I remember working at a restaurant as a dishwasher, there were two dishwashers in their 40s who had been dishwashers since they were in their teens. But the dishwashers would go into deep conversations about which dishwashers were best, how to best wash dishes, how to best mop the floor at night. They were fucking serious about dishwashing. They believed in dishwashing.
This is the truth, this is my truth, this is what I believe, this is what I act on, my frame of reference, this is where my logic is derived. I can’t do it. I just feel things, I know I feel things, I know that I don’t make judgments but feel something and then act on it. I can’t use logic concerning my feelings, my feelings demand musical notes, violins, guitar solos, the stomping of feet, poetic language, metaphors, poetic lines about birds or deserts or tree-crowded forests.
I read Sherwood Burke’s thoughts. I wasn’t like him. I wasn’t so alienated and gloomy about life. I didn’t mind taking orders as long as they were orders that I felt had reason behind them. I didn’t mind working at restaurants, I didn’t mind my professors asking for a stupid amount of citations for a five page paper. I didn’t mind my parents. I went to holiday events and felt in general bored, but I still wanted to hear how my cousin Pete liked being in the Navy. I didn’t mind helping my dad do yard work. It all seemed fine. The whole world was covered in games, evolution was a game, ecosystems were basically a game that the plants and animals had to figure out how to play. Why would my life be any different?
I looked through the notebook some more. I found pages and hand-drawn maps on the Civil War of Julius Caesar, on the empire of Attila the Hun, Genghis Khan, the early Ottoman Empire and the March of General Sherman. The maps were perfectly drawn out from memory. Notes were written on all of their empires and their strategic methods. Then there were over twenty maps of America. On one map a numbered dot signified every military installation in the inner forty-eight, what type of installation, if it was Marine, Air Force, Army or Navy, how many troops were there and what capabilities it had. Then there were maps of battle plans with lines drawn all over the inner forty-eight. It looked crazy. I started to think Sherwood Burke had lost his mind.
Cafeteria
Every day the residents had lunch. Because the residents were criminals, a guard had to watch them eat and make sure that they took the correct amount of food.
The cafeteria was small with thirty round tables and five chairs at each table.
On that day the residents were having hamburgers and green beans.
There were two pictures above the meal line demonstrating how the food should be placed on the plate. The hamburger patty had to on the plate next to the two buns. The ketchup had to go on another part of the plate. The burger was not allowed to be made for the sake of efficiency. I had to stand by the buffet and yell at the residents if they made their burger and didn’t follow directions.
Everything went fine until Joe Newsome tried making his hamburger while still in line. “Joe,” I said, “you can’t make your burger. You have to bring the items to a table and assemble the burger there.”
“What? Why can’t I make a burger while in line? This is stupid.”
“Joe, you are written up. This will be logged.”
Joe just looked pissed.
At one point Heidelberg entered the cafeteria. She stood by the water machine and watched.
My whole body tensed up. I knew I was being watched. Everyone in the cafeteria starting having a mental breakdown. It was terrible. Workers and residents alike, we all knew that she was watching every one of us, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on us, to reprimand us. She wanted us to do something wrong, she needed us to do something wrong, she wouldn’t leave until somebody did something wrong. But who would it be? Who was going to be the one to piss off Heidelberg?
Somebody dropped a burger patty on the floor. It looked bad being there so I asked one of the residents to get a broom and clean it up. The resident came over and swept it up.
Heidelberg left immediately after. I watched her leave and sighed with relief. It didn’t seem like anything bad happened in the short time she was there.
After lunch, Heidelberg found me and said, “My office, please.”
I felt horrible. I wanted to cry. What did she want from me? I couldn’t figure it out.
I sat in her office and tried to emotionally prepare for what was to come.
“Do you remember when the burger patty fell on the floor?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Don’t tell kitchen workers to sweep up burger patties so close to the buffet station. It could cause dust to come up from the floor and land on the food.”
What was she talking about? I had worked at several restaurants in college and never heard that once. That was completely absurd.
“I don’t trust you, Mike. I don’t think you believe in NEOTAP.”
“I believe,” I said, almost having a panic attack.
“You need to prove to me that you believe. You almost killed several residents today using a broom so close to the food.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea what to say to Heidelberg. What she was saying was so strange, so impossible to respond to, but I just nodded and said, “Yes, I will never do that again.”
“Good.”
Then she dismissed me. I left feeling extremely confused.
Charlie Palmer
I did another body count in the morning. Two more people had disappeared. I didn’t ask anyone where they went. I knew I would not get an answer. I didn’t know what I was doing at NEOTAP. The place seemed terrible to me. Heidelberg wouldn’t stop yelling at me, I was constantly being watched, people were disappearing, nobody ever talked about anything but fantasy football. I was in a constant state of tension. All my muscles were taut. I felt like crying all the time. But I wanted health care. I went to college and wanted to make at least eleven dollars an hour. If I quit, I was going to have to go back to restaurant work. Nobody was hiring political science majors. I thought when I was in college that I could at least get a job in an office, but I was told I needed six months of experience to do office work.