Memories of Irrational Exuberance or Beware the Savage Shore of 1994

This is an excerpt from my never before published "memoirs" detailing the life of a low level unskilled clerk in a major
software corporation. It is utterly vindictive in every way....
:)
Chapter One
My Christmas bonus climbed Mount Everest

Sotto Voce the Boss let it be known that we would not be getting a Christmas
bonus this year. He cited the fact that the tres-trendy software company we
contract for declined to finance such an extravagance . Never mind the fact
that a few of our familied toilers were depending on that fifty bucks to buy
a reasonable facsimile of GI Joe with the Kung Fu grip for their kids-the
money simply wasn't there. The Company WE work for (reliably known as one of
Boston's most upstanding dealers in human flesh by way of janitorial
services) takes a sweaty ill-at-ease silence on the whole controversial
subject of the Christmas bonus. The entire subcontracting gig depends on
carpet-billing the client for a galaxy of petty boons and services thus
paying the bonus out of pocket is an ghastly example of budgetary incest.
So you can see why no-one wants to talk about it.
It gets better though-our host entity fired off an e-mail the other day,
joyfully announcing to all and sundry that the corporation was co-sponsoring
an expedition up Mount Everest. The apparent goal here is to obtain a world
class orgasm of publicity for their groupware package and to field test a
proposed satellite hook-up. Moreover three lucky employees will be chosen
via lottery to accompany the expedition to Base camp -us poor left behinders
can keep up with the climb's progress through a special in house database.
That is assuming that anyone can tear themselves away from Alt.Sex.Mortuaries
long enough to watch their coworkers wax illiterate about the breath-taking
beauty of the "Himalayan Andes".
We shouldn't complain, if anything can give that groupware a solid field-test
it is the prospect of being frog-marched up a mountain, over the freeze-dried
corpses of other nameless compulsives and on to the summit where the
atmosphere faithfully mimics Mars in the throes of winter.
Frankly, I'm almost glad to see that bonus go...given it's self abusive
proclivities it was clearly way more trouble than its worth. Like the parent of a willful adolescent I'm resigned to allowing the money to seek it's own destiny no matter how dubious the plan may be.
Copyright 1994
It's All True