Change at Jamaica Station

Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Geraldine and Her J.O.B.                          2018 Time Warner Center, NY

"Deadlines people!" I shout to the room of two hundred people in the Educational Auditorium on the sixty fifth floor of the north tower at Time Warner Center. Most everyone has a cup of coffee in one hand, and a flier with a list of pharmaceutical drugs in the other hand. They stare and study the drugs in one column, and their numbers in another column. As our usual bi-monthly meetings, they have been seated in this position since 8:45am. Most have a plate of half-eaten egg salad and fruit, or the remains of a bagel at their feet, while a few loiter in the back still eating quickly from the breakfast buffet provided. It's almost 11:30, and I am the last of the morning speakers, the anchor.

"You can't meet your sales quotas if you ignore the deadlines because of a holiday! Columbus Day was a four-day weekend for most of you last month, and many of you take the day after Halloween off. Why is that? Can't you multitask?" I look directly at one of the young men, Ross with a coke problem, today in a Club Monaco suit in the first row, a fellow Trekkie. He nods and we smile at each other.

"I can't here you, Ross, can you multitask?" I ask again and put a hand up to my ear.

The room, all two hundred reply as one, "Yes, we can multitask." They are accustomed to these motivational pow wows and know if they don't yell early in morning, we will make them repeat it, ask them to yell more, until well after lunch.

"Glad to hear your alive on a Monday morning. We need to get the numbers back in place before the end of the year. Seriously, people, you have all the support in the world here, can you just do your jobs? Viaperk is the only thing you ever sell anymore! Try another tactic. Harry will be giving a seminar on other sales techniques this afternoon, at two, in this very room, particularly for Phenadoz. We will be flooding the market with ads so please, let's coordinate our sales pitches for prescription antihistamines with our storyline in the ads. I strongly suggest everyone in this office, even if your numbers are good, we need to go out there and stay on target, so we can win that trip Cancun! All right, let's get to it. There are signup sheets in the back for two other sales techniques seminars this week on the back table. Get your name on at least one. Thank you for your time, party people!" I raise two hands above my head and make one fist. I look up at the fist, knowing that most of the room assumes I'm praying, when I am saying to myself, "Beam me up, Scotty."

Two hundred Mercy Pharmaceutical employees clap loudly as they stand, some high fiving, some leaving quickly as they are headed for two martini lunches downtown. There is a long line queuing in the hallway for the bathrooms, but many are just off to their desks, many more off for the cafeteria. A large group heads to the elevator banks that lead outside, to smoke, to pop pills, and many will grab a bite on the way to visit clients, doctors mostly, some to pharmacists.

"That was great, Gerri. I know you can get the numbers back up again. Here is the report that you asked for about the rise in opioid addiction. I summarized it for you on the opening page. It doesn't look good." Barbara Hampton was hired right out of Princeton; polite, punctual, formal but accessible, and a great team player. In her thirties, in a conservative black dress, short brown hair always pinned back in a cute way behind her ears, I know Barbara is one of the main reasons my job, which is basically my whole life, is manageable. That and looking at Paul, my personal assistant, stand to make copies outside my office. He trains at Barry's Bootcamp every morning before work, and I'm thrilled about it. If it were up to me, the company would pay for everyone's gym membership if Paul's backside is anything to go on.

"Barb, I have a mad meeting with the Boss man, who is on a rampage, at the moment. Can you give me the synapses, please." I ask rubbing my temples. Without missing a beat, Barbara looks at the cover page she has prepared for just that question, and begins to read, filling in with her own comments.