folded over and cinched together at the waist, like he couldn’t find jeans small enough to fit him. And he isn’t just bald. He’s really bald. He must have started losing his hair in high school. I picture Rob as an ostracized teenager.
“Nothing much,” I say, gazing at him sympathetically now.
“Those sales monkeys are filling my Inbox with requests for the marketing collateral. You’re going to have that by the end of the week, right?”
I blink at him. I’ve actually encountered a bit of a snafu, and I haven’t updated him yet. “Well, the feature information you gave me to include doesn’t quite match up with the engineering specifications I saw.”
Rob waves his hand at me. “Talk to Karthik,” he says dismissively. He can’t be bothered with the engineering specifics. He’s above details.
“Did you see The Bachelor last night?” he asks before launching into a rehashed version of last night’s show. Apparently, one of the women took off her panties and handed them to the bachelor by way of an introduction. I’m not embarrassed to admit that I have seen the show. I do watch my fair share of television, but I missed the panty episode. After relaying the details and receiving appropriately shocked responses from me, Rob moves on to discuss the merits of the panty handshake with other employees.
I have already emailed Karthik Singh, the engineering lead Rob was referring to, but he hasn’t responded. I will likely have to hunt him down for an answer. Karthik is easy to work with, but a bit hard to pin down. He’s the brightest engineer at BTS Systems. As such, he is harried and overworked and always looking disheveled and exhausted. I send another email to Karthik attempting to politely schedule a time in advance to chat before I am forced to ambush him. Then I buckle down and spend the next few hours responding to emails before an item marked Urgent lands in my Inbox. Bryn always marks her emails as urgent. “Meet me at Starbucks. I need your level head for a few minutes.”
Bryn works about four blocks away. There is a Starbucks halfway between our offices. I grab my wallet and mute my music.
“Early lunch,” Joan comments.
I smile, not bothering to correct her as I breeze by on my way to the elevators.
It’s a beautiful summer day. The air is still and warm, smelling only slightly of car exhaust fumes. Working in Cambridge provides an endless number of restaurants, parks, and coffee spots to visit when you need a break during the day. Bryn and I usually meet at Starbucks a few times during the week. Soon the bright summer days will give way to heavy grey skies and the unwelcome fall chill. So, I’m happy for any excuse to be outside.
Bryn is already there when I arrive. I get in line behind her. “What’s up?”
She rolls her eyes at me. “My boss hates me.”
This is a common theme for our coffee meetings. Bryn is slightly shorter and a lot rounder than me, despite always claiming to be on a diet. She works in high-tech as well, as a database administrator for a biotech company. Standing there together in our shorts, T-shirts, and sneakers, you would never know that we’re in the middle of a workday. We order frappuccinos and take them to the metal tables on the outside patio.
“I just saw my review,” Bryn says, brushing at her chair with a napkin before landing on it dejectedly.
I suck up a cold jolt of caffeine, squint from the brain freeze shock, and peer at her--waiting for the rest.
“She gave me an average rating. Again. Which means no salary increase. Again.” She plays with her straw dejectedly.
Bryn has been at this job for about three years, the same time-frame for which I have been at mine, except I have received raises and promotions. I can’t understand why she stays. When first hired, she’d done very well. Then her manager left, and an “evil” new one was brought in, completely stalling her career.
“Was there any reason given for your rating?” I ask.
“Not really. There is a section listing Areas to work on. It was blank.”
“Average is better than poor? Right?”
She glares at me.
“Can you talk to her about it? Ask her what the story is? Aren’t managers supposed to meet with you about your review?”
She shrugs. “What’s the point? She hates me. I’m doing the same quality of work I did when my other manager was there, and he