Main Floor, 6:32pm
"I'll be back in five minutes," calls out a manager.
"If you need help, just help each other," he says. "But no talking!"
For a couple minutes after he leaves, the main floor is quiet, save for the shuffling of papers and the clicking of keys.
But we're only human.
I notice Melissa, sitting next to me, bringing up a new screen on her computer. She lets out a squeal.
"Paychecks!"
Most of us drop what we're doing and cluster around her. She's brought up her bank details online and there it is -- her first paycheck from this job, sitting in her account.
That means that our paychecks are sitting in our bank accounts. They'll be for the same amount - all fourteen of us had compared hourly rates the night of the Parking Tickets Crisis when money was the hot topic.
Tonight, money is on everyone's minds again. We all crowd around and crane our heads to get a closer look at that number on the screen where Melissa is pointing.
"I guess that's right."
"Not a second too late."
"I've already spent half that."
"Geez, they take enough out for withholding."
"They better start giving us Saturdays. That's where the money is."
"I don't want to work Saturdays."
"Me neither, but it's like, double pay."
"Yeah, but did you hear when they're going to make us start? Eight am."
"That's crazy! I sleep in till noon!"
"Big money, though."
"But think of how dead we'll be. We will have worked till 10pm the night before. And on top of that, we all take at least forty five minutes to get home."
I bit my lip. Shouldn't have gone there.
"Even you?" says one temp, turning to face me.
Several others turn to look at me.
"Yeah," I say, maybe a little too loudly, my face turning red. "It's just as long in the other -- it's just as long heading North."
"Hey people! That better be a customer problem you're all working on!" says the manager, making us all jump.
People melt away to their desks.
Except for Sara, who lingers by mine.
"Don't the houses up where you live cost, like, a million dollars?" she whispers.
"Tons of houses in this town cost a million dollars. It's not like I'm in the fanciest part of town. You know that."
"Yeah, but still." She's like a dog with a bone.
"So? Mortgage? Hello? Maybe you've heard there's a recession going on?"
"Do you have a pool?"
"Yes."
"Can you see the water?"
"No. Are you kidding? They're the ones who are loaded. Now come on, we're going to get into trouble. Mike is standing right here," I say, motioning to where he's leaning over Melissa, explaining something on the screen.
"So?" Sara is undeterred.
"So we should be working. I want to make it to the next paycheck. See you at break."
"Coke?"
"Definitely. At break."
"You borrow the badge tonight."
"Okay."
7:09pm, Break Room
The temps are still obsessing about money.
"So what have you already spent it on?"
"A jumpsuit," says Courtney. "Two hundred and fifty bucks."
"A jumpsuit?" I can't help myself.
"Yeah, a jumpsuit," came the retort. "I wore it last night. Didn't anyone notice?"
People looked around. Courtney pressed on.
"Jumpsuits are back in style. Weren't they last in, in the 1980s?" she directed the question to me.
"Uhhhhhh." A parade of torn sweatshirts, ballet leggings, and ripped jeans flashes before my eyes, but I don't see any jumpsuits. "I'm not sure."
"They were," she insists.
"If you say so."
Her iPhone rings and she looks down at the screen and frowns.
"I need to find a rich boyfriend."
"Seriously?"
She pretends not to hear me, and takes the call.
"Any more word on the full time job?" someone asks Steffi.
"No, and not on my husband's job, either," she says.
She gets up to join Heidi, who's heading out for a cigarette.
"Wait for me."
"But you don't smoke."
"This will be my first cigarette in two years," she admits. "But I'm over it. I'm too stressed."
"I know what you mean," says Heidi. They leave.
"Well, I'll tell you one thing," said Sharon, sharply. "I pulled up email to see the pay stub, and it's not done how it should be. It's not wrong, but it's missing a lot of stuff that should be on there.
I did payroll for ten years in my last job, and if I'd tried to get away with doing a pay stub like that, I would have gotten into big trouble. It's unprofessional, is what it is."
"Are you going to call Kumar?"
"Maybe," she said darkly.
Justin comes into the break room.
"I didn't know it was break."
"You would know, if you didn't sit so far away from the rest of us."
"Yeah, but I like it that way."
"What are you doing over there, anyways? I heard you're working on different stuff than the rest of us."
"Special project," he says, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets and rocking backward and forward on his feet. "Can't talk about it."
"Come on."
"No," he insists. "Need-to-know basis only."
"Okay, well, I need to know."
He grins and shakes his head. Then he looks over toward an empty space in the room.
"Still no vending machines down here?"
"Not yet. They said any day now," I tell him.
"We should probably get back to work," says Sara, standing up.
I join her, and as we get to the door, I see Cacee bearing down on us from the other side of the door.
I hastily hold the door open for her and squeeze myself back to the wall, hoping to disappear.
She barrels through and continues on.
I breathe a sigh of relief and let Sara through, and follow.
As I get back to my desk, I look hopefully over at Amber's desk, but it's empty.
I frown. If she's in tomorrow night, I'm going to demand she tell me why I haven't been offered a full time job. I don't care how busy she is. I don't even care if she's on the phone with the entire nation of Singapore. I'm tired of waiting and I've got to know. Surely I'm as good as Steffi and Vanessa at this job.
So what's her problem?
Tomorrow night, I vow, I will find out.
