Insanity, #1

by Andre Gonzalez

  “Oh, just some research for my other job,” Herman said, narrowing his eyes as he assessed Jeremy. “How would you like to make some extra money on the side?” His eyes reminded Jeremy of a snake.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever heard of the term opportunity cost?” Herman asked.

  Jeremy looked around the call center to confirm no one was within earshot, then shook his head.

  “I learned about it in my economics class,” Herman said. “It’s the idea that items are worth exactly what someone is willing to pay for them.

  “For example, say you have a ticket for the Super Bowl that has a face value of a hundred dollars. Now say I come and offer you a thousand dollars for that same ticket and you reject my offer. Even though you only paid one hundred, the ticket actually cost you a thousand because I was willing to give you that amount. You had the opportunity to make a grand. Make sense?”

  “Yeah. Sort of,” Jeremy replied, lowering his brow.

  “It makes more sense when you see it in action. I apply this theory to event tickets and resale them to the black market, where opportunity costs run wild.”

  “So you’re a scalper?”

  “Of course not. You won’t see me in the street trying to hustle people. This is pure business, a microeconomics principle.”

  “So you’re doing this with Bears tickets?” Jeremy asked, becoming more intrigued.

  “I do it for all big events in town. Concerts, sports, whatever is going on. It all depends on the buzz of the event. For the Bears, it’s really just Opening Day, fireworks games, and when they play someone like the Yankees or Red Sox.”

  Jeremy nodded. Herman had never said more than five words to him, and now he couldn’t stop talking.

  “Anyway,” Herman said. “I don’t wanna talk about this too much here. But think it over and let me know, cowboy.” He gave Jeremy an awkward wink and returned his attention to the game.

  “Good talking to you, Herman. I’ll see you around.” Jeremy left the call center, trying to wrap his head around the exchange. No way Herman can be trusted. He doesn’t even know me and tried to recruit me into his scheme.

  Jeremy had had enough for the day and left the stadium. He drove home in silence, thinking over what Herman had said. Nine dollars an hour was hard to live off of, but his dream of becoming the team’s psychologist weighed too important. He knew he’d need to keep working hard and stay clean in order to get where he wanted to go.

  *****

  Jeremy never saw Herman again. Rumor had it that he came into some money and no longer needed to waste eight hours a month for free tickets. Jeremy knew the truth, and couldn’t help daydreaming about making such easy money.

  His screen turned black; he’d just been sitting staring at it and hadn’t touched it in twenty minutes. What does it matter? I’m going back to the dungeon next week. He felt sick to his stomach. Why should I be punished for not wanting to meet some Christian band I’ve never heard of? I don’t listen to this shit.

  The salesmen gathered across the hallway at Dillon’s desk. Dillon Shaw had brought in more than one million dollars for the team over the course of the season. Jeremy had generated the sales reports at the end of each week, so he always knew who was performing well.

  Dillon faced Jeremy’s desk, but was blocked by a couple guys hovering in front of Dillon’s computer. They whispered, and he could only assume they were gossiping about him.

  Disappointment wrapped its claws around Jeremy’s gut, and the mix of rage and sorrow made him feel lightheaded and nauseous. I fucking made it out of the call center. Now I’ll be lucky to ever see the light of day again.

  His desk was right outside the call center, so he always saw his friends pass by. Lewis came around the corner at his usual slow pace.

  “Hey, Jeremy, how’s it going?” Lewis asked.

  “Okay. I’m gonna call you after work.”

  “Sounds good,” Lewis replied nonchalantly, and continued to the call center.

  Jeremy spent the afternoon looking at job postings online. He supposed he could be overreacting, but his instinct told him otherwise. Matt seemed to be hiding something.

  Jeremy remembered what Herman had taught him about opportunity cost, and decided the time had come to take a deeper look.

  7

  Chapter 7

  January 2012

  “So you can’t do anything at all for me?” Jeremy asked, fighting the urge to yell. Sammy avoided eye contact as he shriveled behind his desk.

  “Look, Jeremy. I wish I could, but I have no say in the matter.”

  “You’re the manager. How can you have no say?” Jeremy shot an aggressive look across the desk.

  “It doesn’t work like that, and you know it. Money decisions always come from the top. This is professional sports.” Sammy pursed his lips and sat back in his chair.

  Jeremy had just had his annual review, as was the case every January. Four years had passed and he still hadn’t received a raise from nine dollars an hour. No one had: there was supposedly a spending freeze.

  “Okay then. Thanks for the talk,” Jeremy said as he stood and walked out of Sammy’s office.

  He sat down at his desk, left his work phone on “Not Ready” status to ignore incoming calls, and played games on his cell phone until lunchtime came forty-five minutes later.

  Since his return to the call center in October, everything had seemed to snowball out of control. He went back with an open mind and was still hoping to return to outbound sales until December came and he was informed that he would not return to the position. Worse, one of the girls that had recently been hired in the call center was chosen to fill the role. Kylie had no prior ticketing experience, nowhere near the knowledge of the Bears that Jeremy had, but she was pretty, tall, and blond. Bold move for a tight-ass Christian like Matt.

  Sammy launched a team lead program as a growth opportunity within the call center. The team lead would be Sammy’s right-hand person and would serve as a primary resource for the rest of the staff. Jeremy didn’t want to assume anything, but with four seasons of experience he figured he’d be a lock for the role.

  He wasn’t. Sammy chose Adam Reichs instead. Adam was a good guy: fresh out of college and with a passion for baseball. But Adam had only spent one season with the team, and still regularly had to ask Jeremy questions about how to do his job.

  Jeremy decided his future with the Bears was over. His job hunt expanded as he looked at a wide range of companies.

  He came across a start-up company called E-Nonymous, Inc. They operated a call center that received calls from people in need of support with issues like tobacco and gambling addictions. The company’s mission was based on helping others, and they exhibited a caring attitude toward their employees: four weeks of paid time off, full health coverage, and nearly triple the pay. Jeremy wasted no time filling out his application, feeling excited for the first time in ages.

  I’m getting out of this fucking place and never looking back.

  After slogging through the work day, Jeremy returned to his old habit of drinking once he arrived home. His life felt stuck at a standstill. He had moved into his own apartment downtown after parting ways with Ronnie in September—and months later Ronnie still hadn’t reached out to him. It was inevitable, but it still bothered him.

  With money tight, he focused more free time on sports betting and poker, playing at a friend’s house every Sunday night. Most weeks he could guarantee an extra fifty dollars in his pocket, sometimes up to two hundred. He rarely left a loser.

  The only issue with the games was the late start time of 9 p.m., sometimes even 10, depending when everyone showed up. This led to late nights, followed by a Monday of dragging his ass to work. His performance suffered as the groggy Monday set him back for the whole week.

  It’s not like I’m working toward anything anymore.

  February brought a lucrative two weeks, as he made more than two thousand dollars th
anks to a hot streak of basketball betting. The winnings covered nearly three months of rent, which he stashed aside for that purpose only. All paychecks for the following three months would go to fun: nights out, drinking, and, of course, gambling. He thought he might reinvest some of his winnings.

  The Bears’ on-sale date for tickets always fell on the second Saturday of February, and he planned on purchasing some Opening Day tickets to test out the opportunity cost theory. Opening Day was a guaranteed sell-out every year, so there would be no better chance to give it a shot.

  He needed to keep his side project secret. Not even Jamie could know. She didn’t mind the gambling, especially with all the winnings, but she would likely object to a job-jeopardizing decision like this.

  Too bad my time here is practically up.

  8

  Chapter 8

  February 2012

  When the second Saturday of February arrived, Jeremy jumped out of bed with more excitement than usual. He still loved the game of baseball, and the on-sale day marked six weeks until the start of the season.

  Jeremy felt the energy as soon as he walked into the call center. On-sale day was the only day of the year that all employees worked together, as everyone was required to answer the phones. He saw faces he hadn’t seen since July as thirty people crammed into the office, gorging themselves with the doughnuts Sammy had brought in.

  Sammy stood on the elevated step of his office, calling for everyone’s attention.

  “Thank you all for being here this morning,” he spoke in a barely raised voice. “Excuse me!”

  The murmurs of chatter gave way to silence and all eyes turned to Sammy.

  “Welcome to on-sale day,” he continued, no longer needing to shout. “Whether you’ve been through this before or not, just know it is the most chaotic day of the year. You’ll also find it will fly by.

  “When the phones come on at ten, expect to see the call queue at over seventy for the first two hours. The majority of these calls will be asking for Opening Day tickets. We have a limited amount available today that will be gone within the first half hour. Do your best to try and upsell these customers to different dates once those are sold out.

  “Adam and I will be floating around if you need assistance. I’ve posted today’s seating chart on the board, so be sure to check your spot for the day. We have twenty minutes until the phones come on, so grab some breakfast and get settled in. Any questions?”

  Eyes bounced around the silent room.

  “Thanks, Sammy,” Lewis said lazily.

  “Alright, let’s get at it,” Sammy finished with a clap of his hands.

  Conversations resumed as everyone worked their way to the bulletin board. Jeremy wrapped up his small talk with Lewis and checked the seating chart.

  Of course I’m upstairs, he thought. Can’t even sit at my own fucking desk for this God-awful day.

  Jeremy stormed out of the call center, ignoring others as he passed.

  They used an upstairs office on the suite level on the rare occasions when staff wouldn’t fit in the main office. The upstairs office was more depressing than the main one. It was as cold as the city morgue, dust covered the computers, and mice droppings littered the carpet. Jeremy imagined it must be like the working conditions in prison.

  He headed for the elevator with his backpack slung over one shoulder. I’m done. I can’t do this shit anymore. He thought about getting drunk after work before starting on some homework he had to complete, and the thought soothed his mood.

  The elevator took him to the suite level, revealing a dim hallway.

  “Jesus,” he said, stepping out and feeling the instant draft of coldness. He dragged his feet to the door and swiped his badge to enter.

  He was the first to arrive, though someone had come up earlier to turn on all the computers. They hummed in unison with the chorus of buzzing fluorescent lights.

  He plopped into his assigned seat and opened up the ticketing software. A seating chart had been placed on each desk to show the pricing structure for all games.

  Four dollars? he thought, looking at the cheapest available tickets for Opening Day. Surely someone would pay at least thirty for those.

  Jeremy clicked four tickets and kept them on hold, switching screens as he heard footsteps approach the door. Five of his coworkers strolled in, Adam among them.

  “Hey, Jeremy. How’s it going, man?” Adam asked as the other four headed to their desks, coffee and doughnuts in hand.

  “Good, man. Just getting ready for the morning,” Jeremy said.

  “Right on. Did you get enough to eat?”

  “I did, thanks. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick before the phones come on.” Jeremy grinned and walked out, needing a second to get his mind together.

  He walked to the furthest end of the suite level, pulled out his cell phone, debated calling Jamie, and decided not to since she’d had a late Friday night at work and was likely still asleep.

  Thirty back on four. That’s almost a thousand percent return.

  He walked back to the office with more vigor in his step. Everyone waited by their phones, ready for the calls to start any minute.

  I’m gonna try just those four tickets to see how it works. Jeremy pulled out his credit card and wrote the number down on a sticky note to use once the flood gates opened.

  Twenty phones rang in unison, and the volume in the room exploded as everyone answered their phones with “Denver Bears, how can I help you?”

  Jeremy glanced over his shoulder and saw Adam on the other side of the aisle. He answered his phone but didn’t speak, keeping the mute button pressed down on his headset. His fingers typed quickly as he rushed to purchase the four tickets he’d held.

  “Hello?” a voice called in his headset. Jeremy’s heart raced.

  Sorry, guy, but I need a raise.

  “HELLO!” the voice screamed. “Say something, you shitheads!” Jeremy imagined a middle-aged man wrapped in his robe, sitting at his kitchen table and eating a bowl of cereal while he called for his Bears tickets.

  Done. He completed the transaction, processing the order under Jamie’s name to have the tickets sent to her address.

  “Motherfuck!” the man shouted, and Jeremy disconnected the call.

  No coming back from that one.

  He kept the phone off the hook, and a chime beeped in his ear to inform him the next caller had connected. He took the call and processed an Opening Day order for an elderly woman wanting to take her son to the big day. The queue flashed on the phone panel, showing eighty calls waiting.

  Gonna be a long fucking morning.

  He kept his headset on, his head down, and focused on one call at a time. The bottle of rum stayed in the back of his mind, waiting for him at home.

  *****

  “Great work today,” Sammy said from behind his desk. “You had 140 calls today, way more than anyone else.”

  “Thank you,” Jeremy replied. His voice echoed in quiet waves around the room. Jeremy felt his stomach quivering, nervous as to why Sammy had called him into his office at the end of the day.

  Did he catch my order to Jamie? But she’s my girlfriend. I haven’t technically done anything wrong.

  “I wanted to fill you in on something,” Sammy continued.

  He can’t know. Hundreds of orders were processed today. It’s impossible.

  “The call center has been asked to help usher at our new tequila bar during day games. There will be upselling and processing payments, and you get to spend some time in the sun. I’ve decided to send you for Opening Day.”

  “Oh?” Jeremy questioned, blindsided. The angst immediately drained from his gut. “Well, thank you. I look forward to it.”

  “Of course,” Sammy said. “Look, I know you’re in a funk. I want to help.”

  Then why the fuck did you hire Adam for my role?

  “The way things ended for you on Matt’s team, I don’t agree with. That wasn’t fair, but I think
you can still move forward here.”

  Bullshit.

  “I appreciate that, Sammy. I look forward to the season ahead.”

  “As do I. Now go get packed up. I’m about to send everyone home for the day. Great work today!”

  Jeremy returned to the desk upstairs, unsure about how he should feel after his conversation with Sammy. Cheesy motivational posters hung on the walls like it was a middle-school classroom. The dust and mouse shit made it feel like an abandoned attic.

  This place blows. This is a terrible company to work for, run by the two biggest slobs in baseball.

  He thought back to his second season with the team, when the Bears managed to clinch a postseason berth late in September. As had become standard across baseball, the players celebrated in the clubhouse with bottles of champagne. The staff was invited to join the team in showering themselves in bubbles.

  Except for the call center.

  “Hey, gang. We’re gonna need you to stay on the phones. Customers will be calling to ask about playoff tickets,” Sammy had explained at the time, clearly uncomfortable that he was on his way down to the clubhouse and leaving his team behind.

  All the call center employees felt a drastic shift in emotions: from celebrating the big victory to sitting in silence, after learning that everyone in the building would be celebrating with the team except for them.

  “What the fuck?” Michelle Gardner cried. No one said anything. “Guys, what the fuck?”

  Michelle was a Southern girl with no qualms about speaking her mind. Her eyes bulged behind her glasses. “This is bullshit!”

  The rest of the call center employees, eight of them including Jeremy, sat in silence at their desks while the TV at the front of the room showed Bears players and employees spraying champagne and beer on one another.

  “Guys, I’m sorry this is happening,” Jeff Hart said. Jeff was another retired employee working for the free tickets. He always kept a calm approach no matter the situation. “Let me take us all out for drinks after work.”