Morning comes quick as I awake to the blaring of my alarm clock. The urge to get up is overwhelmed by my desire to stay in bed. I've never been a morning person, and I dread getting up each day at eight in the morning. For a moment, I think of calling off sick for the day, but I can't. Its the day of my interview and the end means to my money problems. I can't screw up now, not after all the hard work I've done there. I can't make Bill regret his decision for choosing me to take over this position.
One question has gone through my mind though. Why would a group of alpha testers need a supervisor? Does it mean that I'll be handling reports and other boring tasks? God, I hope not if that's the case. As much as I love writing up daily reports and memos as the next guy, I'd prefer to just be one of the players. What can I do though; I've already accepted the position from Bill and now he's expecting me to go through with it. I can't get cold feet now, especially if it's based on speculation.
I take a shower, get dressed, and head into the kitchen of my apartment to grab breakfast. My apartment is pretty cozy. I have a bedroom, laundry room, living room, and kitchen. It's honestly not much to write home about, but, it serves its purpose well. It's located about twenty minutes away from work if I walk. I thought that this would be the smartest choice for me to choose at the time, considering that I don't have a car. Cars have gotten to be so expensive in recent years due to the over-usage of natural resources. The United States government has imposed new taxes on gas to encourage its citizens were to use more environment-friendly means of transportation. Now, most people travel to their destinations on foot, bicycles, or electric scooters.
Breakfast for me each day is a couple buttered slices of toast— a few cubes of cheddar and white cheese— strawberry yogurt with granola crumbs— and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. I know it's not that exciting, but it's all I can afford at the moment. I usually don't have enough time to eat everything, so I find myself packing the remaining leftovers into my lunch bag for work. There are no rules against eating on the job. So I keep the rest as a snack for later to keep myself from going hungry.
After eating what I can, I grab my coat and my bags before heading out of the door. My body shivers to the cold wind blowing. The winters here in Philadelphia are unforgiving, we may not get so much snow but when do it's a nightmare. Last winter we had a large storm that left us with nineteen inches that didn't melt for a few weeks after it first fell. A lot of people were left without work until the government was able to clear out the streets, and the walkways with the help of able citizens. It saddens me how backward the world has become with the depletion of energy resources. When I was a kid, I remember these streets being filled with cars and the angry drivers behind them. The noise of the bustling city has long been dead and replaced with an eerie silence.
My commute to work is always the same path, cutting through the decaying skyscrapers of the outskirts into the heart of the city. Broken company signs hang from the buildings in disrepair, completely forgotten by the world that surrounds them. These areas are a bit unsafe if you don't know how to mind your business. Drug dealers and prostitution are commonplace in these decaying buildings and alleyways; even more than before the economy collapsed three years ago. People are desperate to find an escape from their lives, and so they find themselves here in the slums shooting up, smoking up, or whatever they need to forget their lives for a moment.
Beggars and the homeless also fill the streets, which is why I try to avoid the main streets. They are all people who had lost their jobs from companies that relied on oil. Jobs that stretched across the fields of agriculture, chemicals, and health-care. I always feel guilty when passing by and I'm not able to give anything to help them. If I gave a dollar to one person, I'd feel the need to give to everyone else. So to avoid conflict and feelings, I take this path each day. As terrible as this sounds, I can barely provide for myself. I have nothing to spare or give, as much as I wish I could. Maybe someday, I may be able to contribute back and help these poor souls. If only I was that lucky.
Before too long, I find myself running up the concrete steps of the building. In front of the building is a large fountain with a statue of The Seer in battle with the goblin king, Lug. The powerful clashing of the short-sword of Lug and The Seer's staff of the void are emphasized by the water spurting almost like sparks. The goblin king quest line is required for players if they plan to progress through their jobs. Lug drops a legendary vial named, The Teardrops of Lug. This item, if combined with a few herbs, allows the player to break their mold, and achieve the ability to learn better skills. In other games, it'd be similar to job advancement. You complete a level required quest, meet the conditions, and get promoted to a new job.
I walk into the main lobby and head up to my floor. The time, eight-fifty in the morning flashes on my computer screen. I'm ten minutes early for my shift for once. I can actually get some things done before my shift begins.
"Good-mornin', Eli," Charles toasts his coffee mug, "That was one hell of a game night, wasn't it?" Charles begins typing away at the login screen and clocks in for the day.
"The understatement of the day," I tease him, "He actually followed through with the experience blessing."
"I was able to level up quite a bit. I can finally do the Lug quest line, after trying to level up for the past week." He turns back towards me as he puts on his headset.
"Oh boy, you got the billing queue today? That really sucks." I turn towards my computer and log in to the main screen and check my email for my daily assignment. I'm also assigned to the billing queue today. However, my time for three in the afternoon is marked as training up until seven. I kind of figured I'd be getting a lot of extra overtime. The management team must be trying to over-exhaust me. Hopefully, this isn't going to be my average workday.
"What duty are you charged with today?" Charles questions me.
"Same here man, and training later on." I go through the rest of my emails. Nothing different appears from the daily newsletters, queue numbers, and daily reports that are essential to know for the workday.
"Training, why would you need training? Did you argue with a customer?" Charles grins and eagerly awaits an answer.
"I didn't tell you last night, did I?" I rub that back of my head, "Bill wants me to supervise a team in the expansion's alpha testing." Charles jaw drops at the news. A hint of shock and curiosity are obviously shown on his face.
"How the hell did you manage that? Is that why I saw you going up with him last night?" Charles asks. Did he not immediately leave after talking with us last night?
"Yea. He wanted to talk to me about my application I put in, and he just kinda offered it," I say proudly.
"I still have to interview with him and HR later today."
"So he pretty much just handed you a promotion? Luck you man, I wouldn't tell everyone that, though." Charles gives warning. I don't understand why I couldn't talk about my promotion with the rest of my coworkers. Would they not be happy to see a fellow colleague succeed, and would jealousy prevent me from holding my new position?
"Why would there be an issue sharing the news?" I ask concerned by his worry.
"It's just that you haven't been here as long as some of the others. It might cause them to complain to upper- level management and Bill would have to act on it." Charles sighs as his headset begins to ring.
"Just be careful, Withers. I'm getting a call so we can chat more about this later." Charles clicks the button on his phone and begins his call. His eyes squint as he focuses on the words the customer is saying. It's a common issue since the company only gives us the bare essentials when it comes to technology. You can barely hear anyone speaking, and the customers have the same issue as well.
This day is going by quick and smooth as I await the clock to strike two. All the phone calls coming in are just simple tasks, mostly people locked out of their accounts or unable to access the email address associated with their accounts. It honestly takes me by surprise at how pleasant the calls were today. It's nice not to be screamed at about being overcharged, or an unauthorized purchase.
Before I knew it the clock in the corner of my screen is showing a quarter before two. I don't see the harm in signing off a little early, just to run over some questions they might ask me. Going through each question I feel that they'd ask, I feel confident about the interview. Charles must be thinking I'm going crazy as I sit here and talk to myself under my breath. Even though that I feel I'm ready, there's this feeling of uneasiness rising from inside of me. A feeling that I can't seem to shake off as the interview draws near.
I can't let it stop me. I might as well head up to HR now before I end up quitting and running out of the building. I'm not the type to run away from my problems, but when I'm this nervous, it almost feels like the best course of action even when it's not. So I find myself grabbing the stack of papers I had signed before walking towards the elevator in slow pace trying to put myself back together. My nervousness weaves itself into my speaking patterns, as well as my body posture. If I cannot keep myself together, it will show them that I am not capable of being a leader. It will show not only that, but I won't be able to handle situations under stress.
I press the button to the elevator and gaze up at the floor indicators as the elevator slowly descends to my current floor, number four. Entering the elevator, my finger nearly slips onto the emergency button when I try to choose the tenth floor. The elevator sounds rickety as I ascend upwards through the building, sounds of grinding gears occasionally echoing from outside. Elevators have always made me nervous, but they more convenient than going up flights of steps. I notice myself in the reflection of one of the elevator's walls.
I place my hand on my stomach and frown, "God I'm getting fat."
As much as I hate it, it's the truth. I barely move at all during the day other than walking to and from work and to the break-room. My chestnut color hair is also starting to get too long. I wish I would have thought this on my way home last night. I'm sure my neighbor, Ms. Doughty, wouldn't have minded cutting it for a few extra dollars. She's like an aunt to me because of how she's always there for me when I need her. She's helped me numerous times when I was at my lowest or needed a meal. A true friend she is; as well as someone I consider family.
The elevator stops on the tenth floor. My heart is beating fast, and I feel like I'm about to faint.
I slap both sides of my face, "Put yourself together, Eli Withers." Taking a deep breath, I walk down the long hallway towards that familiar door. Taking another breath, I knock on the door.
"Is it okay to come in?" I lean towards the door trying to hear a response.
"Come in, Mr. Withers."
As I open the door, I see Bill and someone I haven't met before. An older man, much older than Bill, sat across from him next to an empty seat. He gave me a smile; one that felt warm and inviting. His smile makes me feel at ease as I flash one back at him. I feel like I've seen him before, but I can't place my finger on where.
"Why don't you have a seat next to me, Mr. Withers." The man patted the seat next to him.
"Eli. Eli is just fine if you'd please." I walk over and seat myself next to the stranger.
"Well, Eli it is. I'm Artie Easton, director of human resources. Call me Artie." Artie smiles again as he extends his hand out to me. Shaking his hand, I remember where I saw him before. He was on the wall in the hallway, among other company officials.
"Well let's get this show going," Bill folds his hands on the desk, "Eli and I talked yesterday about the position, and he expressed that he was interested as well as taking over as a supervisor."
"I see," Artie shuffles through the papers on his clipboard, "Before you came in Bill answered some of the unimportant things for me. I just have a few questions that I need you to answer."
I lean back into my seat and take a deep breath before straightening my posture.
"That's fine, what's the first one?"
"Straight to the point, I like that." Artie folds his legs before going over the sheet and readying his pen.
"Can you tell me a time when you were forced to make a decision in a challenging work assignment? What was the course of action you took, and what was the outcome?"
My mind draws a blank. There's not really much that I had to do other than negotiate a customer's ban appeal. Those can be difficult depending on the amount of information we have regarding the reason for the ban.
"I have learned that ban appeals can be a bit difficult at times. I remember one time that someone was detected by our anti-cheating system. The player claimed to not have done it and that he was banned wrongly. After looking at the system logs, I was able to determine that he was macroing skills to gain an advantage. However, macroing isn't expressly mentioned within our terms of service. This made it difficult for me to determine whether or not he was banned fairly. After some thought on the matter, I thought that if he was using a third party software to help him progress, it would be considered cheating. So as difficult as it was for me to explain this to him, I had to keep the ban on the account."
"I probably would have done the same too," Artie finishes what I assume are notes from my explanation, "Did you ever express this concern to your superior?"
"I flagged the appeal and forwarded it to my supervisor explaining the situation, but, I was never updated. I still haven't seen it being mentioned in the terms of service as well, so I assume he didn't look at it."
"Lovely," Bill shakes his head, "I'll look into that with our ban arbitration team later."
"Right, so the next question. Lets see." Artie's directs his attention back at the clipboard, briefly.
"During the training period, you will come across some company trade secrets. Because of this, we will monitor your Internet traffic up to and including any online messages, forum or image board posts, and uploading of files at work or at home. Any information that is considered by the company to be compromising and-or a breach of the contract will lead to termination and possible legal action. Have you read, understand, and signed the disclosure in the provided packet?"
They are going to monitor my home network? It's not like I planned to leak out any information regarding the game to media outlets anyway. I have nothing to hide, so I can't really see the harm, although it is a bit creepy. I'm really going to have to read over this if they'll give me a copy.
"Yes I have, but, I didn't see the part about monitoring everything I do at home. It's not a problem, but, would the company be using a program to remotely view my computer?"
"We would just monitor the data by connecting you to our virtual private network. We won't have access to whats on your computer." Artie assures me.
"We're definitely not interested in what may be in your folders." Bill laughs to himself.
"There isn't a need for us to know what you do in your spare time. However, we just want to make sure you're not releasing sensitive information to the public." Artie smiles.
"Well the last question I have for you today is— " Artie turns another page behind the clipboard after writing down something, "Can you tell me why this position interests you?"
"This may seem a bit typical of any applicant to say, but, I enjoy the game and love what the company has continued to do for it over the years. I think I speak for any other player when it comes to the dedication of the team, and the progress they have made over the years. I guess what I'm trying to say is, is that I want to take part in making the game better. I'd do anything to ensure that it is even more successful so that I can continue exploring the world of Nadeen."
"I'm glad to hear that," Artie smiles at me, "Well that concludes my questions unless Mr. Ramis has any?" Artie turns his gaze to Bill. Bill just shakes his head silently.
"So I believe that you'll make a good addition as Bill so adamantly vouched too. In the mean time, go ahead and go home for the rest of the day. That way we can work your credentials into the system. So in the mean time why don't you go home and come back in tomorrow. Report to human resources immediately upon your arrival. For the next few days, you'll be going through an orientation with your subordinates."