3.b.xii
Corporate Man
sat at the console in The Office tower lost in thought and reminiscence. Business Woman had gone back downstairs to arrange
things before the others started showing up.
He stood and went to the half moon couch, sat, and stared at the wall of
photographs nestled between the computer console and the bench seating. There was FDR after his recovery and a rare
snap shot of Jimmy Carter, barefoot, in overalls, wearing a straw hat.
A buzz from
the console brought him back to the present, and back in front of the computer
screen. A green button flashed,
signaling the incoming video transmission.
Corporate Man
pressed the button.
“Hey! See there?
I told you it was him. Hey
Corporate Man, it’s me. Bill,” said Bill
Clinton. He wore a dark red, satiny
robe. It was open in the front and an
ample amount of chest protruded, adorned with a heavy, gold chained
necklace.
“Gosh, you’re
right,” said a man stepping into frame.
Corporate Man could not understand the man’s attire.
“Al, how’s it
going? And what are you wearing?”
Corporate Man asked.
“Oh, it’s
going alright,” Al Gore said. “And this
is an Earth friendly suit made of unbleached bamboo fibers with solar panel
inlays.”
The off-white
suit had dark shoulder pads made of tiny rectangles. A chest-plate of the same material draped his
upper torso. He wore a pair of thick,
white-rimmed glasses that seemed a little too large. Light emanated from the frame, illuminating
the lenses.
“The paneling
powers these state of the art iGlasses.
I can access the internet and make calls and take pictures and face–”
“Al,” came
another voice from off camera.
“Oh, sorry,”
Al said. “We got your alert and wanted
to wish you luck. Also, we though you’d
like to meet the new Commander in Chief.
He’s a big fan of yours by the way.
This is President Obama.”
A man dressed
in red white and blue basketball uniform, circa 1976, complete with headband
and shorts that were far too short, walked into view on the screen.
“Call me
Barack,” he said. “I just want you to
know that we support your efforts. Any
assistance you can offer the country at this point would be a big help.”
“Thank you,
Mr. President.”
“Barack.”
“Barack. I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all
any of us can do,” said the President.
Corporate Man
spoke with the three men for a few more minutes, accepted Al Gore’s offer to
update the computer equipment at The Office, and then signed off.
There was
another beep from the console, this time the signal came from the rest stop
vending machine. He checked a number of
security cameras to verify that no one else was within sight of the machine and
then flipped the toggle to activate the vending machine’s intercom.
“Do you require
some assistance with your snack purchase?” Corporate Man asked.
“Only that I
wish for verification that no worker was exploited during the manufacturing of
this product, the ingredients are–”
“Junior? Is that you?” Corporate Man said,
interrupting the sequence of the password verification.
“Affirmative. But it’s Senior Executive now. I’m reporting for my shift and ready to clock
in sir.”
