"Tales of a Scorched Coffee Pot" - Chapter 144

But if neither he nor presumably anybody else is getting much response on those various bullet points, perhaps something a little less serious might do the trick. This is the hope, anyway, when Edgar presents a much lighter observation, during their latest Monday morning conference call. It's the first undertaken from his nifty, brand new office in Palmyra, which is his and Sharon's first day in here, period. As the mind freezing number recital/mostly tuned out bitch session is about to wrap up, Todd asks if anyone has anything else, and Edgar does indeed have a final topic, which every person here should be able to grasp. It should therefore gain a little more traction, he would think, and possibly even lighten the mood some.

???????????“Yeah, I wanted to mention that my wife and I went to see this movie over the weekend, up here in Palmyra...”

???????????“Yeah?”

???????????“Yeah and so we're waiting for the movie to start, and they show these little local commercials while you're sitting there,” he chuckles to recall, before continuing, “anyway, so we're sitting there, and this old Wholesome Shopper Market commercial comes on...”

???????????“Really? That's cool.”

???????????“Yeah, except it had Karen Hatley in it,” Edgar concludes.

???????????As Sharon busts out laughing beside him, and he can hear the likes of Vicky, Dale, even Felix making some form of cackling noises as well, Todd questions, “Karen Hatley? Who's that?”

???????????“She was the former president's wife...and a store manager, too, actually...”

???????????“Yeah,” Sharon adds, “she hasn't been here in about...a year and a half. Well, obviously.”

???????????Though Todd vows to look into this and even Fred chimes in with something similar, Edgar's thinking this is really about par for the course. So not only is Todd apparently paying for things like the HSX labels without even looking at the invoice, only to go on a warpath and claim that Edgar's the incompetent/shady one, barging forward with some secret nefarious label ordering plans, but there are clearly who knows how many other similar situations in motion all over the place. Those movie theater ads are not cheap, but Todd's obviously been unknowingly paying for them since he came aboard a mere seventeen months ago, despite their featuring his predecessor's wife in a starring role.

???????????Even with this major move almost nearly completed, Edgar is still spending more than half his days in Lorena. During one memorable, snicker laden afternoon, upon discovering that both meat guys are off and that the deli is just kind of sort of watching the customer counter down there, he is back changing some prices on the new and old scales and is struck by an amusing lightning bolt of insight. If upper management refuses to do anything about these guys, he'll just move forward with what he knows is best.

???????????After inspecting a handful of the pitchfork-style price signs in the meat case, with their pair of metal prongs stuck into one specimen of each item in question, he discovers that, as expected, though these PLU numbers have been written on here with magic marker, a bottle of rubbing alcohol found up front by the customer service desk does wonders. Up next, having brought his laptop bag along for the ride, he is also able to produce a Sharpie of his own, and pull up the list of correct Wholesome Shopper Market PLU numbers for all of these, and write such upon the backside of the case tags.

???????????Though cackling to himself every time he thinks about this, he never will quite learn the longterm outcome of this stunt. If he had to guess, he would say as hostile as this meat duo is, they probably scrubbed off the new numbers and reapplied their old ones. But whatever. His path is the correct one, and this should hopefully send the right message. Sooner or later, he's going to start knocking out and switching over those old PLU numbers from their wrapping scale, too, so they may as well get used to it.

???????????As far as deli, now that Louise has apparently gotten accustomed to this switched over batch of numbers herself, far and away the biggest problem there is hers and everyone else's tendency to order something new, and slap it out on the sales floor without it ringing, the attitude basically being that it's somebody else's problem to find it. Though far less common, this situation also rears its head whenever they crank out a brand new deli recipe, as some unnamed presence either types this item into one of the old deli scales, using whatever random open number they happen to stumble upon, in trial and error fashion – though Edgar and Vicky both have mentioned countless times that this item will probably not ring, if it does it will ring up as something else – or otherwise just slap a MISCELLANEOUS DELI sticker upon it (reluctantly added at some point, because it was already in use here) and sling these onto the sales floor, though in this instance it's a potential visit by the ingredients Nazi that should inspire them not to do so, if they hope to avoid repeat visits, fines, or even a complete quarantine a la Palmyra's from years ago.

???????????Though Trevor continues to regard Edgar as some sort of joke – and the tare fluctuations in the MRI file aren't helping matters any – at least he reliably submits his new items over to Buddy. Even if the most recent overheard exchange in Palmyra is highly telling.

???????????These new offices are pleasant and modern enough, with faux, snap-in hardwood flooring (like the rest of the store) that is certainly a far cry better than that old checkerboard linoleum. The walls are painted a tasteful, key lime green, and the desks – both of the brand-new office rooms have two apiece – are wooden shelves, really, that are connected to the walls. In Edgar and Sharon's case, they are far enough apart, and are also not facing one another, to provide adequate separation, and make for a pleasantly secluded work environment.

???????????Or, rather, this would be the case if not for one baffling feature. Though no one can say why, Todd and his minions decided not to enclose these rooms completely, meaning the walls don't reach the ceiling. And, owing to whatever mysterious acoustic alchemy, this doesn't just fail to block out the orchestra of sound emanating from the front of the store. No, it actually seems to amplify it, somehow, as though bouncing off the ceiling and back down into these open bowls with such delicate precision that these offices are in fact insanely loud.

???????????Therefore, Edgar can hear every word of Buddy's most recent phone call, despite this figure standing somewhere on the other side of the wall. Well, he can hear Buddy's side of the conversation, which is plenty enough to piece together the gist of it en toto. From the outset, Edgar had kind of suspected they were talking about him, and every piece added since has only narrowed down and confirmed this notion.

???????????“I sent those to him yesterday!” he now hears Buddy say, with a rueful, disbelieving snicker, “I totally did. I sent him the file to add those yesterday...yeah, well, what else is new...are we surprised?...Heh heh. Yeah, really...Well alright, I'm gonna ask him what the deal is right now...Okay, yeah, I'll let ya know...”

???????????Maybe two minutes later, Buddy materializes beside Edgar's desk, clutching four different varieties of fresh flower bouquets. Despite telling this dude umpteen times to just send him the file, on roughly half the occasions, which is closer to 100% of the ones where they are in the same building, he shows up toting the product, as though hoping for a different response. Even so, in situations like this one, where an item has been sent to him and yet does not ring, it does make sense to come bearing the product in question – or at least, it would if he had actually sent all of them. Edgar remembers this file well, and for starters, recalls that it only had three flower varieties in it, not four.

???????????“Hey, they're telling me that some of these aren't ringing up. What's the deal? I sent these to you yesterday!”

???????????“Hmm...okay, well let's see...,” Edgar says, and goes into his Outlook program, hunts down Buddy's email before opening the attachment. “Okay, it looks like you have four different flower bouquets here, but you only sent me three.”

???????????“I did?” an incredulous Buddy declares, leaning in to squint at the file.

???????????“Yeah...,” Edgar observes, and then, when asking to see the UPCs on the other three, begins comparing these against the file Buddy sent. “And...okay...,” he continues, “I can see you've got one number wrong on this one, so it's not gonna scan. See? It should be a 5, but you typed a 6. So yeah, if I had to say, two of these are scanning, and two of them are not, right?”

???????????“Uh...yeah...I think so...,” Buddy nods, then adds, “so should I leave these here or...”

???????????“Nope. Send me a file.”

???????????As a dejected Buddy hangs his head and waddles away, Edgar reflects on the dynamic around here. He is very much aware of how the vast majority of those still working for this company would view that last exchange. That even though he'd just overheard those two throwing him under the box truck, talking all sorts of smack for no reason whatsoever, somehow Edgar is nonetheless the big meanie here for actually making someone type up a couple of things on a computer and send them to him. But how would this have played out if, say, someone like Sondra had just overheard the exact same conversation, about her? Would she not have lit up Jose's phone immediately, their consummate HR wizard down there at Bellwether, and raised all manner of hell about this? Yes, totally. And whoever that was on the phone, Buddy and Trevor or whomever, would have been plunged into a whole horse trough full of hot water.

???????????And that's really the point. You have no control over what others are saying about you, therefore cannot even worry about it. Except the complainers around here have clearly won the day. Those who are naive or professional or whatever enough to ignore all this and have the nerve to simply knuckle down, focus only on what they should be doing, these are the ones getting hosed. Which exchange is more likely, after all? Does anyone really believe that, after Buddy learns of his mistake, he soberly admits to Trevor, “you know what, I guess we really were being a couple of smarmy jackasses, and that was totally my fault. Edgar actually does a pretty good job.” Or instead, how about this, which Edgar feels like is so on point he can just about predict every syllable and vocal inflection: when Trevor next asks what the deal was with those flower bouquets, Buddy stating, with the world weariness that only a true grizzled veteran can muster, “oh, who the hell knows. But...I guess they're ringing up now, so...yeah, whatever...”

???????????Again, you can't control and certainly not eliminate this stuff. The problem is, this has now become the official narrative, the escape hatch everyone is using now: um...it must be Edgar's fault that this sucks...right? I mean, after all, this is what management's always saying. And this phenomenon seems to be only getting worse.

???????????For over a month now, Ken has been attempting to establish some sort of ordering system that will work with RU Data; this was after all the whole reason he was brought aboard, as having some sort of theoretical pipeline of great relationships with RU Data, which was supposed to expedite things. Edgar's been on board with that concept from day one – and who wouldn't be? - for the obvious reason that they need ordering to work, but also that it would be great to knock off this whole business of doubling his work by entering everything in Slingshot still. Also that he feels like this significantly bolsters his case that RU Data are the ones dragging their feet here, that they are the problem. Because Ken really hasn't made any progress either.

???????????It's apparently not enough that Edgar has been mentioning this order quandary since last March. And that Sharon jumped into the conversation in September. And that Todd, though apparently telling Matt Abernathy the complete opposite up until then, also questioning what the deal is, on at least one occasion, during that amusing little foray to Long Island. Or that Ken joined the fray in January. All this apparent evidence is obliterated to a great extent by the fact that Ken is spinning the narrative behind his back – which surely originates from RU Data, it's true – that this entire yearlong delay is somehow Edgar's fault.

???????????Now that she's been relieved of her receiver duties, Sharon was primarily supposed to become the tag hanging person at Palmyra, a la what Ashley and Amanda were tackling in tandem up in Lorena. Except then Valerie was appointed as her “assistant,” meaning the latter has effectively taken on this task in its entirety. So whatever Sharon instead spends most of her days doing now, it involves her being at her desk the vast majority of the time. Edgar's aware that Ken has enlisted her help for getting this ordering debacle tottering on its feet somehow, so that's something. They have managed to get exactly one other EDI vendor added thus far, Green Gardens, which would be the first since Harmony Hill was connected but then booted out of the stores a week later. This delay has nothing to do with them, of course, is 100% RU Data shaping up as the equivalent of a produce barge floating outside of customs for so long that it has begun to rot.

???????????Even so, though he's well aware of where the problem lies, those two, Ken and Sharon, obviously have no qualms tossing him out with that rotting produce. Ken has only been around for two months and doesn't even have the full story, but Sharon sure does. Nonetheless, he knows that this is the tale she has begun to spin to management as well, that this holdup is Edgar's doing. He somewhat empathizes ever so slightly with Ken's plight, stocking product at some low budget chain store for barely over minimum wage, and with that whole mail order bride situation. Times are hard, and he's probably desperate. To Edgar this is way more sympathetic a situation, as opposed to Sharon, who has all the facts, chooses to go along with Ken's narrative anyway, despite having an apparently fully secure job, as she's only really scrambling for more power. Yet even though fully cognizant of this, Edgar’s attitude is that if they can get ordering up and running by any means necessary, then whatever, who cares what they are saying about him.

???????????It's leading to some bizarre and often prickly exchanges, however, as Ken is commonly calling Sharon, avoiding Edgar entirely...even though they are in the same room now. Sometimes she calls out a question to Edgar, then relays this to Ken on the other end of her phone. On other occasions, there's a bit more of a delay, as she's asking him something and calling Ken back. Either way, it amounts to pretty much the same surreal experience.

???????????“Hey, Ken was asking me...do you have account numbers for all the vendors?”

???????????“Mmm...not so much, actually,” he replies with a chuckle.

???????????“Really?” she says, as though surprised by this.

???????????“Yeah, and actually, I sent him all the account numbers I did have, the last time this came up, two or three weeks ago. But I haven't heard anything more about it. Because see, we didn't actually need those in Slingshot, unless it was an EDI vendor. And I've sent those numbers to RU Data I don't know how many times. So they should already have them. Plus, like I said, to Ken that last time we talked about it.”

???????????“Can you send me those numbers? He's saying he never got them. 'Cause see, we've kind of moved on from the whole EDI thing or whatever, now we're trying to set up everyone as an email vendor.”

???????????“Yep, this will take just a second,” he says, and begins clicking away to retrieve them, “it'll be two lists, actually. I've got one list of the EDI vendors from Slingshot, and then also...Dale actually keeps this updated list on Dropbox of all the vitamins ones, that he shares with me and his managers...but, this is all I personally have.”

???????????After firing these off to Sharon what must be not even a minute later, she acknowledges receiving them, and forwards the pair of lists to Ken. This all transpires late on their second ever afternoon together in the brand-new office.

???????????The third ever afternoon together in their brand-new office, aligned in their standard configuration, 90 degrees removed from one another as each faces his or her own desk, Sharon fields another call late in the afternoon, discusses something in a murmur – Edgar isn't paying attention, and couldn't testify to what – before hanging up and addressing him.

???????????“Hey. What about account numbers for...all the other vendors. Do. You. Have. Those?”

???????????He turns in her direction, shrugging and calmly stating, “no, huh uh. I sent you all the ones I had yesterday, remember.”

???????????“Okay but Ken's saying that RU Data needs account numbers for all of the vendors at all of the stores, if they're gonna set up this email ordering. So what is the best way to get those?”

???????????“Hmm,” he replies, pondering this for a few seconds, “I mean, really, we have all the paper invoices for the past six months on file, they're even alphabetized. That might be the easiest thing, to just go through there and grab the ones we need.”

???????????“WHAT!?” Sharon all but shrieks, for she too is now facing him. The dial of her facial complexion turning halfway toward crimson, shaking her head from side to side, “No! Huh uh! No no no no no!”

???????????This strikes him in that instant as an incredibly weird response from her, for a couple of different reasons. The first would be the extremity of it, the vicious severity, without apparent justification regarding his total rational suggestion. The other is that...he truly cannot think of a better method. To that you might also add that if she doesn't believe he has the best suggestion, then why is she asking him in the first place?

???????????“Well, the only other thing I can think of is, we could send out an email blast to all of the vendors in question, and ask them for our account numbers,” he says with another one shoulder shrug, “of course, to me, it seems like it might take as long to figure out the email addresses we need as it would to just go back and grab the account numbers off the invoices.”

???????????“I'm calling Ken,” is all Sharon says, and spins around in her chair.

???????????“Okay, cool. Something else you might want to mention – I mean, I also did, the last time I talked to him, but you might want to as well – is that this doesn't even make sense, for RU Data to swear that they have to have account numbers to set up email ordering. A huge percentage of our vendors are small time local ones. They don't even use account numbers. It seems like if RU Data has to have them, then they could just make up whatever and use that. There's no way this could possibly matter.”

???????????To this, Sharon, as expected, offers her patented palms up, shaking arms back and forth in time with her head also slightly twitching back and forth, as the mouth within downturns into a pity-but-please-don't-kill-the-poor-hapless-translator grimace. As she also says, “well, I wouldn't know anything about that. I'm just relaying the message, here.”

???????????He's guessing this must be the trending catchphrase of late, a variation of well, I wouldn't know anything about that...only presented, of course, after someone has already accosted you with their theories, and you responded with what you did in fact know. Which they nonetheless treat as some sort of cagey, deflective nonsense on your part. In Sharon's case, though, it's especially pernicious, not just in light of their history which should make them allies, but because she only takes this stance at moments like this, when she is caught precisely in the middle. When at either of the opposing ends, attempting to play both sides, she is a lot more certain and assertive, taking definitive stances if it means enhancing her power plays.

???????????Not only that, but she does know more than a little about this: she checked in these invoices for years. She of all people would know that most of these small time local vendors don't use account numbers. He totally grasps that Ken and she are attempting to spin this, with a healthy dose of encouragement from RU Data, that Edgar's withholding these damn account numbers from them, and that's great and all. But why would he send two different lists within sixty seconds yesterday, which would include most of their biggest vendors and then a bunch of other vitamin ones, but then get all shady and weird and withhold these other, often not that significant ones?

???????????“Well, I mean, trust me,” Edgar shrugs again and chuckles, “this is just sounding like another stall tactic from RU Data. And if we really wanted to dig down into this, we could also even ask them: what about the account numbers for this Waxoff...distribution center...dealio, wouldn't you need those, too? Since we're supposed to be sending all deliveries down there soon? Should we get new numbers? Or can we just pick one store and use their numbers for everything down there? I haven't heard anything about that. Dale must not have, either, since they weren't on his vitamins list...”

???????????“Yeah, well, like I said,” Sharon shakes one hand back and forth only now, frowning, as she uses the other to reach for her phone and call Ken, “I wouldn't know anything about that.”

???????????It isn't just the volume pouring into these amplifying offices, though, or the increasingly heated chaos, but for some reason this entire store just seems louder of late, ever since this remodel...even though the traffic suffered a nosedive during that project, and hasn't really recovered. As most non-management employees could have predicted, customer response to the remodel, while mostly positive on an aesthetic level, is overwhelmingly negative concerning this new product mix. If they weren't already pissed off at paying more for conventional products that they could get anywhere, while simultaneously having to scan ingredient labels now from a store they used to trust to have a banned ingredients list it adhered to, they are also confused about this rebranding to a “Stable 2 Table” concept, which even features a barn as the backdrop to your logo, at the same exact moment you decided to flood the stalls with a tsunami of conventional crap. So it must be this, despite the lower food traffic: the clamor of the less than enthused.

???????????Of course, it could also be the fact that they've just shoehorned four additional full-time employees into this place at once, only half of which have a dedicated place to land. Somewhat on this note, with about an hour to spare in the day, Edgar hurries back to the breakroom to heat up the remainder of his coffee. Here he encounters a bemused and halfway incredulous looking Vicky, shaking her head and laughing under her breath,??squashed behind a laptop at one of the tiny two seat tables. Without even saying anything, they share this split second of eye contact, and he feels like he has instantly picked up on her vibe.

???????????Sure enough, in the wake of his simple conversational, “what's up?” she launches into a diatribe about how crazy this situation is, and that she's thinking about asking for permission to work from home.

???????????“What do you think about this?” she wonders, “do you have a hard time concentrating around here?”

???????????“It's funny you should mention this,” he admits, laughing, and touching upon a couple of her points, “it is really loud in here and there are a ton of distractions. I was just telling my wife, like, two days ago, that I would get way more accomplished from home...”

???????????“Really? Cool,” she says, pondering this for a second before nodding in concurrence, “it's good to hear I'm not the only one.”