Dreamy nighttime view of a Wholesome Shopper Market

One thing some of them have been wondering about, though, is Rob Drake’s take on all that’s happening around here. He has dropped curiously out of the frame for months now, by far his most prolonged silence in all the time they’ve worked here. This is interpretable any number of ways, after all. Is Rob under the impression that things are going so well at Wholesome Shopper Market that he doesn’t need to come around so much? Or does his avoidance lie at the opposite end of the spectrum, is he just wanting to wash his hands of this mess? Perhaps he is just as confused as the rest of them, but doesn’t want to admit it, considering he is supposed to be the guy in charge? Or is this a mere coincidence? Something else altogether?

Well, as far as Edgar’s concerned, the most likely explanation is that Rob’s being pulled apart somewhere in the middle, frozen in place with the same mindset as the rest of them — that they will just have to see how this new store opening goes. That it is impossible to determine which way this wind is blowing until then.

Some potential answers might arrive with their latest office Christmas party. This time around, it’s held at a trendy bar called the Deranged Monkey, on the second floor of a building across the street from their Central store. As Edgar and Elizabeth climb the stairs to enter the place, though, a weird, palpably airborne vibe hits them the moment they step inside.

Well, presumably, the weird vibe was present before they set foot in here, if one wishes to get technical. But as far as it pertains to him, yes, things are a bit awkward from the outset. The first person he makes eye contact with in the entire room is Marla, itself never the most champagne-popping occurrence even under the best of circumstances. He raises his hand and attempts a friendly “what’s up?” type nod in her direction, though she makes a blatant point of turning her head away, nose in air, without responding. Whatever. Though he has been exceedingly nice to her, even in the face of her own frequent unpleasantness, this is definitely a case where she doesn’t like what he has to say a great deal of the time. Furthermore plainly considers herself above his measly peon status.

And she also wants to establish, as if this weren’t already clear, that he is not a member of the “in crowd.” Lest he ever commit the error of thinking that he is. This is made quite visible by the manner in which she and the others have circled their wagons, in a tight cluster, at the far end of the L shaped bar. Marla merely has the nearest chair to them and was looking this way. Otherwise, though a couple others are seated, most of that inner circle are huddled together, and it’s back slaps and wild guffaws all around: Todd, Don and Diane Evans, Fred, Vince and his date, but also a couple of other unfamiliar faces, including some bearded mountain man in a long sleeved flannel shirt and jeans. They will soon learn that this is Shane, Lorena’s future store manager, who like all the others was simply acquired from MRI and will retain his former job.

Is Todd paying all of these people who remain in limbo, with the store reopening more than a month away? That’s a very good question that has just occurred to Edgar. Otherwise, it would seem that you couldn’t necessarily count on them returning. Yet Todd has permitted very few people inside that building thus far, so it isn’t as though they are working at present. In fact, as far as Edgar knows, apart from the three actual bosses and the ceremonial figurehead Vince, the only other employees who’ve stepped inside there are Felix and Teri, who are needed to the get the IT infrastructure rolling. Good for those former MRI workers, though, if they are earning a paycheck during this downtime — there’s no reason to begrudge anybody that, therefore not much reason to even ponder it. It isn’t as though you would ever get a straight answer out of Todd on this subject, anyway, and certainly not tonight. In fact, this backslapping, good ol’ boy posse doesn’t really come around and interact with the rest of them at all, as Edgar and many of the others share not a single word with that secretive tribe for the entirety of this very strange party.

Even Rob and Janis are seemingly ostracized, seated farthest away in a corner table, though not exactly looking thrilled by this prospect, either. In fact both appear to be giving Edgar strange glances all night themselves, so he’s not sure what’s going on. He gets the impression that they’re trying to develop a read on what he thinks about this current regime, but can’t exactly come right out and ask. Considering they are joined by Sharon and her husband, the recently divorced Destiny and some black dude she’s dating, Candace and her surprisingly much older man, there’s not a spare seat at that table, either, however.

Which is totally fine, for the most part, with Edgar and Elizabeth. They have remnants of the same old crew over in an equally remote front corner, though much smaller than a year ago at this time, with available seating at that table, and it’s here that they make their move. This translates basically as Dale, Vicky and her husband, Park and his wife. Brian has of course long since quit, Will too, ditto most of the “normal” people that were forced to come on exactly one occasion (Craig, Billy) with whom as expected Elizabeth really did hit it off, on that singular occurrence. Even Valerie, who has attended every one of these things up to this point, is curiously absent tonight. Every year Edgar makes a point of inviting Glenda, too — who has always thanked him, saying that otherwise, nobody seems to remember her and she has no clue when these things are — yet though she makes an appearance roughly half the time, this is not one such incident.

So as these three camps form a loose triangle, everyone else is crammed somewhere in the middle. Scanning these faces now, Edgar observes that he increasingly either doesn’t know who these people are — which makes sense, in the case of the Lorena staff, many of which are here — or else has had little interaction with them (newer folks like the Palmyra vitamins manager, Palmyra produce manager), or else hasn’t exactly hit it off in stellar fashion with them. Fortunately, this latter sector very neatly matches the list of those who boycott the party every year (Shelly, Laurie, et cetera) so there aren’t a ton in that category. And actually, he gets along well enough with some of the greatest complainers, such as Ralph and Walter, even while wishing they would just knock that off and embrace this modern era a little more. Still, apart from the rare presence of convivial veterans like Johnny, or the perpetually laidback Jimmy and Mitch, he wouldn’t really characterize this middle mass as a huge swarm of allies.

But why are so many of them thinking about this place in such military terms to begin with? After all, they theoretically belong to the same team, every one of them. Yet he’s not the only one to observe here of late that, Jesus Christ, things sure have gotten mighty combative throughout this company. And that, regarding tonight, there are some exceptionally strange currents swirling through the air.

Well, first things first, there is the ever puzzling behavior of Todd Cashner to consider. That’s approximately 90% of it, which makes sense — not that his antics ever do — considering that, apart from Rob getting up front to deliver a short speech, Todd totally dominates the proceedings this evening. Which mostly manifests itself in this baffling “awards” ceremony where he parades every Lorena employee on hand, one after the other, up in front of everybody, and hands them each the equivalent of a participation trophy, these weird plaques congratulating them for basically existing, for agreeing to join this wacky team. Come to think of it, they all deserve badges of honor for that last point, maybe. Yet instead of that, or even the standard prize basket drawing, current employees are swatted away with some dismissive mumbling about there being a bunch of identical goodie bags in the back, so be sure and grab one if you really feel like it.

After more than a year working for the guy, along with other similar figures in the past, Edgar feels like he’s getting a very good read on what makes the Todd Cashners of the world tick. Though some of the others were joking about that in the office a few months ago, Edgar wouldn’t have needed their input to conclude the same thing. Todd’s number one priority is not running this company, and ensuring it is a success. No no no no no. Oh, sure, he hopes to be well compensated for his efforts, but that would be true of anywhere he went. Of which there are countless organizations throughout this great land who would trip over themselves to have a heavyweight such as he, right? So it’s not as though he needs to sweat that point. No, what really inspires him is making sure that everyone in the room is well aware of what a bigshot he is. Once he is satisfied that the Lorena staff has been sufficiently impressed by this point, be it weeks or months from now, he will become bored and swat them away, too.

Edgar would go as far as to say it’s a major reason why this personality type continues to act the same way, every time they have a new store opening. He was actually thinking some of this about Harry, back when they were scrambling to get Arcadia up and running. Right up until Harry either got fired or quit, that is. That the reason they want to keep everyone out of the building until the last possible minute is because they have these really childish fantasies about flipping on the lights, and leading the entire workforce through the building, as this mastermind beams and soaks up the wondrous adulation, as everyone else is scooping his or her jaw up off the floor and beholding this otherworldly genius with dazed, starstruck eyes. He doesn’t want a team of employees in there, all working on stuff at the same time, because then this effect would be lost. The perceived opportunity for showboating trumps all.

Rob does make his rounds and stops to chat at their table, Edgar and Elizabeth included. So this is appreciated. Also, as the two of them cross the room to stand out on the balcony and take in the admittedly picturesque nighttime skyline, Janis drifts over to say hello, and spends even more time casually chatting with them. Too bad that an unknown assailant bumps into Edgar’s drink holding elbow from behind, splashing a bunch of beer all over his sweater. Everyone saw what happened, and Janis even offers a sympathetic wince and chuckle, but this is still an uncomfortable development — particularly when standing here talking to one of your owners.

But yeah, at least he’s not Palmyra’s meat cutter, who for the second such party, has gotten so drunk he fell out of his barstool. By this point they are back inside, and within earshot of Rob as he witnesses this scene. Though not looking particularly concerned about the situation, Rob is overhead remarking to some others with a bemused smirk, “someone might wanna talk to him about that.”

After they are able to make a mercifully early exit — and are allegedly by no means the only ones so doing, in fact the first occasion where many of them have left earlier than Rob and Janis — one half of this couple is due back in the company offices all too soon the following morning. This isn’t to suggest that Edgar doesn’t still love his job, because he most certainly does. Despite the wackiness, it remains his all-time favorite. One might even suggest, and would not necessarily be wrong in so doing, that the wackiness is part of the attraction, because it perpetually keeps a person on his toes. It’s a major reason why he has still, as he is often telling his wife and others, never had a single boring moment at this place. That is truly something to be thankful for. Yet, even so, there’s a difference between a bunch of wackiness that you feel like you are on top of, that you can control (which has been the case thus far, mostly) and wackiness that has spun entirely out of your grasp, because you lost what little control you ever had. Which is obviously what things are turning into around here.

Because in many respects, they seem to be moving backwards. Not in the metaphorical sense, where an observer might observe that they are spinning their wheels or losing momentum, but that they are literally devolving to an earlier time. A time in the early 1980s, perhaps, where computers were still these strange, newfangled gadgets and your entire school or business had to divvy up access to one device, with everybody in the trenches together learning how to use the thing. There is nothing else that would explain some of this.

Like for example how, more than five years after last dealing with this at Liberty, another ancient, presumed slayed beast has once more reared its head, this time in Palmyra: the peculiar phenomenon of people filling in Excel sheets, but then printing them out and scanning them over to him as a PDF. It was beyond weird even back then, so at this late date, it’s so surreal as to make the recipient wonder if he’s hallucinating.

Worse still, as had been the case back then, these new item sheets involve a wide mix from virtually every department, meaning someone is compiling this for the entire store. And that anything scanned over from the copier just has [email protected] as the source, making it impossible to determine anything that way, either. Therefore he has no choice but to send out an email blast to every manager at that store, asking who is doing this, and trying to explain as nicely as possible why this doesn’t make any sense and is creating more work on both sides of the equation. He would say the only response received on this topic is most hallucinogenic of all, but, well, it’s actually somewhat expected at this point. A ridiculous rant from Shelly, copying everyone and therefore taking it upon herself to speak for the entire store.

You need to be more understanding. Not everyone has access to a computer here. Or even if they do, not everyone has access to Outlook. People are doing what they can. I told them just to send you the new item information in whatever form they could.

Regarding his response, Edgar is highly tempted to launch into full-on smartass mode, but that would surely prove counterproductive and only fan the flames higher. Even if, to cite but a couple of the more obvious jokes, he could reasonably question whether it was wise for Palmyra to send zero representatives to his Office Basics 101 class. And then to ask if they would like to schedule another one, possibly at their location this time. No, it is best to only refute Shelly’s specific claims, point by point. Of course even in this, if you take the dry route, they’ll claim you were being a dickhead and if you make light of it instead, then you’ve lapsed into smartass mode anyway. Because they don’t like what you have to say, there is no ruffle-free response. Yet you can’t just avoid responding, because then they would think it’s okay to continue doing this, that Shelly’s points were correct.

Shelly: Okay, I appreciate the response. And it’s definitely better to send the new items information in whatever form rather than not sending it at all. But what I’m saying is that whoever is doing this, they are creating more work for themselves and for me. If you’re typing something up in Excel, why wouldn’t you just email the Excel sheet? Instead of printing it out, then taking the piece of paper over to the copy machine, scanning it over as a PDF that I would then have to retype by hand back into a new Excel sheet? See what I mean? That’s way more time consuming for both of us.

I’m not sure I understand this part about not having access to computers, though. There are three in the office, one on the back dock, one in the vitamins department, and even the time clock is really just a Windows computer that someone could use in a pinch. I’ve done so myself at times. Also, there’s a web version of Outlook that anyone can use. Their same log-in credentials would work there, if they don’t have their own dedicated computer. That’s what many of us do, actually, if we’re in one of the stores without our laptops. The other thing is, whoever is doing this, they obviously have access to a computer if they are typing things into Excel and then printing them out.

Anyway, if you can help get everyone on board with just emailing the spreadsheet directly to me, that would be great. Thanks!

He realizes after he sends it that he forgot to mention the store manager’s computer and Sharon’s as well. Naturally, though, neither Shelly nor anybody else bothers to respond to this particular message. It’s highly debatable whether he scored any “points” or made an impression upon a single person with any of this, however. Which might throw a person into existential despair wondering what the point of anything is, really, if allowing oneself to bog down too deeply into this train of thought, when attempting to express some very calm and rational points is perceived as the behavior of a deranged lunatic.

Instead, many of the same thoughts resurface as they had when Liberty was on this same kick. That if you reach a place where people think that it’s funny to fuck with you — or even, with a certain personality type, where it’s obvious that what they’re doing is pushing your buttons — then you are royally screwed. It’s becoming quite clear why people just go to management or HR or both and throw a complete hissy fit over what so and so is doing, rather than even attempt handling something themselves in a totally reasonable manner.

Because the next twist is, which is evidently someone’s clever idea of skirting the whole “access to computers” argument, Palmyra begins scanning over the new items sheet as PDFs…but with handwritten information instead. So what is likely a single determined antagonist — the prime suspect of course being Shelly — is now taking it upon him or herself to print out blank new item spreadsheets and pass them out to everyone. To scribble upon with a pen or Sharpie or in some cases a barely legible pencil. Often halfway incomplete, too. Teri would have had a freaking cow, refused to deal with this, and he doesn’t plan on putting up with it, either.

This concept reaches a breaking point of sorts the next time he makes it into the Palmyra store. Edgar’s in the health & beauty section, in the middle of his latest scan audit, and spots some brand new vitamins woman, whom he’s never met before, standing a few sections over with a clipboard, writing on a new items spreadsheet. As such he can scarcely resist drifting over and, with a disbelieving grin, asking, “what are you doing?”

“Oh!” she says, somewhat startled, though apparently at least recognizing that he works here, and explaining, “this doesn’t scan.”

“Okay but who told you to do it that way?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, turning cagey in an instant, now that she’s aware this method is under attack, “that’s just what I was told to do.”

He can see that she has filled out the vast majority of the information, and also that, if he’s not mistaken, this handwriting is quite recognizable to him as being a previous sender of multiple such spreadsheets. Even so, jumping this person’s case would probably be counterproductive, and is really not the point anyway. Which means that it suddenly occurs to him a way he can spin this that she might actually appreciate.

“Alright, but see, you don’t really need to do this much work.”

“I don’t?”

“No, because, okay, your department manager already has all this information in a file on her computer.”

“She does?”

“Yes. So all you have to do is leave her a note, with the UPC and item description. Then she would just have to copy it from the file and send it to me. Plus, I mean, department managers are the ones who are supposed to be doing that anyway…”

Following this conversation, and bringing it up at the next Monday morning meeting where Russell and Shelly both are on the conference call and can’t really deny having heard this, this particular situation is at last rectified. But it isn’t as though you ever find yourself dancing in the streets over such a minor victory, at a place like this. Instead you are much more likely to clutch your collar tightly, shuddering at the horror brought by contemplating what ridiculous episode is going to arrive next.

That they are moving backwards in so many respects is undeniable. After raising a huge stink about the “discount abuse” when he first arrived here, which brought about those loyalty cards, Todd now appears completely indifferent to this topic. The generic discount buttons are back on the cash registers, because RU Data can’t process loyalty cards. This fact does curiously coincide with Todd’s sudden disinterest in the topic, yes. Meanwhile, Don calls out Edgar for some reason, at the front end of Central, about this glaring omission.

“You told me RU Data could handle loyalty cards!” he claims, wagging an index finger at Edgar.

“What!? No I didn’t. We’ve never had a single conversation about that.”

That this exchange occurs at a loud volume in broad daylight, with a bunch of slack mouthed, dumbfounded cashiers witnessing this scene — it’s early still, so there aren’t many customers, thankfully — is bad enough. Also that as far as most employees are concerned, if a manager is speaking, then the manager is presumed to be correct. Don Evans is certainly convinced he’s correct. About this, and anything else which might fly out of his mouth. Edgar’s tempted to continue piling on the arguments, to explain why this is erroneous, but it’s best to just keep this simple, and walk away. That sparse negation of Don’s claims will suffice. If explaining further, however, he would add that the first time he ever heard the name RU Data was during that conference call where Todd had already signed the paperwork to go into cahoots with these jokers. So it wouldn’t even matter if Edgar did for some insane reason make wild, unsubstantiated claims about their freaking loyalty card capabilities, with his best chum here Don Evans. Despite knowing next to nothing about this company until months later, during that weekend in Long Island, and even that was not exactly revelatory.

Then there’s the inventory situation. Todd and Fred both keep saying they’ll “figure this out,” but it seems obvious this isn’t the case. Well, no, they have figured something out: that the company is going back to using LVIS. But that is only set to begin next month. This month, the first one under RU Data, the process is about as convoluted as expected. Maybe he should cut these bosses some slack, considering there is so much going on around these parts, and it’s going to take a while to sort out this mayhem. But then again, they are most of the reason there is so much turmoil. Yet they remain mighty smug throughout, as though they have a firm grip on everything. Anyway, he keeps these thoughts to himself, it isn’t as though he goes around spouting about this to anyone. Nonetheless…the fact of the matter is, Edgar suspected, despite Todd’s dismissive waving away of this notion, that this first inventory after switching to RU Data would prove a convoluted mess. And so far, he’s been right.

Since Todd did not wish to transfer over their inventory balances from Slingshot, this is what they’ve dictated to Edgar instead. All done with a panicked, last minute mindset, quite naturally. He is now supposed to take as his starting point the Slingshot ending inventories (which they still have access to, of course, because most employees continue to use Slingshot daily, despite constant pronouncements that it is quote unquote dead and that they need to forget about it), add in the balances of all items that have been checked in on the backdock via RU Data, minus the sales history flowing in from Hupp.

On a purely technical level, it should be noted, Edgar actually largely enjoys doing this. It’s a fun challenge, he’s trying something new, as a whole it kind of ties into that concept of your job being a video game. But it’s still plenty goofy. It doesn’t sound like they intend to keep doing this every month, and he should hope not. Also the way that Todd and Fred continue popping into his office and asking how long this is going to take, while simultaneously submitting frequent different last minute tweaks to how they want the final spreadsheet with the numbers laid out, this is also not ideal. But yes, he is able to squeak in under the 4pm buzzer with this madness, somehow.

The funny thing is, in the allegedly “less advanced” Slingshot system, these numbers would have been available in an instant, via two different methods. He could have just downloaded reports showing the active inventories for everything. Or he could have just hit “Refresh” on that master spreadsheet, the one that John Arthur helped him create, which connected to Slingshot via something called Microsoft Query. As it so happens, he has his notes on this — which aren’t too complicated, once you know how — and attempted doing so awhile back in RU Data, to no avail. He also asked Matt Abernathy about this on one occasion, when that since mostly exiled dude was here on site.

“Hey, is there a way for me to connect to RU Data through Microsoft Query.”

“Mmm…I don’t know. What’s that?”

“Well, okay, this is what we were doing in Slingshot. It’s basically just an SQL connection, to where I just have to hit one button and it updates the inventory in my spreadsheet.”

“No,” Matt definitively states.

So that’s that. Nothing worth losing sleep over, maybe, but sure would be nice. Now that they have these numbers in hand at the end of this inventory day, however, no matter the method derived, the question becomes what to do with them. Shouldn’t Edgar just go ahead and pop these balances into RU Data? No, Todd says, because he’s going to have LVIS in here next month, counting everything, “and that way, we can get a fresh start.”

“Well yeah but, I mean, since we already have these numbers, wouldn’t it make sense to just go ahead and upload them? These might not be perfect, but they should be pretty close. It’s a lot better than what we’ve got in there now, anyway. Otherwise it’s kind of pointless to even have the receivers enter…”

“No. Huh uh,” Todd says, cutting him off, “‘cause then we’d have everyone thinkin these numbers is correct. I don’t want them thinkin that, ’cause they’re not. I’m bringin in LVIS next month, and then we’ll get a fresh start, then we’ll see what’s what. No excuses.”

While saying nothing, Fred nods at this, evidently in agreement. Cryptic though Todd’s comments may be, and not the least bit clear as far as Edgar’s concerned. The real question anyway, though, is what he intends to actually do with this opaque declaration. The way he sees it, there are three options:

1. do precisely as Todd says. Do not enter these inventory numbers into RU Data
2. do the exact opposite. Enter these numbers into RU Data, and tell everyone that they are correct
3. a response somewhere in the middle — upload these numbers, but don’t mention it to anybody

It really only takes him not even a minute, after leaving these two, to realize that the last one makes the most sense. As he had started to say before Todd cut him off, otherwise it’s a complete waste of time to even have these receivers entering their invoices. What could possibly be the point of that, if you’re going to take an inventory every month, but then not commit those numbers into your system?

He does get what Todd’s saying about not telling anyone, though, even though their reasons probably differ. From Edgar’s point of view, mentioning this would then have the Ralph Hedges types scoffing and rolling their eyes when you inform them that inventory is probably 90–95% correct at this point, chuckling as they tell you that this is why everything is a joke and they’re not going to spot check their four foot sections, they’re not going to order via the scan guns anymore, they’re not going to mess with any of this stuff until it is 100% correct.

But ironing out these numbers as much as you can makes total sense. If you’re accepting that there is still some work to be done, having a 90% correct inventory is still better than a 10% correct one. It gives the receivers some actual point to their work, too, apart from the physical ones (checking dates, temperatures, that the piece counts are accurate), without which the entry part is indeed a total waste of time.

So this is what he winds up doing, before even leaving for the day. And on the drive home, he reflects that it’s good to know he’s not the only one who thinks the current regime seems out to lunch a great deal of the time. Fred knows what he’s doing, this much is obvious, from a numbers and operational and structural standpoint and so on. But he spends so much time in his own office, he can’t possibly know what’s going on in the stores. Thus when Todd or Don are bringing their crazy bullshit down the pike, Fred’s almost always just playing along and pretending that he understands enough to agree with them, rather than question much — at which point it would probably become obvious he has no idea what’s going on. That’s to be avoided, at all costs.

Regarding all three of them, though, it’s like nothing these employees can say or no questions they can raise seem to really get through to those guys. It isn’t just Edgar and Sharon now asking about what’s going on with the ordering, as Dale and Vicky have begun piping up as well. Todd basically has nothing useful to say on this topic, unless possibly blaming Edgar or particular vendors, certainly not RU Data or this Matt Abernathy character who still has made no progress on any email ordering, despite the time lapsed and Edgar’s pair of attempted follow up inquiries. The first time Edgar asked Matt if he’d gotten this figured out and if that test Bellwether order had gone through, Abernathy had simply replied not quite yet. The second time, he had not responded at all.

So Todd’s attitude is a bit mystifying, or rather it would be if they hadn’t already figured out he refuses to assign any blame to RU Data for anything whatsoever. And that, as far as internal complaints and comments are concerned, he has slotted these into four neat categories. There is no overlap whatsoever between any of these, which further simplifies things:

1. Old cronies from St. Louis
2. Their wives
3. Any nice looking females
4. The rest of them

If categories 1–3 are saying anything whatsoever, then it is automatically valid. Category 4 may as well save its energy, meanwhile, because anything they might vocalize is automatically wrong.

Considering this, it opens up a real philosophical debate as to whether Don’s across-the-board dickishness is better or worse. To answer this, actually, you would probably have to break down this argument further by defining what is meant by “better.” Because, while he does seem to have targeted some individuals more than others (Edgar, cough cough), Don’s general mode of operation is to take any complaint whatsoever and fire it off at whatever target his rage addled brain has decided is the correct one, while copying everyone even tangentially connected to this situation. In this sense, it’s more fair, perhaps, on balance, in that they are mostly all equally, randomly attacked. But on the other hand, while Todd has his favorites, it does also mean large swaths of people are exempt, and therefore there’s slightly less animosity circulating.

A fascinating debate, to be sure. But this constant scramble for survival does mean they’re not considering this much, are merely attempting to navigate this minefield the best they can. And again, it’s good to know not every ally jumped off months ago, on the last available lifeboat. Glenda for example ruffles many a feather by dashing off an email to all department managers, store managers, and merchandisers, explaining for the umpteenth time how they should be coding their invoices. People at the stores are plenty fired up about it, to the extent that copies are printed out at all three of them, and taped up and highlighted and endlessly bitched about. Which might be understandable if there were any new policies in place, yet, apart from Todd’s baffling (and still not yet physically glimpsed) insistence upon breaking out a bakery sub-department, nothing has changed for years. Most of this in just a reiteration of emails Glenda had previously sent, Edgar had sent when he was doing accounts payable — in somewhat milder language, he likes to think — and Kathy Ames before him. Yes, a couple of department managers are new, like the older woman running vitamins in Palmyra, but even then, she’s surely been told the right way to do things. And if not, these same people balking at Glenda’s email are pretty much the same ones who think the typed up instruction manual that Edgar, Sharon and Tosha have been working on is kind of a joke and a real time waster, et cetera, all but refusing to print that out and pass it along. As they are now, as they had when Edgar was up in arms about the PDF/handwritten spreadsheet situation. It would be nice to say they can’t have it both ways, but of course many of them can, as long as Todd and Don are around. As for the rest of them, this is another predicament they still must file under Hippies, Waiting Out The.

At least Edgar’s halfway shoveled Marla off onto Sharon. Yet even this hasn’t quite gone as smoothly as planned. It’s only been partially successful in that the more complicated requests still flow his way anyhow. Also, Marla seemed instantly aware of exactly why he made this move, and is even angrier now, as though determined to find ways to be annoying regardless. Plus, the very implementation of this switch was a bit bumpy, as Sharon also immediately threw up a protest, in the form of an email, responding to Edgar and Marla both but also roping Fred into this discussion as well:

Whoa! Hold up a second. This is the first I’m hearing about this. I don’t have a problem helping out some, but I don’t know about “taking over” running movement reports. Unless Fred has suggested this. Fred, would you mind responding? What do you think?

It’s debatable why she has selected a somewhat random-seeming target in the form of Fred, although he is the second in command, and she’s already told Edgar that Todd never responds to her emails. Whatever these particulars, though, Fred does respond later in the afternoon:

Well, I guess I don’t have a problem with you running some movement reports, if you want to. But I wouldn’t really say this is a top priority.

Edgar actually has a huge issue with this response. This isn’t the forum for discussing it, though, is instead something he takes up with Fred and Todd both in person, in tandem, soon afterwards. What does this mean, exactly? First they are harping on him to “delegate” more, claiming that he’s falling behind on still unspecified projects that they can’t even name…then when he attempts assigning just about the easiest, most entry level task — so entry level that it’s not even actually his task, though half the people act like it is — to the person they specified, he is told this isn’t a top priority?

Not that he really gets to the bottom of anything here, either, discussing this in Todd’s office with the two of them. But the crux of his argument is, if they are saying the specialist isn’t supposed to pass along entry level tasks, then what are they saying? That the specialist is supposed to keep the entry level tasks for himself, but then pass along the specialized work to everyone else instead?

Well, no, they’re not saying that, either. They don’t know what they’re saying. All they know is they’re really starting to not like Edgar. Also, since he clearly slots into the last of Todd’s four categories of people here, anything he is saying therefore must be wrong.