Inhuman Resources
Predator Press
[Mr. Insanity]
Dr. Keller released me after only a few days, and Ethan had Rosalyn Gates --Hawly Enterprises' Human Resources Director-- pick me up from Bertram.
I immediately think I'm getting fired. Could be for anything from the bad PR, being "institutionalized", to increasing insurance liability.
But if I'm getting fired, I'm getting fired behind the wheel, dammit. Besides, Rosalyn drives a spiff new Mustang I want to check out.
Reluctantly, she gets into the passenger side of her own car, and I peel out of the hospital parking lot.
***
Rosalyn looks different in natural light. A fit and attractive woman in maybe her early forties, she's always smiling and friendly, but now I see how that has worn on her over the years: she looks like a woman who is psychotically sick to death of smiling and being friendly.
An uncomfortable silence ensues.
"What's this all about?" I finally ask, pushing 110 on I-65.
"Well, we received some rather alarming complaints from you," she grins readily, "and wanted to discuss them."
"That slut Babs has to go," I says. "Period."
"But there is no basis for her termination," beams Rosalyn. "In fact, she has been nothing but an exemplary employee."
"No basis?" I demand. "She's slept with 45% of the entire staff!"
My Blackberry tones, and I twist it on my belt so I can read the screen.
"Make that 49%," I says.
"Well, I certainly understand your concern," soothes Rosalyn in her well-rehearsed optimism. "But Mr Hawly has considered Sexual Harassment a frivolous matter ever since he started sleeping with Phoebe this August."
"I'm telling you, this bitch is trouble with a capital ... What!?!"
Police sirens. They're right behind me.
Fuck.
"You got any pens?" I demand.
"What?" smiles Rosalyn.
"Peeeeennnnzzzzz!" I repeat slowly, like I'm talking to a retard.
"Well, yes--"
"Throw them out the window."
She pauses, charmingly bewildered.
"Now!" I command, slowing to pull over.
***
I watch the cop saunter up slowly, thumbs in belt, through the rearview. He's already filling out the rather spectacular speeding ticket. I roll down the window as he approaches.
"Any idea why I pulled you over there Richard Petty?" he says condescendingly.
"No idea whatsoever, Officer," I says, picking my nose ferociously.
"I have you on radar doing over 110 in a 65 mile per hou--"
The cop freezes momentarily as he sees my finger working an emerald mine, wiping the nuggets on the steering wheel.
After a second of thought, he closes the small tablet. "So I'm giving you a verbal warning," he says.
"Thanks," I says.
Rosalyn pukes cheerfully on her own floorboard as we peel out again ...
[Mr. Insanity]
Dr. Keller released me after only a few days, and Ethan had Rosalyn Gates --Hawly Enterprises' Human Resources Director-- pick me up from Bertram.
I immediately think I'm getting fired. Could be for anything from the bad PR, being "institutionalized", to increasing insurance liability.
But if I'm getting fired, I'm getting fired behind the wheel, dammit. Besides, Rosalyn drives a spiff new Mustang I want to check out.
Reluctantly, she gets into the passenger side of her own car, and I peel out of the hospital parking lot.
Rosalyn looks different in natural light. A fit and attractive woman in maybe her early forties, she's always smiling and friendly, but now I see how that has worn on her over the years: she looks like a woman who is psychotically sick to death of smiling and being friendly.
An uncomfortable silence ensues.
"What's this all about?" I finally ask, pushing 110 on I-65.
"Well, we received some rather alarming complaints from you," she grins readily, "and wanted to discuss them."
"That slut Babs has to go," I says. "Period."
"But there is no basis for her termination," beams Rosalyn. "In fact, she has been nothing but an exemplary employee."
"No basis?" I demand. "She's slept with 45% of the entire staff!"
My Blackberry tones, and I twist it on my belt so I can read the screen.
"Make that 49%," I says.
"Well, I certainly understand your concern," soothes Rosalyn in her well-rehearsed optimism. "But Mr Hawly has considered Sexual Harassment a frivolous matter ever since he started sleeping with Phoebe this August."
"I'm telling you, this bitch is trouble with a capital ... What!?!"
Police sirens. They're right behind me.
Fuck.
"You got any pens?" I demand.
"What?" smiles Rosalyn.
"Peeeeennnnzzzzz!" I repeat slowly, like I'm talking to a retard.
"Well, yes--"
"Throw them out the window."
She pauses, charmingly bewildered.
"Now!" I command, slowing to pull over.
I watch the cop saunter up slowly, thumbs in belt, through the rearview. He's already filling out the rather spectacular speeding ticket. I roll down the window as he approaches.
"Any idea why I pulled you over there Richard Petty?" he says condescendingly.
"No idea whatsoever, Officer," I says, picking my nose ferociously.
"I have you on radar doing over 110 in a 65 mile per hou--"
The cop freezes momentarily as he sees my finger working an emerald mine, wiping the nuggets on the steering wheel.
After a second of thought, he closes the small tablet. "So I'm giving you a verbal warning," he says.
"Thanks," I says.
Rosalyn pukes cheerfully on her own floorboard as we peel out again ...
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