6.k.
“Where’d you
get your clothes?” Business Woman asked as Supply approached the rest of the Union ,
clad in here trademark mauve and purple.
“One of these
people bought it at an interoffice clothing store,” Supply said. She gestured toward a glass door. Through it, on the other side of the hallway
and down a few paces, was the entrance to Dress For Success.
The Union
went over to the clothing store and found a rack containing the rest of their
suits and business attire. Corporate Man
didn’t intend to pay for the stolen merchandise but Senior Executive advised
that it would be easier on everyone and offered up a credit card. He insisted that Fair Wage pick out a pair of
boxers or even briefs. Anything that
would create an under layer.
A mob of
angry, half naked, office workers greeted the Union as
they left Dress For Success.
“So that’s
your plan,” one of the mob said. “Trick
us all into non-compliant attire.”
“You’re trying
to get us fired!”
“Hey, hey!”
said a fully dressed twenty-sixth floor employee as he ran up to the gathering
crowd. “I traced the e-mails. Nothing
about Underpants Tuesday came from any of the higher ups.”
“Oh I see it
now. We all get the ax and these guys
take over our positions.”
Corporate Man
smiled and adjusted his tie. “Actually,
we’re needed in another department on a different floor. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
The half-naked
office workers puzzled over this as Corporate Man and the Union
walked away.
“I don’t
believe him,” one of the mob said. “They
were in here checking out their new offices.
Calling dibs on cubicles.”
“Or signing
contracts that would move our division to some other sector.”
“Yeah. Like this ‘another department’ he was talking
about.”
“Let’s get
‘em!” someone yelled and they charged down the hallway just as the Union
was opening a door that led into a non-descript hallway.
Corporate Man
spun around, glared at them, and said, “Did any of you clock out?”
They stopped.
After a moment
one of them said, “What do you mean?”
“You can’t abandon
your station and go storming out of the office.
That’s a waste of company time.
Management would not approve.”
The mob of dress-code violators looked at
each other, confusion and fear reflected in all of their eyes. They scattered, like a flock of birds, and
sped off to their cubicles to log out of the system.
Meanwhile, the
Union slipped out of the office and disappeared down the
non-descript hallway.
