Outsourcing The Dump

When I got into the office this morning Bill was sitting in a chair near the Franklin stove which was generating enough therms to keep the cob house warm. He was reading my fucking Boston Globe. His head was bandaged with gauze. It made him look like a Sikh. He always has some medical problem, and I didn't feel like listening to his aches and pains so I didn't ask. George was in the corner, doing a crossword puzzle from last Sunday's Times. Rajeed, the new guy, was making coffee.

I was groggy, waiting for the coffee to heat-up. Last night I tried to stay awake to watch the Patriots-Broncos game on Monday night football. When I fell asleep around midnight they were tied with about 5 minutes to go in the game. I heard on the van radio that the Pats had won it in the last few minutes by taking an intentional safety on their own one yard line. Then, after the free kick they held the Broncos in their own zone. When they got the ball back they scored, and won. I wanted to read the details in the paper, but Bill was bogarting the thing. It was annoying. I was already in a bad mood, what with the rectal itch flaring up and...

Lardass came in from his duties at the Diaper Recycle. As usual, he exuded an aroma of fresh shit. "Cripes, LA, leave the door open, will ya?" Yelled Bill fanning the air with my Globe. I lit one of the incense candles on my desk, which I used to sweeten up the cob house atmosphere at times like these.

Lardass ignored us and sat on the other side of the Franklin. He was munching on a trail mix bar. The new guy, Rajeed was telling everyone about how he had gone to BJ's and got a deal on a 35 pack of them for Halloween treats. He had decided that American kids didn't get enough nutritious food so he was going to offer them to trick or treaters. After the first few groups of Vampires and Ninjas angrily refused the health bars and in fact had threatened to egg his house and decorate his cars with soap, Rajeed quickly sent his wife down to the convenience store to get some bags of junk candy. Crisis averted.

He brought the leftover trail mix bars in to the office. Lardass loved them. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with a dirty sleeve and looked over at Bill and asked. "What happened?" Lardass actually cared how other people felt, and he never obeyed my don't-ask-don't-tell-Bill rule. Fortunately Bill, whose ears were covered with guaze had not heard the question. Time for my announcement:

"I'm thinking of moving the whole operation to India." I declared.
Everyone except Bill looked up and gave me their full attention. Everyone knew that outsourcing was just the other way of saying 'your jobs are going away.'

"Hey I have a budget. I need to control costs. Everyone is doing it. India, China, Russa. People work cheaper over there. It just makes sense.."

Lardass spoke up. He was looking at me like I was nuts," How the heck are the citizens in this town going to get their trash all the way to India?"

Just then, a big brown UPS van pulled-up outside. Good timing, I thought to myself. The driver came into the office with his hand-held pad. "I have a pick-up notice that you got some stuff going to India today."