with Dennis, the other guy from HQ. He doesn't seem to know the names of the offenders yet, but he is definitely aware of the situation. He says point blank that he'll "fire them without a second thought". I nearly faint.

In the car ride back tot he hotel, I'm driving the rental and the CEO is in the passenger seat. His phone rings again. He says "holy shit." I just know that he's realizing that there are several of us. He gets a stone face and turns his head a few degrees in my direction, casting a glare in my general direction. He knows I'm one of them. With no doubt left in my mind I feel as though I am marching to the scaffold, having accepted the inevitable. We get back to the hotel and as I depart to the elevator he stays down in the lobby on the phone. I get no sleep that night. I wonder what other jobs are out there for me. Am I willing to sell the house and move? How long do I look before I just take the first thing that comes along? Would the honorable thing be to just resign? It was one of the most restless and worrisome night in memory.

The next day goes by without incident. Our CEO departs back to Atlanta, without so much as looking at me. This is not good at all. I'm hoping to make management with this company. I need to, so that I can apply for a management job in the future with experience under my belt. Now my image in the company is that of an Internet offender. And I STILL don't know what the hell I've done wrong. I try to put it aside as instructed and just do good work. Bob sends out an all hands urgent memo requiring everyone in the region to read and respond that we have read all of the policies on Internet usage. I have a meeting set up for Wednesday, 12/29 at 11:00. That's a day off, but I'm not about to argue.

All this time I have kept this whole thing from my wife. In case anyone hasn't noticed, Nina has been....well... let's just say overwhelmed as of late. Worrying that I might be fired before New Years may well send her over the edge. So I wait until Tuesday afternoon to tell her about it. I explain what's going on, and that I don't know what I did wrong. I apologize for the secrecy and explain my reasons. She is very understanding of the whole thing, for which I am very grateful.

The next morning, I take Nina's car, and a list of things to do since I'm in town anyway, and go to face the music. I've always had a great fear of discipline. It's probably because it was never necessary. As a boy, whenever I'd do something bad, I always felt genuine regret and sorrow. Spankings and the like weren't necessary, so I never got hardened to punishment like many other men I know. But I'm also not going to pussy out and start crying or anything. I did it (whatever "it" is) and I intend to take my counseling like a man. When I get to Bob's office, he already has my counseling form filled out and ready to sign. He greets me with a smile and a handshake, and we briefly discuss the potential benefits and obstacles of the Ft. Wayne contract.

He then tells me that everyone on our side and the contracting company's side is ready to just put this behind us. The form is filled out in very strong language, which he explains as mandatory for such an offense. I sign the form and am handed a copy of the policies regarding Internet usage to read. And there it is, under the heading of "inappropriate usage":

8. Creating, maintaining, or visiting a personal website, such as a weblog.

My blog? This is all about my fucking blog? I've been wondering if I'm gonna be publicly shamed unemployed because of my affinity for blogging?!?!?! I am both relieved and pissed. So now I know that I'm not going to be fired and I can talk about why I got nailed without fear of sounding like a pervert. But I also know that my image has been hurt in the company and should I ever allow this to happen again, I will definitely be gone. So that's it for blogging at work, which really sucks because nearly every post I've ever written has been at my desk. It's my element. Outside of the office, I just can't get the words out. Well I guess I've overcome that dilemma today. Jesus, this is a long one. But it still sucks.

So, in conclusion, I will try to keep the content rolling here on this, my only effective creative outlet. But there may be longer lapses between posts. If this is a problem for you, blow me. I'm not getting fired just so you can get your daily dose of "wisdom by Michael". I've got a gimp Ukranian wife and three cats to support.