While Damron is off trying to make sense of it all with the Sorceress, Rudy, Harriet and Warren reminisce about the early days.
Work That Skirt was probably the most fun chapter to write. I made the scenes with The Sorceress progressively more, um, intimate for the primary purpose of making the real Sorceress blush when she read it. I was on the phone with the Sorceress having the discussion when Simon came to the door of the Atlanta Eagle conference room. After Simon departed, the second half of the conversation was a text message exchange.
In revisions, I added the fishnet stockings/garters bit again for the purpose of embarrassing the real Sorceress. Although it breaks the wall between my ‘dream sequence’ interactions with the Sorceress, I think it serves well to make light of what was in fact a very tense conversation. Simon seemed pretty angry and definitely gave me the impression that we both knew that I outfoxed them – originally I used the ‘spiking the football’ sentence again here – but I didn’t want to imply anything I didn’t know for a fact (and surely Simon would deny it). I haven’t spoken to Simon since that conversation, which occurred on Friday, January 25, 2019.
I was comfortable saying he was surprised and bewildered and decided to leave it at that. I still find it hard to believe how unprofessional Simon and his partners were about the situation. Shadow of the Leader, I suppose. Culture…. Until Harriet came onto their radar, Simon had been among those in the office of which I thought the best. I should’ve trusted my instincts more than I did, and though a hollow victory is better than defeat, I made too many Aspergian mistakes (and first-time manager mistakes) to keep Harriet in the fold.
I made a compromise proposal to Simon, which seemed amenable to him, that was shot down by The MP via Vernon. That The MP would quash any outcome that would be mutually beneficial to Simon, Vernon, and me, really any outcome that would be at all beneficial to me, made sense and would be consistent with everything else. I wrote the scene, but I wasn’t completely sure of Vernon’s or Simon’s motives, so I left out that part.
If I had a gun for every ace I have drawn, I could arm a town the size of Abilene Don’t you push me baby, cause I’m all alone And you know I’m only in it for the gold All that I am asking for is ten gold dollars And I could pay you back with one good hand You can look around about the wide world over And you’ll never find another honest man. Last fair deal in the country Last fair deal in the town Put your gold dollars where your love is baby Before I let my deal go down Don’t you push me baby, cause I’m all alone Well I know a little something you might never know Don’t you touch our liquor, just a cup of cold coffee Gonna wake up in the morning and go Everybody bragging and drinking that wine I can tell the Queen of Diamonds by the way she shines Come to papa on the inside straight Well I got no chance of losin’ this time
Loser was the second piece of the story I wrote after I finished the first draft of the chapters dealing with Jane’s complaint and Tania in HR. The final product bears little resemblance to that first draft. At the time, I still grappled with making sense of it all, having given little thought to the meeting when it happened. With each revision, I recalled more details. I recalled being extremely nervous, but on the other hand I was indifferent to the MP’s sham inquiry and its purpose. Squaring those memories took intense introspection, and I had no notes of the encounter – I had no way of knowing its significance at the time, and I had no reason to write down notes of what happened because I knew that telling Tania in HR about it would accomplish nothing.
Eventually, my mind resolved the paradox. I was nervous because I was dealing with an unstable person, but indifferent because I knew I had done nothing wrong. I can only imagine what transpired outside of my purview that emboldened Colonel Bermudez himself to insert himself into what was, in my view, an irrelevant, albeit amusing, aside. Someday I will have to find out.
Froze to the bone in my igloo home Counting the days ’til the ice turns green You know when heaven and hell collide There are no in-betweens Flames on your skin of snow turn cold Cold is the wind that blows through my headstone Collecting the bones of my friend tonight Sowing the seeds in a fruitless land You know when prayers all hit the ground There is no higher hand I’m the yo-yo man, always up and down So take me to the end of your tether
The idea that ‘it could be they had no idea any of that happened’ also came to me during the writing, not at the time. As I recalled and wrote each vignette for the various members of the shellfish gang (office brokers, I believe I already mentioned), I realized it was theoretically possible, even Jane. However, Tania in HR may have called Jane and told her nothing other than ‘Damron was instructed to have no further contact with you, and I suggest you do likewise.’ Anything outside my purview on that little ditty, unlike the Harriet fiasco, I have no desire to know. As for all the others, nobody’s demeanor changed, and nobody ever brought up their respective incident with me, before, during, or after.
The name of each “non-Superbad-Skeazy-Ratchet” member of The LC has a special meaning for me and was chosen specifically for that person. There’s a pattern, of course. The n-S-S-R LC members were all wonderful to work with.
The circumstances of Nice Girls, which led me to make the conclusion I made in the footnote, leaves out one very important detail: the meeting with Vernon and Colonel Bermudez in Loser actually occurred on Wednesday, January 30, 2019, which was between my first talk with Harriet in my office (Monday, January 28, 2019) and the second talk when she seemed distant, etc. (Friday, February 1, 2019). I gather that the MP’s ‘fact finding’ led him to Harriet after the lovely encounter with me, and he then told her I was The Office Creep, certainly embellished to the effect of how lucky she was for somehow escaping with her chasteness intact. Though complete conjecture on my part, I can’t think of a reason it couldn’t be true. Other possibilities exist though; no doubt about that.
Jigsaw man where have you gone? Melted into morning Don’t believe in don’t belong Death-defying dawnings Vibor blue The have-nots and the have-to’s The frozen chosen few Destined to see it through Born to vibor blue Vibor blue The have-nots and the have, too The frozen chosen few Are here to take us through Gateway vibor blue Vibor blue The have-nots and the have-to’s The frozen chosen few Are here to take us, too So is vibor blue Destined to see it through Born to vibor blue
Cream of the Strange is the ‘step back and speak to what it’s all about’ scene of The Strange Remain. I wrote dialogue of the long conversations between Summer and me, but I deleted them out of respect for her privacy. I probably could’ve written three or four more chapters about the aftermath of Harriet and Warren’s departures, but the confrontations with Simon and The MP were the clear midpoint of The Strange Remain. The change in Harriet’s demeanor (Nice Girls) and Warren’s departure (Opportunity Cost) is the clear “all is lost” moment. Now I’m 95% of the way through the story. Wrap it up for God’s sake!
I left in the ‘Do It Clean’ vignette about Winston, though, because Winston is a terrific guy, and I never told him what it meant to me that he was interested in joining my team (or at least talking about it). I also wanted to be fair to Vernon – he at least tried to do right by Winston. From what I have heard, Winston is doing well. I’m happy for that.
Especially juxtaposed with Vernon’s other ‘subordinate,’ namely Damron, you see how different the treatment. This isn’t a knock on Vernon, but merely demonstrates that with respect to me, Vernon was doing as he was instructed, no more, no less. I deleted that observation from Do It Clean, however, because I wanted to give Vernon credit where credit is due. But he is a patsy.
You walk into the room With your pencil in your hand You see somebody naked And you, you say, “Who is that man?” You try so hard But you don’t understand Just what you will say When you get home Because something is happening here But you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You raise up your head And you ask, “Is this where it is?” And somebody points to you and says “It’s his” And you say, “What’s mine?” And somebody else says, “Well what is?” And you say, “Oh my God Am I here all alone?” But something is happening And you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You hand in your ticket and you go watch the geek Who immediately walks up to you When he hears you speak And says, “How does it feel To be such a freak?” And you say, “Impossible” as he hands you a bone And something is happening here But you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? You have many contacts Among the lumberjacks To get you facts When someone attacks your imagination But nobody has any respect Anyway they already expect you To all give a check To tax-deductible charity organizations You’ve been with the professors and they’ve all liked your looks With great lawyers you have discussed lepers and crooks You’ve been through all of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s books You’re very well read It’s well known But something is happening here And you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you and then he kneels He crosses himself and then he clicks his high heels And without further notice he asks you how it feels And he says, “Here is your throat back, thanks for the loan” And you know something is happening But you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Now you see this one-eyed midget Shouting the word “NOW” And you say, “For what reason?” And he says, “How?” And you say, “What does this mean?” And he screams back, “You’re a cow. Give me some milk or else go home” And you know something’s happening But you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones? Well, you walk into the room like a camel and then you frown You put your eyes in your pocket and your nose on the ground There ought to be a law against you comin’ around You should be made to wear earphones Because something is happening And you don’t know what it is Do you, Mister Jones?
Leverage took a long time to boil down to what remains of it. In fact, arranging the scenes from Whammy Kiss to Leverage was difficult when it wasn’t tedious. As on several other occasions, I had The Sorceress handy to break up the spots where the exposition ran long but a set piece would’ve run far longer. A handy thing to have around when you need one, The Sorceress. Good lookin’, too.
I mentioned earlier that the scene Grim Anniversaries, now in Chapter 6 (Gravity) was the opening scene in early drafts. Wishing to mirror the opening and closing scenes, note the similarity between how Damron exits the building using the same route at the end of Mature and Complete. Grim Anniversaries and Mature and Complete still mirror one another in this respect – first scene/last scene, Damron departs the building via the exact same route, but with a different destination.
The very last edit to the story was among the most important. By ‘very last,’ I’m talking after ‘final’ editing and formatting, literally a day or two before publication.
I had named the Vernon character Varmint (explained in the comments to Man of Peace, earlier) but decided before editing to change the name. I changed Varmint’s name to “Jones.” I knew Ballad of a Thin Man would be the name of the final chapter, so Varmint became Jones, as in ‘something is happening but you don’t know what it is.’ I.e., Vernon wasn’t aware of my disability disclosure to the company, but the MP wanted me gone because I had Asperger’s and had caused the MP to endure massive inconvenience because I moved across the hall to the Doghouse.
When the book was all but finished, about ready to hit “publish” on Amazon, it hit me.
Notwithstanding Sandra in HR’s knowledge and Vernon’s lack of a clue (or willing collaboration), all kinds of things had happened to Damron, but he wouldn’t know what it is, because of Asperger’s, a narcissist boss, or a heaping helping of naivete.
Vernon wasn’t Mr. Jones, I was Mr. Jones.
The lyrics and the meaning behind them was identifying Damron, not Vernon.
Earlier that day, my Dad had mentioned a story about his longtime friend, Vernon, who I remember from childhood. I did a global search of “Jones” and replaced the name with “Vernon.” With that change made, the final edit of the manuscript was in the middle of Chapter 1 (bottom of page 9 in the paperback). After Jane introduces herself, Damron responds: “Yes indeed. I’m Damron Jones.”
We then published, and for whatever reason, maybe that divine intervention that seems to save me from time to time, the final edit “straightened the spine” of the story in my mind. I know this because the change gave me a weird feeling that’s impossible to describe but you know it when it happens—that closure feeling. That closure feeling is a good feeling, indeed.
Stake my future on a hell of a past Looks like tomorrow is a coming on fast Ain’t complaining about what I got Seen better times but who has not. Silvio silver and gold Won’t buy back the beat of a heart grown cold Silvio I gotta go Find out something only dead men know. Honest as the next jade rolling that stone When I come and knockin’ don’t throw me no bone I’m an old boll weevil looking for a home If you don’t like it you can leave me alone. I can snap my fingers and require the rain From a clear blue sky and turn it off again I can stroke your body and relieve your pain And charm the whistle off an evening train. Give what I got until I got no more I take what I get until I even the score You know I love you and further more When it is time to go you got an open door. I can tell your fancy I can tell your plain You give something up for ev’rything you gain Since ev’ry pleasure’s got an edge of pain Pay for your ticket and don’t complain. One of these days and it won’t be long Going down the valley and sing my song I will sing it loud and sing it strong Let the echo decide if I was right or wrong.
After forty chapters, with all of that being said, the story wasn’t over, and still isn’t over, but Silvio is all fun and games. The only things true in the epilogue are (a) the company did win ‘best places to work’ shortly after I was fired, (b) Rudy picked up the check for lunch, (c) Vernon told Rudy my firing was a decision of the Leadership Council, and (d) Vernon told Summer that she was ‘totally unqualified….’
Initially, the final chapters were about the conversations between Summer and me mentioned in Cream of the Strange. “Mirror scenes” of my dialogue with Jane, Claire, The Sorceress, Penelope, Warren, etc. (you see some remains of this dialogue in the scene with Rudy at the last day’s lunch). When Summer agreed to replace Warren, I knew then how she and I would each be the other’s ‘mentor and confidant,’ just in different areas of work life. The ending was really sweet, I thought, but I cut all of it.
Summer did quit the company a few weeks after my departure, but she was persuaded by the MP to come back, and her departure was considered a leave of absence, I think. After Summer returned to the company, she never responded to my e-mails/texts again, or messages sent via Phinizy that I was hoping to get in touch with her. I didn’t try very hard to reach her, however, because I realized what had happened. Just like Harriet, I never heard from her again. Wonder why. There was nothing I could do but rewrite the ending.
A sad conclusion to an otherwise uplifting story, but I envisioned the story to begin on Day 1 and end on the final day, March 1, 2019. The end of the story couldn’t be sour, and the end of my days with the Company was inspiring to me because of the incredible kindness I received from those who found out, or I told, prior to that final day, and everything that has happened since then.
My days after the end of BPTW have been trials of many kinds, as always. The story of BPTW isn’t over, and if it’s interesting, and I can make it entertaining, I’ll write it. Because if you had to live it, you get to write it, right?
Best Places To Work! 