Rob Bell stared out the window of the 17th floor of the Cayman building at the setting sun. The sky had an orange-looking hue to it as the sun set further and further. He’d always enjoyed seeing the sunset anywhere he lived. Throughout his early life it had been a sure sign that the day’s work was done. Rob watched the sun dip further over the horizon leaving only a sliver of sunlight beaming into the twilight, Florida sky. Gainesville was a summer community and many of its residents and visitors were surely watching the same sunset from much more relaxed atmospheres. Just before the sun made its way out of sight for the evening, Rob’s tranquil escape was abruptly interrupted.
“Bell… you still with us? Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to stare into the sun? Come on guy I need you focused here. Gimmie some numbers!” The curt sound of an authoritarian voice cut through the silence in the room.
The day’s work at the Cayman Bottling Company executive office was indeed not over. Rob swiveled his chair back toward the oval shaped conference table, and glanced at the spreadsheet on his laptop. He then rose from his chair nervously scratching the back of his neck. He looked over the faces of his peers that were sitting around the table, and cautiously gave his response.
“Sir what we are looking has no bright-side, it appears that we are going to have to choose the lesser of two evils,” he said as he stared off into space across the large conference room. “If we take this loan, it will be enough for us to close up, re-structure and maybe re-enter the market profitably but…”
“Aaah, but nothing!” A hound-like voice thundered from the head of the table. “We’ll set up a meeting with the bankers tomorrow, iron things out and make our announcement. Meeting adjourned, go the hell home everyone.” Jack Paige, the chief executive officer of the company bellowed out a cloud of cigar smoke with a junkyard dog like scowl on his face as he glared across the room.
He stood and looked on, puffing his cigar as the board members shuffled out the conference room door. Rob stalled in the doorway and sheepishly reentered the room.
“Ssuh… sir, can I speak to you please?” he nervously stammered.
Jack turned around to face Rob; he had an intimidating figure and posture that certainly was not an accidental trait. After inheriting the Cayman Bottling Company from his father, Jack became known for his standoffish business practices. Squaring off toe-to-toe was how Jack waged all of his battles.
“What is it Bell?” Jack crossed his arms and glared at Rob with annoyance.
“Sir don’t you think what we are doing is wrong? I mean, what about the floor-workers in the plants? Don’t you realize what will happen to them?”
Rob nervously awaited Jack’s answer. He was fatigued and stressed. He knew that he needed to proceed with caution in questioning his boss. After all he was a mere lowly accountant, and in the company’s state of affairs Rob was well aware that he was replaceable.
“Sit,” Jack sharply gestured towards the conference table, cigar between his fingers as he pointed.
Rob followed suit, casually sliding into one of the leather office chairs at the table. The high back of the chair towered over his small figure. Jack strolled over to the mahogany countertop bar on the far side of the room, and poured himself a glass of scotch.
“Would you care for a drink Rob?”
“No thank you sir.” Rob was aware of Jack’s ulterior motive.
Sure he offered him a drink, but it wasn’t out of generosity. Jack was trying to set him up. As a smaller built man, Rob always had a slight complex towards people who were larger than him. He had a feeling that Jack was trying to manipulate him, make him loosen up and become more agreeable to the terms of the raw deal that the company was about to make.
“Rob you’re an educated man. Let me pay you the service of being blunt.” Jack said as he slowly prowled back toward the conference table, glass of scotch in hand.
“Our business is in a state of emergency;[1] in order for this company to continue to exist we’ve got to take measures that may not serve the interests of everyone here. Business is business, nothing personal, we execute the deal and move on and it’s all behind us. We close up shop for about a year, work out a few kinks and before you know it we’re back on track.”
Rob cocked his head slightly sideways in a bird-like manner and responded. “I am familiar with that sir. But these workers have families; they don’t get a choice in any of this, just a hard goodbye with minimal notice while we retain our jobs and benefits.[2]”
Jack’s attitude quickly changed as he responded. He slammed his glass on the conference table. “Look Rob, I don’t think I should have to remind you of who’s in charge here. I still don’t understand what you are so worried about. You will be taken care of, and that is all you should care about. I have made my decision and I – on principle – will NOT argue with you on this! Now unless you’re prepared to tell me something that I don’t already know, there’s the door.”
“You’re right sir; I guess I’m just tired.” Rob humored Jack with his answer, fearfully rose and quickly left the room.
The wind picked up as Rob walked toward the parking lot to his car. The flapping sound of a flag filled the air as he paced past the flag pole in front of the building. He briefly paused, glanced up and saw the American flag gracefully flying in the wind. Luminescent lights beamed up at old glory from the courtyard below, a beautiful sight indeed.
As he turned and continued to walk, Rob thought about the American dream, the world of business and how it isn’t fair. Pacing across the median into the parking lot, Rob stepped off the curb and felt a crunch underneath his foot. He looked down to the sight of a crushed soda can with the barely readable words “Cayman Bottling” printed on the bottom of the can.
He shook his head and continued the walk to his car. Where had he gone wrong? Whatever happened to the honest working man that he used to be?
Disillusioned, Rob got into his car and began the drive home. He felt defeated.
[1] Todorova, Zdravka. “What Makes a Bailout Acceptable?.” Journal of Economic Issues. Association for Evolutionary Economics, Vol. XLIII. No. 2. June 2009 Web. 10 June. 2011.
[2] Krisher, Tom, and Dan Strumpf. “GM Bankruptcy Looms As Bondholders Shun Tender Offer.” Huffingtonpost Business. The Huffington Post, 27 May. 2009. Web. 10 June. 2011.
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