Larry Benjamin. Wordsmith. Writer. Author.

Nigel Gale @MannequinMan Have you seen ernest!’s column today? Barbara @Harvard06 No, not before my morning tea! Prometheus Jones @Theus I just read it. You may want to read it on an empty stomach Just Plain Terry (JPT) @FierceQueen Honestly, ernest! is always seeing racists under the bed. Prometheus Jones @Theus Well, in his defense, when your only tool is a hammer, everything tends to look like a nail. Barbara @Harvard06 Well, for someone with a degree in journalism, he doesn’t follow any of the rules of impartiality. ernest! had gone to the same Ivy League institution as Barbara the first, but he’d managed to circumvent accusations of privilege and access by casting his undergraduate years not as a stroll through hallowed, ivy-covered halls, but rather as an unavoidable incarceration in a PWI—Predominately White Institution. Barbara wore her Harvard degree like a gold star; ernest! wore his like a Purple Heart. ernest!’s eponymous biweekly b...

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the flashing blue of the Jabber message window. I felt —like the cold hand of death grasping your shoulder—rather than saw the dreaded name. Brett Buttler: Are you there? Theus Jones: I’m here Brett Buttler: Did you get my email? Theus jones: No. Brett Buttler: I sent it last night at 10. Theus Jones: I was offline. Brett Buttler: Offline? Theus Jones: Did you need something? Brett Buttler: Read my email. Set up a call for 9:30. Ping me with the call-in info. Theus Jones: ‘K Ten minutes later I’d read his emails—the first of which contained few words and little information and the second of which contained many more words and no information—assembled my team: Nigel, Diana, and Barbara the first whom I’d gotten out of bed—and dialed into the conference call where we waited fifteen minutes for Brett to join. “How can he be late for his own call?” Barbara the first asked.  We could hear her f...

As I wrestled my outsized binder down the hall, I passed Diana handing out print samples with unusual energy. “Oh, good, you’re back,” she said in her let's-get-straight-to-the-point manner. “You’re debriefing us at the production meeting. Meeting’s moved to 10. TWO’s running late.  Bats.” Bats? I was distracted by the familiar “ping” of an incoming MOO.  Soon followed the familiar chorus of resigned sighs that seemed to whisper “What now ?” M E M O R A N D U M  O F  O P P O R T U N I T Y ! From: The Office of the CEO            The Office of the Director, Global Human Resources To: All Employees A company-wide web cast has been scheduled for this Friday at 12 noon EST.  While we realize you may have client obligations that will preclude you from attending this webcast, we strongly encourage you to make every effort to attend.  We will be announcing important changes we are i...

“Huh?”  I asked helplessly.  We were in the middle of yet another production meeting, and I thought I’d heard my name mentioned.  “You’re going to…” and here TWO named our southern office located in some North Carolina backwater. “But, why?” “Training,” TWO said.  “Capital B has decided to decentralize certain functions now centralized there.  We’ll need you to get up to speed as you’ll be the chief liaison between the Northeast and Southeast regions. “Why me?” I asked.  My fear of flying is well known and to her credit TWO did an admirable job hiding her glee at my discomfiture. She gave me an answer but what it was I don’t know as her words were drowned out by the sound of smoke being blown up my ass. “Oh,” she said rising.  “One more thing: Brett will be going with you.” *** Nigel sidled up to my cell, glanced up and down the hall and slipped into the narrow space.  “Here,” he said thrusting several small glas...

I was in the elevator when I got a text from Terry, our receptionist, a fierce, snapping, vogueing   take-no-prisoners queen.  "Better hurry!  The Devil and her evil imp are here." I wondered idly what Brett had done to earn Terry's ire already. "Chirl!" The word sailed across the lobby and exploded in my ear as I exited the elevator. . As far as I could tell “chirl” was a word of Terry’s own invention, combining the words “child” and “girl.” "Chirl! You're late.  You better move it." I waved behind my back without turning around. *** It was mid-morning before we mushrooms were called into the conference room. The room was so violently hot that each of us staggered a bit on entering. Capital B was presiding over the meeting from the middle of the conference table. Beneath a soot-colored suit, she wore a high-collared iridescent silk shirt.  In the pale light it flashed red, blue, yellow as she moved; with each movement it...

It was a quiet week.  The officers were in a state of high anxiety; our collective failure to “make our numbers” due to the crappy economy, the unlikelihood of year-end bonuses and the visitation of Capital B, all hanging over their heads like some poisoned Sword of Damocles . I, myself, was unusually quiet following the “No one talks to you because…” debacle, and my self-imposed exile. The “drums”—Twitter, and the text messaging that kept us informed and a half step ahead of leadership—had also been uncharacteristically quiet. The strain caused TWO to call a special production meeting—the second in less than two weeks—to strategize about how we would handle the inevitable visitation of Capital B and Brett. “They’ll be here all day,” TWO was saying when I zoned back in.  Generally nothing worthwhile happened at these impromptu meetings of hers so I typically used the time to think about other things.  “So we should probably plan on going out to lunch as a g...