Illinoir

The bigger question was, what the hell was Stephanie Green doing with magnets? Candle holders were her domain. Was she branching out? Was Cola branching out? It was a mystery that I had to get to the bottom of.

With my theme music playing in my head (“duh duh duh da duh dun da duh dee duh dah duh dee duh da da da duh dahhhhhh”) I stole over to the PD room, knocked on the door frame (did not say “Knock knock!”) and entered. The Four Shoppers looked up at me, acknowledged my entrance and went back to whatever it was that they called work.

Except for Kelly. Ostensibly their leader (though not the department head; just the Alpha Female in the room.) She fixed me with a glare and beckoned me over. Kelly was all about mirrors and clocks. Fucking mirrors. Want to sell a mirror? Take a picture of it, then select the shiny, reflective part — the part that makes a mirror a mirror — and make it look like clouds. That’s right, I said clouds. Photoshop has a handy filter for this. I never knew what it was for before I started at Cola. Apparently it’s for mirrors. Clocks are generally easier — just make sure the hands are at 10 and 2 (positions that aren’t just for driving — with hands at 10 and 2, the clock evokes the golden ratio, making it more attractive to the customer.) Head bowed and humble, I approached her desk. It was best not to make eye contact, or really, to look at anything but one’s own shoes. Risking her ire was a dangerous game, one that I played almost every day, but always from a distance. Face to face, Kelly was a force to be reckoned with. I preferred passive aggressive measures, at a safe remove.