The Life and Times of the Man by Roman Kashuba

Jim Johnson looked on as the faceless workers removed the sign from his store. Jim Johnson’s Family Eatery was no more. Karl sidled over to Jim bearing several papers and a check. Jim hadn’t even been told Karl’s last name. In fact Jim asked several times, yet Karl simply skirted around the topic insisting that they were on a first name basis. In actuality Karl refused to tell any “clients” his full name because of some un-pleasantries with disgruntled former “clients.” This way if anyone got angry again, Karl could simply disappear into the enormous anonymous bureaucratic structures of Aunt Betty’s Family Restaurant Corporation Incorporated, member FDIC. (This last part had to be included in the name because legally Aunt Betty’s is also a lending institution, and any lending institution insured by the FDIC has to advertise this fact after their name.)

You see, I’m here cause another victim has been brought to his knees by the Aunt Betty’s menace. Another poor sucker whose only crime was being just successful enough to get noticed. Who am I kidding? Successful or not, you be crushed regardless. It’s just the nature of the beast. It’s so damn huge that everything get swallowed in its path. Maybe some of these ma and pa places just become lint in Aunt Betty’s belly button, they don’t care. It’s easier to forget about some lint, than it is to keep swatting at a fly. Anyways, they’ll get what’s coming to them. Which remind me.

Back in front of what used to be Jim Johnson’s Family Eatery, Karl approached Jim with the calm, somber, yet hopeful walk that he had learned during sensitivity training. He repeated the important points in his head as he walked: 1) slow deliberate steps, 2) do not force eye contact, but don’t avoid it either, 3) be positive, but don’t come off as if you take joy in the “client’s” situation, and most importantly 4) present the situation as an unparalleled opportunity for the “client.” Karl finally made it across the parking lot and engaged Jim with a Ken doll look that was far more distant and lifeless then the actual Ken doll. “Hey, Jim, this is some opportunity for you, huh?” Jim continued to watch the workers who had now moved on to the interior and had already gutted the tables and chairs. “Jim?”

“Sorry, what?”

“I said this is some opportunity for you, huh?”

Jim grumbled more than anything, and Karl took this as a response and moved the conversation in a new direction.

“So, listen, Jim, I have a few more things for you to sign and then the check is all yours.”

“Sure, yeah. What have you got?”

“Ok, this one says that Aunt Betty’s can use any or all of your existing menu to improve its own premium selection, and that we do not have to credit you in any of our menus, displays, advertisements, merchandise, or restaurants. Sign here.”

Jim signed, like he always did. Like everyone always did. Aunt Betty’s had taken over all the restaurants in downtown Libertyville, and the few owners who did not bow to the Aunt Betty’s juggernaut were ruthlessly crushed as examples for the rest. Such was the case of Fred Rogers, who owned Rogers’ Restaurants. See, Fred thought that because he had a franchise of five restaurants, he could ride out the Aunt Betty’s storm. Thus, when Aunt Betty’s offered to buy him out for $500,000 a restaurant, Rogers slammed the door in their face.

Now, Aunt Betty’s only offers twice. The first time they bring you fountains of port and fine cigars to celebrate. The second time they bring fountains of paper work and fine lawyers to badger you into submission. This way Aunt Betty’s always plays by the rules at first. Granted these are their rules as it’s always the victor that gets to define the game for the future. Anyway, Rogers slammed the door in their faces both times, essentially declaring war. So Aunt Betty’s took the hefty check off the table and opened a restaurant next door to every Rogers’ in town and mimicked Rogers’ menu exactly. Except that at Rogers’ the lobster bisque is $5.50 and at Aunt Betty’s it’s $3.99. At Roger’s the chef salad is $4.00 and at Betty’s it’s $2.99. At Rogers a BLT is $3.00 and at Betty’s it’s $2.49. You get the picture. Betty’s undercut Rogers at every turn, operating at a loss for about six months until Rogers folded. The day that Rogers put his land up for sale, Betty’s bought every building for $100,000 a piece, leveled them, and turned them into parking lots. Rogers filed for bankruptcy and ended up working at a Betty’s for $7.50 an hour. From then on everyone knew that this was what happened to people who resisted Betty’s.

Back in front of Jim’s, Karl continues with the paper work: “This one says that you have not been coerced in a physical, financial, or legal manner, or in any other manner, and that you relinquish your right to sue Aunt Betty’s for any past, present, or future misdeeds including acts of anti-competitive behavior, predatory pricing, bribery, extortion, and/or gross financial misconduct, but not excluding any other crimes be they felonies or misdemeanors. Sign here.”

Jim signed.

“And here’s your check. Aunt Betty’s thanks you for a civil and business-like transaction. And from everyone at Aunt Betty’s Family Restaurant Corporation Incorporated, member FDIC, we thank you and wish you well.”

Jim shook Karl’s hand and stood motionless watching his life’s work being gutted and renovated into a perfect cog in the corporate wheel. Karl stood by Jim’s side, waited the legally required 60 seconds for the transitions to take effect and turned to Jim.

“Now, that all this is taken care of, I must ask you to leave the premises.”

“But, I want to see what you’re doing to this place.”

“Actually, you’re no longer the legal owner of this property, nor do you work for Aunt Betty’s or a contractor or sub-contractor of Aunt Betty’s, therefore Aunt Betty’s defines you as a competitor and as such you are not to be allowed to see the internal workings of Aunt Betty’s. Therefore, you must leave immediately or risk a severe fine.”

Defeated, Jim turned and left his former business.

Once the former owners are sucked dry and left with the awful taste of a hostile corporate take over in their mouths, I sweep in and offer them the one thing that no defeated man can refuse: revenge.

“Do you want to go shit in their burgers?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you wanna go shit in their burgers?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you wanna switch their flour with laundry detergent?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna kick Karl in the balls?”

“No.”

“Dear God. Am I too late? Have they completely rid you of all your human desires?”

“Who the hell are you and why do you want to shit in their burgers?”

“I don’t want to shit in their burgers; I want you to shit in their burgers. See, I am the man without a name I make my living giving cheap thrills to those who were utterly defeated by Aunt Betty’s. And you, Jim, were utterly defeated. For the love of God, you don’t even want to kick Karl in the balls.”

“No, I don’t want to kick anyone in the balls.”

“Well, than what? What can I help you with? What will make you feel better?”

“I wanna take them down. I wanna watch Aunt Betty’s helplessly struggle while I slowly and painfully run them out of business. I want revenge.”

“Excellent.”

You see, I’m no small time vandal. I was once a part of Aunt Betty’s Big Five. The real power behind the corporate giant. The ones who call the shots, lay off the workers by the thousands, cover up outbreaks of tainted meat and roll in the money when it comes in by the truck loads. That was me. But in business only money matters, and I was making too much of it. You see, I found a way to circumvent the other four and run parts of the business on my own. In a giant corporate structure immense amounts of bureaucracy are the only constant. I used this to my advantage, slowly taking over sections of the business with people loyal to me alone. My sister’s husband was in charge of food production, my college roommate ran the legal department, my personal accountant ran the accounting department and so on and so on. It got to the point where nothing would get done with out my ok. The only problem was keeping the other four from finding out. This came easily at first, as I gave no specific instructions and allowed my allies to do what the five decided together. But as I got a taste of the good life and skimmed the top of every profit with some fancy accounting, and bought cheaper meat while pocketing the difference, I became greedy. Taking more and more, not allowing the other four much of anything. They caught on, and the rules started to come down from the top, without my knowledge. My departments were gutted and I was thrown out. It’s just that simple. I got greedy and now I need some revenge. I need what Jim needs: to watch Aunt Betty’s die a slow and painful death.

So I’ve been gathering the dejected, those whose lives have been ruined, or whose livelihood has been taken from them. I train them in all the ways of the Aunt Betty’s and send them of to prosper in the corporate environment and rise swiftly through the ranks to prominent positions. You may ask why Aunt Betty’s would even consider taking back the same souls that they ruined. Shouldn’t they be suspicious? In reality they take pride in rehiring the same competitors that they decimated. It’s all part of a self-satisfaction that comes out of absorbing those that fell in your wake.

But anyway, I was telling you about Jim. He had just joined in and finished his training, and I found him a position in his old restaurant. I did this on purpose because it keeps them riled up and aware of why they got into this in the first place. Jim worked as a cashier for $6.75 an hour and hated every minute of it. From the machine that made change so he only had to deal with the bills to the conveyor belt in the back that constructed the burgers from a brownish- yellowish paste. He hated it, but the worst part about it was the management. Jim’s manager was a guy twenty years his junior named Nestor. Nestor wore this plastic smile all the time, even when he was reprimanding you. Jim had just finished making change, when Nestor showed up.

“Jim, how are you doing today?”

“Can’t complain.”

“Good. That’s good . . . Jim, what is our motto here at Aunt Betty’s Family Restaurant?”

“Friendly, reliable service with a smile.”

Nestor’s smile widened.

“Good. Now keep that in mind while you are serving people, because as you well know, servers who don’t smile get docked half a vacations day on offense. So I’ll make a note of this. We will consider this a formal verbal reprimand and write it down in your record.” Nestor’s smile widened again. “On the scale of warnings this is a perfect worker,” he pointed about hip level with this palm, “and this is what we just had.” He lowered his palm an inch. “So are we cool, Jim? Do you understand what happened?” With these last words Nestor slowed his speech down as if to allow Jim time to digest the information.

“Oh, absolutely, Nestor. Thanks for letting me know.”

After this interaction, Nestor scanned the room and noticed the sea of uniformed workers all with plastered smiles like Nestor’s. He walked over to one of his co-workers.

“Hey, what’s the deal with Nestor?” he asked.

The co-worker adjusted his smile and cocked it a bit to allow him to talk about serious matters while still maintaining his required degree of happiness.

“I think its best not to ask those sorts of question. You know they’re watching us.”

Just as Jim’s co-worker finished, Nestor popped up.

“Hey, guys, whatcha talking about?”

“Oh, I was just reminding Jim of rule 2419.”

“Always keep your hair combed, your face clean shaven, and your shirt tucked in. Good, very good.”

Well, Jim got accustomed, or should I say indoctrinated, to the ways of Aunt Betty’s and moved his way up the ladder. Of course I taught him everything he knew, so this helped his steady climb. I mean how else does a kid go from cashier to head waiter to store manager to regional manager to regional director and finally to regional vice-president without knowing the ins and out. Like this little pearl of wisdom, kiss as much but as you can. Check your pride at the door next to your self-respect and sense of human decency and the corporate world will be a snap. Plus of course I made the kid fudge his numbers. In a place the size of Aunt Betty’s the don’t know the difference between a billion and a trillion so just pad your stats and kiss ass, sure fire way to the top. And being at the top is what gave Jim the power to make purchasing decision, to make personnel decision, and to open more stores. Not to mention the sweet corner office he had, the private bathroom and the six figure salary. Jim was sitting pretty and loving it. Before, he couldn’t pick up a drunk girl at a fat farm, but now? Well, doesn’t every girl want to around the arm of $5,000 suit? At least the real dumb and real pretty ones do and that’s all Jim was in the market for.

I should have seen it coming. But, I think I just get blinded to other people’s happiness. I mean sure Jim had more now, then at any other point in his life, but what about me? I made him. I scrapped him off the floor. I gave him that purpose that Aunt Betty’s took from him. Bah.

That’s when I got the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Jim.”

“I’m glad you called, I just caught wind of an Aunt Betty’s that’s planning to open in Muskegon. This is the last straw for us. We’re coordinating an all out sabotage. It will start with the simultaneous discovery of twelve botched books from twelve divisions that will point the feds to an off shore account with $65 billion dollars of profits hidden from Uncle Sam. This is it, Jim. This is the big con. Corporate fat cats will fall and we will dance on their broken cat bodies. This is the moment. This makes it all worth it. Remember all that ass kissing? Remember that douche bag Nestor?”

There was silence on the other side of the phone.

“Jim?”

“I can’t do it.”

“What are you talking about?

“I just can’t do it.”

“But, they took your store, Jim, the place your blood, sweat, and tears built and made great. They muscled you out of it, and now you’re backing down when you have the opportunity to muscle them out of business. This is what you wanted when you came to me! This is it.”

“I wanted revenge. And I’m getting it now. I’m succeeding in the same business that they told me I wasn’t good enough to be in. That’s my revenge.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I have too much to lose here. I have mortgage payments to make and kids that need to go to ivy-league schools and a fifty foot yacht to sail around the world. Do you know how expensive it is to rent and feed a crew to sail you around the world? It’s just not happening.”

“What kids? What yacht? Jim you’re hallucinating, they got you dreaming of better lives for kids you don’t even have. And aspiring to sail yachts around the world. What the hell is that?”

“It’s what us corporate successes call boats and I need one.”

I fell silent, not able to respond.

“Also, tomorrow morning I’m telling Inter-Corporate Intelligence everything about your plot to overthrown Aunt Betty’s. Thanks for everything, and I advise you to pull the plug on your plot and go into hiding.”

That was it. They found my cells in every major division, pulling the strings of Aunt Betty’s most profitable departments. No sooner did I hang up the phone than thick taste of chloroform filled my lungs. When I came to, I was in the corporate headquarters of Aunt Betty’s on the 500^th floor of the Betty Building, surrounded by smiling faces. See they were so impressed with my work that they offered me a job as head of inter-corporate intelligence. They’re giving me seven figures to do what I was doing before for free. And I got a nice corner office.