GregClarkin.com Posts

It was dusk and the vehicle, if that’s what you’d call it, was sitting outside our house. It was a short, squat box-like thing with a splashy paint job and some logo I couldn’t make out. Then again I was behind the couch peering out through a half-inch wide slit in the drapes.

I glanced up and down the street to see if there was any interest in it. None. A couple of kids had been by ten minutes ago and made a fuss over it, but no one since then. I went across the hall to the dining room to take a look at it from another angle. As soon as I did, the thing backed up slowly, like it was tracking me. 

It was quickly turning into the most confusing company picnic in the history of company picnics. I was sure this was not what the founders of these picnics had in mind.

That first get-together was probably with workers at a small business, maybe somewhere in the midwest. They gathered for an afternoon of relaxation, had a few drinks, played a few games, maybe horseshoes. Afterwards everyone agreed it was a lovely time, and just like that a new tradition was born.

The hulking metal towers were clustered outside behind the big box store, off to the side of the loading dock. The senior most tower tried to calm the fears of the rest of the group, but it was quickly becoming a losing proposition.

“I know it’s cold out here at night, but listen, we all need to keep our composure, okay?” the tower said, “we’re going to be okay.”

The question was simple enough, but no one was willing to go first and answer it. Around the table we all sat, looking at Roz and shooting glances at each other. Even Suck-Up Andy was quiet. I was pretty sure that was a first.

Roz made eye contact with each of us, her way of letting us know she was serious, and this was dire. But we knew that already. She was making an appearance in the office, one of her few since the pandemic began. 

We gathered in the parking lot of section D at the mall. Wilson and I were among the first to arrive, wanting to make a good impression and beat Suck-Up Andy to the event. Roz was here when we pulled in, chipper at nine a.m. and encouraging everyone to have a cup of coffee from the little station she had set up in the back of her SUV.

It was Give Back Day, one of her initiatives for employees to get involved and make a difference in the local community. In years past, we picked up litter in a park and painted a fence at a senior center, but no one was really sure what was on tap for today.

Wilson walked into my office dressed for, well I’m not exactly sure what he was dressed for, but he was a sight. Blue jeans, a plaid flannel shirt, yellow hard hat, safety googles, with a face shield over that, along with work boots, and a tool belt.

I sat back and took it all in. He stared back at me like there was nothing unusual about the getup.