Clocks
By Terrence Oblong
- 779 reads
The good thing about being a driver for Clocks, is that you get to meet everyone in the company. There’s no discrimination, you could be picking up the President or the boy who makes the tea.
In this particular case it was some spawny little kid, who looked like he was here on work experience, knee high to an average sized knee.
“So why’s it called Clocks?” he asked, “is it a family name?”
“No,” I prepared myself for delivering the usual spiel. “Clocks is named after its unique feature, it’s the only organization in the world with a single, connected set of offices that spans three separate time zones. This freeway we’re driving down now, it’s the only freeway actually contained within an office.”
He looked suitably impressed.
“We’ll take you to Humanity first,” I said, “they’ll sort out your dockets and tags.”
“What are dockets and tags?” he asked.
I paused. No-one had ever asked that question. “They’re what you need before you can work. Just as you need air to breathe you need dockets and tags to work.” I showed him my tag by way of example, it had my photograph with my name and position underneath.
I waited outside Humanity while he got fitted out for work. Poor kid, I thought to myself, must be here on work experience, doesn’t have a clue about dockets, tags or anything. I’ll have to take special care of him.
About half an hour later he re-emerged, his tag taking up half of his suit, he looked like a miniaturised bill-board-man.
“I’d like to go to Research now,” he said, as if I were his personal chauffeur, instead of everyone’s personal chauffeur. It’s an important distinction, though I spared him it for the time being, his being a new boy.
“You can’t go to Research,” I said, “it’s nearly midnight in Research.”
He checked the time on his i-phone. “I thought you said the company spanned three time zones, how can it be midnight in Research?”
“Ah well, because of the separate time zones thing the company has a fairly relaxed attitude to time. Each department is able to choose the time zone of their choice, the one that best fits the needs and opportunities of that particular department.
“I’ll take you to Fantasy instead,” I said, “they come up with the creative ideas that are then sent on to Research. We’re nearly there, you’ll have to put your clock forward twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes? How can they be an odd twenty minutes ahead of us?”
“As I say, the company has a relaxed attitude to time.”
I spent the whole day driving the one kid around. After Fantasy we went to Dockets, then Rockits, followed by Sprockets and finally Fockits (the colloquial name for the planning department).
“It’s strange,” I said to him at the end of the day, “that a work experience kid like yourself would get a tour of the whole company like that, they usually spend the first day showing you how to use the lift.”
The kid was indignant. “I’m not a work experience kid, I am the new Chief Executive. Kurt Brumstein, CEO.” He showed me his tag, which confirmed the truth of his claim.
“I’m truly sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean anything by it, it’s just that you look so young.”
“I’m fifteen he said. I’m what you might call a child genius, qualified for Harvard at the age of eleven and left with the highest degree they’ve awarded in their history.”
“So this must be your first job, managing a major blue chip company?”
“Not at all, I was CEO of Cofany for two years before this.”
“Cofany? The coffee and artificial knee giant, I thought it went bust?”
“It did, that’s why I’ve come to work at Clocks.”
xxxx
The next day I was pleased to see no sign of Kurt in the car requisition line, instead I picked up Ian from Dockets.
“I don’t think much of this new CEO,” he said, “I asked him for a meeting and he said he didn’t have time to drive around all day and that I should Skype him instead.”
“Skype? What’s that?”
“No idea, but I don’t want to find out. I just sent him what he wanted in an email. It’s a shame, I was hoping to pop over to see him at lunchtime.”
It’s always lunchtime in Ian’ world. He’s mastered navigating the company’s various time zones to such great effect that he always arrives in a department just at the start of its lunch break. He weighs just under three hundred pounds.
“Be fair one the kid,” I said, “the CEO doesn’t have time to meet everyone, maybe he’s just trying to maximise his workload.”
Ian just looked at me sadly.
Xxx
Having lost Ian to lunch, I picked up Tim from outside the Fockits canteen. Tim’s the trade union official and spends a lot of time going from department to department complaining.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, “this new CEO. He’s come in with all these wild ideas. He’s introducing Standard Time.”
“Standard Time?, what’s that?”
“It’s the time in his office. We all have to set our clocks to Standard Time. Oh, he’s being very gracious, saying that we can arrive at work an hour early or an hour late to fit with our actual time zone, but no more independence. Clocks is now a company with just one clock. It’s a farce, that’s what it is.”
“But what about Research,” I asked, “surely this can’t apply to Research.”
Tim looked very serious indeed. “Even Research,” he said, “Standard Time even applies to Research.”
“They’re not going to like that,” I said.
Xxx
The next day I picked up Ian at Pouting, “You’ve lost weight,” I said.
“Tell me about it,” he complained, “I only had two lunches all day yesterday. It’s this Standard Time thing, it’s creating all kinds of chaos. Did you hear about Research?
“Yes, I heard, they’re being made to follow Standard Time.”
“You are behind with the news, aren’t you,” he said. “They started on Standard Time yesterday. They got caught out, it turns out they’re the same as Fantasy.”
“The same?”
The same people, just doing a different shift.”
“They can’t have gotten away with that,” I said, “someone would have noticed.”
“Why not. Did you ever see Research?” I shook my head. “Nobody did, that’s the clever thing, wed all gone home by the time they started work.”
“But surely,” I said, “they can’t have all worked a sixteen hour day every day?”
“sixteen hours? They had nothing to do. That’s the scandal. We all assumed that Fantasy were working hard being creative and coming up with ideas and Research were working equally hard ironing out the practicalities and eventually saying ‘no’. It turns out there wasn’t any work being done at all, Fantasy would come up with an occasional outline for an idea, which the same person would stamp as ‘Impractical’ a few days later. They spent the rest of the time catching up on sleep and playing computer games. One of them is a full time writer, she’s written seven novels.”
“so what’s happened to them?”
“Gone, he’s closed down both departments on the basis that they don’t actually contribute anything. God, I can’t believe it, still another two hours until lunchtime.”
Xxx
I saw less and less of people. The new CEO issued a memo stating that travelling from site to site should be avoided unless absolutely necessary. Staff were advised to telephone, email or Skype their colleagues.
Nobody knew what Skype meant, but there was a rumour that it was some form of monster that the CEO would set on you if you took a car unnecessarily.
“I’m going to be made redundant at this rate,” I said to myself. There was nobody else to say it to.
My thoughts were interrupted by a tap on my window. It was Kurt, the new CEO.
“Hello Sir,” I said, on my best behaviour, “nice to see you again.”
“No need to call me Sir,” he said, “I’m no longer your boss.”
So this was it. He’d come to fire me.
“You’re not?” I said, feigning innocence.
“No, I’ve been fired. Clocks has been making a loss ever since I’ve been here.
“But surely not; your efficiencies? The factory has started producing things again, overtime claims have plummeted now it’s clear when people are working, you’ve got rid of Research and Fantasy,” I could have gone on but he interrupted me.
“I know, I know, it all seemed so good at the time. But I’d forgotten one key thing; how we make our profits. Tell me what Clocks does.”
I was bemused for a moment. “Well we’re Clocks, a mega corporation, spanning every industry and sector, it does what it’s always done, there’s …. I paused, as I realised I had no idea.
“Exactly, you’ve no idea. It turns out that Clocks never made anything. We made our money by providing an off-shore time-zone where the banks could make a fortune on the futures market. By introducing Standard Time I inadvertently closed the time loop and created a banking crisis that threatens to take Clocks down with the rest of the economy.”
“Wow,” I said. “What are you going to do next then?”
“Well I’ve single-handedly destroyed the two companies I’ve managed, my name is mud.”
“So will no-one hire you?”
“Not in this country. I’ve got a job lined up in England though, running a little firm called the NHS. I’m reliably informed that they make and service elves.”
“Well good luck with that I said,” dropping him off at Departures.
As I waved goodbye to the CEO Ian jumped in the car. “Step on it,” he said, “It’s lunchtime in Dockets. I’m starving.”
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Comments
I think I used to work there
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This is really good. You
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That sounds like the sort of
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