Rounding Out the Thirtieth Floor...

Mitchell Cantwell is in his mid-thirties. His deep voice, boxy haircut, square jaw, and mechanical movements contribute to his inhuman aura. Mitchell will be the prototype for future robot servants.

Like most, Mitchell is an asky guy who declares it imperative I order him every device about which he reads on random websites.

Several months ago, I created a fake technology blog that raved about the Apple iCarumba 5G. I emailed Mitchell the link from a fake address and name. With old cell phones and other antiquated gadgetry, I fashioned a hip looking contraption of which I took professional quality pictures. I included the best photographs in the blog post along with dazzling reviews from technology experts throughout the world. Within the hour, Mr. Cantwell had in a most urgent request for a product that has never existed. He didn't respond to my respectful email indicating that upon him a fast one had been pulled.

The CFO, Frank Beck, 41, is a cross between George Costanza and Cindy Brady. George Costanza in appearance, and Cindy Brady in speech impediment and bad-habit of squealing on peers.


From: Frank Beck

To: Daniel Patel

Subject: Murph

Sent: Wednesday, August 5, 2009 11:37 AM


I'm perusing time sheets more thoroughly and noticed Murph is working inordinate overtime. My combing is unprecedented. Perhaps she's been gaming the system for months? I'll dig further and update you. Be thinking of appropriate retribution and, if there's substantive reasoning, I'll run it by Ophelia.



Keeping my mouth shut was difficult, but I had no alternative. My name still prettifies a thirtieth floor door because Mr. Patel swiftly responded with four words: All Murph overtime preapproved. Almost makes me feel bad about ruining his marriage . . .

Frank Beck is my second favorite target.Lastly, there is our in-house attorney, Ophelia Udall. She's a forty-year-old African-American bookworm whose father professes at an Ivy League institution. The finest dressed female on the thirtieth floor, Ophelia grayed prematurely. Currently her hair is a perfect blend of black and silver. Though she holds the most degrees from the most prestigious universities, Ophelia converses like an every woman.

Preferring my own brand of justice, I have no patience for lawyers, particularly one who incorrectly assumes I have no more skills than a pink-collared worker.

I enjoy making Ophelia a target. I do not fear battling her before a judge. She possesses the legal expertise while I have mastered the art of appearing likable.

As well as the one fellow I actually revere, you have now been presented with information about every contemptible bastard and bitch that spends a third of each weekday on the thirtieth floor.