Screen time

Language warning.

“Hey Marty. Take a look at this. Screen three. He’s at it again. It’s your turn. I took the last two.” Jane both hates and loves female equality. If it was actually functioning properly, no job is beyond her grasp. In truth it’s an excuse for bored insecure men to have some fun. You want equality? Take down the drunk guy in the lobby… By yourself. I could do it. Why not you?

Marty? Marty is a lazy fuck. He couldn’t take down his grandma. Wave the taser around like it’s an AK47? That is embarrassing. Swish the baton like it’s a light sabre? Marty is a master. That would be really useful if Darth Vader dropped by to get some financial advice.

It’s like some higher power looked Jane over and chuckled. ‘I know how to fuck with you. This will need popcorn.’ Meet Marty, Chris and Doug, a whole new set of monkeys. Ignore all evil. Be too distracted to notice evil. Monologue until evil gives up and goes home. Jane is sure the gods have a setup just like this. High-definition full colour screens, only they have a lot more. That makes them voyeurs.

Just like now. Screen three. That fool shouldn’t be waving that about. It could take out an eye. “Seriously Marty. If Doug walks past that back entrance and smells piss, I am not sticking around for the lecture.”

Doug? Doug is bearable. Doug is also maddeningly diligent. The guy never blinks. Not an exaggeration. Jane thinks it’s a medical condition. He is on every flicker, every shadow, every indiscretion, every idiocy, every randy fool… Speaking of randy. “Hey Chis. Screen eight.”

Chris glides over in the wheely chair.

One day Jane is going to superglue that to the floor.

Chris laughs. “Seriously? Give me the mike.”

Jane knows this is so going to piss off Doug. Chris clears his throat. Geeze. It isn’t a service announcement. Jane takes the mike. “Oy. We’ve watched this show four times already. They won’t count this as overtime. Put your pants back on and get a room people.” And the woman gives them the finger and flashes her boobs. Lovely. That’s what you get for working in a high-end investment firm. People with no inhibitions and the inability to find the bathroom.

This coffee sucks. The good coffee is in the kitchen by the board room on level four. “Chris. I feel like a cappuccino. The star-crossed lovers, or pawn stars, take your pick, are gone. You are up.”

Chris? Jane thinks Chris tries hard, but he loses concentration. Screens Chris. Oh! The screens, but this is so shiny. He has the attention span of a five-year-old. He actually has a five-year-old, so they probably get on really well. Chris is flexing and jumping. He gets a grin from Marty. Jane has to admit, Marty, despite being a tool, is a master.

“You’ve got this.” Marty drags over his chair.

Jane already superglued that to the floor. It didn’t go over well, but it was fucking hilarious.

Jane gives Chris a minute. “Camera twelve. Wait for it. Yes. One down, six to go. He will fuck this next one up.”

Marty doesn’t think so. Chris has been training. “Camera five…” He fists pumps. “Oh yeah. Camera two. If he doesn’t make this, he deserves the Doug monologue. He’s doing well. You wouldn’t know he was there. Here it comes.”

Yes! Jane gives that a ten. “Camera six. The guys won’t go easy. A shadow is still disqualification. Wow. He has been practicing. Eight and eleven have that overlap now. I think team four moved it on purpose. That trips me up every time.” Wait for it. One… Two. “Oh, that was smooth. One more. Nine.” Nine doesn’t look like it will be a problem, but it is set high. It almost covers wall to wall. Jane is at a slight disadvantage. “That was well done. Did it move?”

Marty does a rewind. “I don’t think that is enough to be a disqualification. I give him an eight.”

Jane actually agrees with Marty. That doesn’t happen often.

And there is Chris, wandering back with the coffee tray and a grin. Jane bets he was so caught up with his awesomeness, he forgot the sugar. Nine. Eleven. Eight. Six. Two. Five. Twelve. Yes. Finally something for the team to feel proud of.

“Chris. Chris! Focus. Screen twenty-eight.”

Chris sits back. “Why does she take toilet paper. I checked it out. It’s two-ply sandpaper. She’s pulling in three times what we do. I really don’t get it. If you want to take toilet paper, go to level six you… Screen fourteen. That guy never goes home. He doesn’t seem to be doing anything.”

Marty leans back in his chair. “Thirteen.”

Chris zooms in. “Oh. Oh! Seriously. Once again, would you trust that guy with your life savings? They monitor their internet activity you moron.”

Jane laughs. “He would have been better off just sitting the hall near camera eight. 3D.”

Jane gets comfortable. The front desk was quiet, so Doug should be in a good mood. She watches Doug put his Coffee on the coaster. And here we go. Radio check. Logbook within reach. He hasn’t seen what Marty drew on the inside cover. Light is on green for the police call button. Camera check. Here is where it all falls apart.

Doug leans in. Fifteen needs an adjustment. So does nine. Doug is going to have to take disciplinary action. He runs it back. There. 3:25 am. OK. Twelve. Looks OK. Five. A little low, but acceptable. Camera two. That one is good. Camera six. Sharp. Camera Eight… That one is really good. Eleven. A little blurry. Nine. Yes. Definitely needs repositioning. “I’m sick of having to do this. All in all it was a good night, but it only takes one mistake. One of you will have to throw a bucket of lime water on the wall on the way out. We also had a complaint. Someone said security was abusive. What time?”

Jane looks to Chris.

Chris is nervous. Doug left the camera positioning alone for now. He’s torturing them.

Jane knew the announcement would come back and bite them… bite her. “Three. 2:46.”

Doug rewinds. Three. Those two again. “I get it but telling them to get a room wasn’t the best idea. I had another report. The CEO’s desk had everything swept off onto the floor. He’s going to work from home for the day while the janitorial staff do a deep clean of the desk and the couch. I told him he should let us turn twenty-five back on. He said he would think about it… Don’t interrupt. We all know why twenty-five was switched off in the first place. NDA guys. What happens in the monitoring room stays in the monitoring room. Now. The camera nine incident. I would have let it slide, but I don’t think I can.”

Jane feels sorry for Chris.

Chris knows it’s pointless to argue.

“You might think I’m taking this a little too far, but it’s about reputation. Shift four needs to be taken down a peg. They have been performing well above expectation considering they have Lory. What do you think went wrong Chris?”

Chris shrinks. The pressure is too much. “Camera nine.”

Jane thinks it was OK. Just a slight move. No one but Doug would have picked it up. The other shifts might not even notice. She won’t say anything to Doug. She doesn’t want to pull focus. Of course Marty is looking smug.

“Seriously?” Doug points to each camera. “Twelve. Five. Two. Six. Eight, Eleven. Nine.”

Jane can’t believe she didn’t see it. “Chris, you fucking idiot. Your wedding ring.”

Oh. Chris lowers his head in shame.

Marty is the only one keeping the team from being a laughingstock.

Jane knows what is coming.

Doug takes a still of Camera nine. He sends it to the printer. Once it’s done, he sighs. On one wall are the two banks of fifteen cameras. On the left side wall with the banner ‘Fame’ are 34 pictures of someone flipping the bird. On the back wall are too many ‘Shame’ partials to count. Doug pins the still over some of the ones near the top. There are levels of shame. The wedding ring. So close. “On the positive side. It’s September next week.”

They all whoop. Jane loves September. She’s been training too.

Doug is pleased with the level of enthusiasm. “We’ve got this one. It’s a relay. This year it’s level seven door fifteen to… Drum roll Chris. Level two emergency exit via the roof. The rules have changed. HR isn’t happy. Underwear on people. I know that’s not really photocopying your backside, but their wall of shame is far more public. You must only use your hands to propel the dollies. The cup stacking in the third-floor kitchen is worth extra points. Jane, you’ve got that. Chris. Wheely chair section is down to you. 100 bonus points if you use the stairs. I’m on the cameras. I’ll get you through safely. You know how good team two are with the Nerf guns. Training starts tomorrow.”

Jane shakes her head. “Camera eighteen.”

Doug turns. “Oh seriously. It always happens at end of shift. I hate dawn. Team three are late again. Jane you’ve got this.

Jane gives the glare of death. She saves that for special occasions.

Doug recovers. “Rock, paper, scissors.”