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"Haiku Tunnel"

By Josh Kornbluth

I am an excellent secretary.

I mean, I show up for work on time. I never use the phone for personal calls. (Granted, it

often takes me a few days to figure out how to use the phone for personal calls -- but what I'mtelling you is, even if I knew, I wouldn't... when I'm a temp.)

And I came from a great temp agency too: UNIFORCE.

Hello! I'm from UNIFORCE. Take my cape. Show me to my computer. There's yourdocument. Next! ... Im from UNIFORCE!"

Ask other temps, "where are you from?"

"I'm from the Phil agency."

"I'm from the Sue agency.""I'm from the Frank --"

"Im from the UNIFORCE!"

"Then you must be Josh."

Marlina was the head secretary of the tax group of Schuyler and Mitchell, an enormousdowntown law firm with an unfortunate acronym that I'd been assigned to.

"Welcome, Josh. Welcome to S & M.

-Intro-

Allow me to show you to your room."I thought: "Ooooohhh. As you don't usually get a room when youre a temp, you know.

A lot of times it's: "we'll turn this bucket upside down, you sit on that."

"You know, Josh, you're not going to be working for just any attorney -- you're going tobe working for the top guy here in the Tax Group!"

I gasped! Because, you see, I hadn't done my taxes for seven years. So it was kind of asore spot with me."Here is your room, Josh. Work hard. Enjoy"

I sat down at my desk and I took stock. All I could find was this lonely, forlorn little

envelope moistener. You know, with a squeeze tube and a sponge tip?My phone was ringing -- which was a little weird.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Is this Josh?"

"Um, yeah.""You're Bob Shelby's new secretary, right?"

"Well, I, uh, I'm tempting for him."

"Josh, you don't know me. My name is HELEN! I'm Bob Shelby's previous secretary --or should I say, victim?!"

"Uh-huh..."

" Mark my words well. Bob Shelby is... EEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL!EEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL! BEWARE!!

Bob Shelby -- middle-aged successful attorney, emerged from his office.

"You must be Josh!"

"You must be Bob!

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So this is what I decided: I decided that if I am going to be working for Bob Shelby, I'd

work really hard -- just on the off-chance that he was Satan... you know, you want to make a

good impression.The next day Marlina cornered me in the coffee room. "Jo-o-osh, Bob Shelby really likes

you. Have you considered going perm?

"I'm sorry but I, uh, don't go perm on the first week."I don't know what it was. But it was like she could look right into my soul at that moment

and she could see my weak spot, and she went right for it.

"Now Josh... you go perm, and the firm will cover your... psychotherapy."When I woke up I needed to take a little extra time in bed. As a result I got into work...

Maybe 15 minutes late -- which may not sound like a lot, but it is, if you're a legal secretary.

Whenever Shelby walked past my desk it sent shivers down my spine. I never knew when

his true satanic colors were going to come out -- his horns would pop out, and his tail. Hed go"Jo-o-ossssshh..." Foom!!! Puff of smoke, and I'm a toadstool!

After lunch, Bob Shelby called me into his office. "Josh, perhaps I'm missing something.

But it seems to me that last week, when you were a temp, your productivity was very high.

Whereas this week, as a perm, your productivity... well."I'm sorry, sir. I know my productivity's been down but, you see, it's because I've been,

um, um... Setting Up My Systems!""Systems, eh? I like that. But Josh, I hope you're done with those soon. Because I have

about 85 letters, very important letters. Must go out right away. Okay?

I did not mess around. I typed up 85 or so letters. I printed them out. I xeroxed them. I

typed the envelopes... but I did not... mail them.As a secretary, I need something easy to do -- on standby, at all times. So that in case I

should be given something difficult to do, something that might hurt my brain, I can at any time

jump to the letters. I think those letters are what got me through the bills on Wednesday. I thinkthose letters are what got me through the expense reports on Thursday.

A few weeks later, I'm rooting around this huge pile on my desk, looking for a file, when

I happen to uncover... THE LETTERS which I had totally forgotten about. It was like a slap ofreality.

What should I do? Should I leave them in the OUT box?... no, no -- too risky. What if

they're still in the OUT box and Shelby happens to amble out of his office? "Hey, that's a lot ofletters in my OUT box. I haven't mailed any letters today. That's about 85 or so letters... wait --

weren't those letters to go out Jo-o-ossssssshh..."

I know: I'll wait until Shelby gets one on one of his incredibly long conference calls.

"Hello, Bill -- yes, it's me. No, I'm not. Are you? Okay -- so neither of us is touchinganything. Margaret, are you wearing your gloves Good. Let's get down to business then.

So I got my envelope moistener poised over the first envelope flap, I ran it over the flap

-- it didn't seal! I felt the flap. It was not moist.I felt the sponge tip. It was as hard as a rock. I squeezed really hard and the top flew off

and all the water poured out and moistened the letters and envelopes at once. They all mixed

together into this organic glop. So, operating on pure instinct, I took everything off the top of mydesk, and briefcase and I took an early lunch.

Okay so I'm sitting at my table in McDonald's -- next to me, a briefcase filled with

glopped-together letters. In order to save my job, I have to make the ultimate sacrifice: I have to

come in and work on the weekend. So be it.

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I came in late Saturday afternoon, went up to my desk, called up the document with the

85 or so letters, hit PRINT -- and waited.

Oh, the printer must be out of paper! But when I got to the printer a little readout windowdid not say, "PAPER OUT It said, "PRINTER READY."

Normally the central computer leads a very boring existence. But every once in a while

and some absent-minded person will forget to initialize his printer -- and that's when the centralcomputer gets to... let its hair down:

"Let's see. Where shall I pray tell those letters to cause young Joshua maximum

discomfort? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"I went into the printer directory. It told me the computer had printed them out in room

1122.

I went up to the 11th floor. It's the criminal division of S. & M.

1122. I pushed the door open, stepped inside, and there, across a crowded little office,nestled in the top of the Hewlett-Packard 2000 BX Laser Jet printer, were my 85 or so letters!

"I'm here! I'm here!"

"Oh, Josh, you've come for us!"

"Of course I have.""But Josh, why did you print this out all the way over here?"

"Oh, you know me...And my letters and I were just about to make our getaway when the door opened... and in

walked a young woman. Then I remembered: the Criminal Division.

"Litigation report! Printed out on the wrong printer! Sorry, gotta go!"

"Do you work in this building?""Yes."

"What group do you work in?"

"The Tax Group.""Oh."

I brought the letters back to my desk, put them back in their pile, covered them up. I'll

deal with mailing them out during the week sometime.When I woke up on Monday morning, I leapt out of bed. I ran into the shower. I leapt Out

of the shower -- which I know is dangerous. I was just feeling that way. I was running early.

And when I got to work... "JOSH, COME IN HERE!!!" He had never barked at me before!As I entered Shelby's office, I realized the letters!

"So Josh. I know what you are going to think. You're going to think there's a double

standard here. And you know something, Josh? You'll be right. But it's just the way it is. So I

insist that, as my secretary... you keep your desk neat and clean at all times.""Uh... Sir, is that... it?"

"Josh, you do what I think your problem is? I think you just have an artistic temperament.

Now, this is what I think are going to do. You're going back out to your desk, settle down,focus... and catch up."

"Yes, sir, I will."

I looked at my desk. There were the letters. No longer do the letters say to me "comfort."No longer do they say "guilt." They were just... letters. I took them out of their boxes, put them

on the desk in front of me, began sealing them and putting them in the out box. I didn't feel

depressed. I didn't feel anxious. I just felt... normal.