“You’ve chosen a rather public place for a private meeting,” I note.
“I’ve always found it best to hide in plain sight.”
-Paul Russell
THE UNREAL LIFE OF SERGEY NABOKOV, a novel
The Beginnings – Part 116:
I NEED SOMEONE
October 27, 1983
Today was a drab day. The reason being happened at around two o’clock.
My Supervisor, Sue Reppert said, “I need to talk to you at three thirty…to discuss something that may require disciplinary action.”
I was biting my nails for a good hour and a half, wondering what she planned to burden me about. Could it be that minor adjustment I gave to George’s phone bill?
She asked, “Do you want a Union steward present?”
I said, “No.”
I didn’t feel like I had anything to hide. I was nervous. I was prepared for anything that might come my way.
I felt I did such an excellent performance. In fact, it was Academy-Award caliber. Last month I made a call to Los Gatos to Call George Jones. I had it billed to Rose Rodarte’s private line. Rose is a coworker and I had taken a call at her desk. I guess someone noticed that the call originated from my telephone number. I acted dumbfounded.
I lied through my teeth by saying, “I just called a customer after work to give a listing.”
Sue was kind of suspicious about my response.
Sue answered, “There were return calls on your bill to that same number.”
I persisted by giving a no knowledge expression. I was good at that.
I said, “It could have been my kid brother. I don’t know.”
Sue said, “If it was…I don’t know how far it could go. He could go to jail.”
I abruptly replied, “Well then, I’ll take full responsibility.”
“You could get suspended.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I’ll abeyance the incident for now and discuss it with you tomorrow after you speak with your brother.”
I now feel I have a good fib laid out. It’s a shame I have to play a double-agent at times. Secrets must be kept secret. I just hope my reputation with the company isn’t totally shot. I very much doubt it. I could tell that Sue believed my Award-winning performance.
It was especially innocent when I asked, “Why would I do something like that?”
“I don’t know.”
I added, “You know…when I was a Computer Operator I used to print out intra-company phone bills and I know they were always being reviewed by management.”
George has still remained invisible.
Jim did call me at around 8:45PM. He’s driving from his house in Martinez to visit me in Alameda. He actually lives in Martinez…not Walnut Creek. It will be nice to see him outside of a gay skating rink. I need someone right now. I feel distraught over my disciplinary talk at work. It was a bit scary.
Drawing two fingers across my brow, I discovered I was sweating.
-Paul Russell
THE UNREAL LIFE OF SERGEY NABOKOV, a novel
