Onboarding
7:14 AM
Joey tossed his phone onto the couch and walked to the kitchen, pausing to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror propped in the corner of the living room. He lifted his tank top up slightly and sighed as he remarked at how the six-pack abs he had so diligently maintained had been slowly fading since separating from Viralyte. At this moment, the article covering an interview he did with LA Magazine came to mind. He had attempted to articulate the demands and difficulties of working as an influencer and model, yet all the interviewer and subsequent articles took away was how hard it is to maintain six-pack abs. Boo, hoo. Poor Joey.
As Joey was about to scoop half a cup of almonds into his Nutribullet when he thought he heard his phone vibrating on the couch. Prior to separating from Viralyte, he rarely kept his phone on vibrate and certainly never on Do Not Disturb, but at the advice of his therapist, Mark, he should try to resist the impulse to check his phone by, at least, keeping the ringer off. Apparently, this was supposed to do something to change his brain but Joey was skeptical.
At one point, Joey had three phones. One for home, one for being out-and-about, and one for travel. Since his contract expired, he returned two of them, but the feeling of missing an appendage hadn’t gone away yet. He raced over to the couch, hoping to see a text from Libby.
NEW OUTLOOK MESSAGE
FROM: BARBARA FOSS
SUBJECT: ONBOARDING
BODY:
Hello, Joey.
We hope this email finds you well. Congratulations again for accepting the role of Marketing Coordinator with Topanga Credit Union. We will be conducting your virtual onboarding starting this morning, July 12, 2021 promptly at 9:00AM Pacific Time.
We ask that you come prepared with questions and concerns after reading the enclosed Human Resources manual. Additionally, please ensure to supply the Human Resources team with a copy of your Social Security Card, Government ID (Driver’s License, or equivalent), and ACH form to receive direct deposit. Please note: TCU does NOT issue paper checks, therefore you MUST supply us with routing and banking information in order to ensure timely receipt of payment.
Once your virtual onboarding is complete, your direct supervisor will meet with you to review your agreed upon job description, introduce you to projects, and discuss your expected schedule.
Even though this is a virtual role, we expect all TCU Employees to be properly groomed and dressed. We expect you to appear in business casual attire at all times, with an orderly and quiet space whenever you appear on camera. Please note: TCU maintains a culture of ON CAMERA meetings. Staff who do not comply with this policy will receive disciplinary action. Please review pages 15 and 17 of your Human Resources manual for additional information on this policy.
Please do reach out if you have any questions. We are happy you’re here.
Warmest Regards,
Barb
Joey skimmed over the message briefly before launching his phone back onto the couch. He sat down, opened his MacBook Air, and Googled, “what is business casual?”. After reviewing the results, he ran to his closet. His separation from Viralyte required all his clothing be returned; a detail of his contract that he didn’t understand when he signed it: everything was rented. All that remained were white tank tops that he bought from a Target in Miami Beach, when his luggage was lost.
“Shit.” Joey thought so loudly, he mind as well have said it out loud, before fetching the keys to his Toyota Prius and setting off towards the Grove.
8:37 AM
“Fuck!” Joey yelled, clutching his iPhone between his hands, standing in the shadow of a Banana Republic that Google just reported to him would not open until 10AM.
The standard fare eight o’clock hour denizens of the Grove ignored this outburst, lazily yet purposefully walking their dogs, sipping their iced lattes. A security guard looked at him strangely as if to say, no more of that, okay?
Joey challenged the look by proclaiming, Sorry dude, just curious if any of these stores might open soon? Or like, already be open?
Clothing stores? the security guard replied, Nah, bro… Nothing open now. You might want to try Ross across the street.
Ross, Joey replied, Right. Thanks man. He walked away, feeling disgusted at the thought of discounted clothing.
8:55AM
SUBJECT: RUNNING BEHIND
FROM: JOEY KECK
BODY:
Barbra -
Running a few minutes late.
I’ll be ready for onboarding no later than 9:30.
Talk Soon.
-Joey
Upon hitting send, Joey banged his fist against the door of Ross, Dress for Less. A store associate, identified as Leilani by her name tag, began to say,“We’re not open yet before a 180 degree change in her expression caused her to skip like a schoolgirl to the front doors, which she swiftly unlocked, saying, Mr. Keck, we’re not quite open yet, but I’ll make an exception… For you.
Thanks. Joey replied with a flat affect, grabbing hold of the door and pushing past Leilani, taking off in a sprint towards the Menswear section.
His iPhone buzzed with a new message from Barbara Foss. Joey dismissed the notification as he selected a white button down shirt that we figured would fit him. Libby usually took care of measurements but he seemed to recall that he wore a size medium the last time he ordered a shirt for himself as a part of the soccer team at Indiana State.
9:17AM
Hi Barbara, Joey said aloud to a black box on his MacBook’s screen that said “B.Foss iPhone”.
Joey, the box replied, What time did my onboarding email instruct you to report to your first day with Topanga Credit Union?
A smirk appeared across Joey’s face, drawing the parallel between Barbara Foss’ voice and that of Frances Sternhagen, the actress who played Bunny McDougal in Sex and the City, with whom Joey did an advertising campaign for a New York City-based liquor brand this past fall. For a moment, he felt himself turning on the charm he usually reserved for brand campaign meetings. The charm that Libby told him would make him a billionaire.
Barbara, Joey began, I am SO sorry. There was a crazy gas leak in my building, and they wouldn’t let us in until three minutes ago.
Understood, Barbara replied succinctly, neither pulling for any additional details nor assuring that everything was alright, And just for your information, my name is Barbara, spelled B-A-R-B-A-R-A. Your emails spelled it Barbra. At TCU, we pride ourselves on our customer service, and that starts with how we speak to one another. Got it, Joey?
Got it, Joey replied.
Barbara’s black box moved to the upper right hand corner of Joey’s screen as she began sharing her screen. The following words appeared across Joey’s screen:
TOPANGA CREDIT UNION. NEW HIRE ORIENTATION
LAST UPDATED: FEBRUARY 2021.
10:37AM
Barbara offered Joey a 10 minute break. Bathroom, water, a quick stretch, those sorts of things. He had been listening intently, with a feigned eagerness to attempt to win her back following his tardiness. He asked questions that he felt were thoughtful, as Barbara ran through the PowerPoint slides which she, according to her, feels like she was born reciting.
Remote-first dress code (business casual from the waist up), virtual backgrounds (always on), cameras (always on), the TCU VPN (always connected).
While Joey took a very loud piss, he Googled VPN before pulling up WhatsApp and thumbed down until he found Libby.
What’s VPN? He typed out before their last conversation rang loudly in his ears.
We will only communicate, from here on out, about the closing out of business from Viralyte, Libby’s disembodied head said over FaceTime, a sternness he never expected to be used in his direction. I will reach out to you. You will not reach out to me. You will hear from me specifically about direct deposits expected to hit your accounts. Nothing else. Got it?
Joey flushed the toilet, put his phone back into his pants, and let out a sigh that said Back to Barbara we go.
12:30 PM
Time for Joey’s 30-minute unpaid lunch break. Barbara had spent the last two hours droning on about more corporate policies, mostly as it relates to cybersecurity and maintaining the well-being and integrity of TCU’s client financial data.
It was clear from TCU’s extensive interview process that, at no point, would Joey be handling client financial data, so he was only half paying attention, allowing his gaze to fall just beyond his webcam where his personal computer sat. He scrolled through Twitter while Barbara droned on, making sure to nod intently and smile when required. If all corporate work was an exercise in making a show at paying attention until it was time to fein in some way, Joey would have no problems here.
As soon as Joey exited Zoom, he walked over to the mirror, took his shirt off, and began sizing up his abdominal muscles again. He dropped to the floor and began to perform doing crunches, as if there was a live studio audience screaming at him, throwing tomatoes at him, his body moving wildly fast and controlled. After five minutes of this show, Joey reached for his phone and opened up Postmates.
Erwon smoothie he put into the search bar. Nothing came up.
Erwom smoothie he put into Google.
Did you mean Erewhon smoothie? Google suggested.
Joey toggled back to Postmates. With tax, delivery free, and a 15% tip Joey would pay $31.36 for the Hailey Bieber's Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie
Another furious refrain from Libby rang in his ear. We have to put you on a budget! She began issuing this retort after a particularly expensive, raucous trip to Saint Moritz. Though the trip was largely funded by a new sparking water company, Joey overspent on everything, particularly room service booze. The sparking water company refused to cover above the contracted amount for lodging and room service, so the rest came from Viralyte. It wasn’t the final straw but a close to final straw that ultimately impacted Libby’s reputation at Viralyte while Joey got yet another European vacation with everything he wanted.
Despite Libby’s internal protests, Joey hit order and then toggled to his Bank of America app.
CURRENT BALANCE: $22,789.56
Rent wasn’t due for another two and a half weeks. Five thousand two hundred and sixty-seven dollars, even. His lease was up in a couple months (another question for Libby), at which point he would surely downsize. A few more checks from Viralyte as they close things out, plus his salary from TCU which, while small, would prevent him from getting him to a place where he had to seriously consider a budget. Joey X’d out of his banking app and checked Outlook for his schedule for the remainder of the day. Only one more meeting, an hour long event called a TouchPoint with his managing supervisor, Adelina, which would start at 2PM. What was he supposed to do until then?
He switched off his phone screen, swerved across the room before falling onto the couch and yelling “Alexa, wake me up in an hour”, gently closing his eyes.
2:05PM
Joey opened his eyes as the sound of artificial wind chimes followed him from his dream state into his waking world. He glanced down at his Apple Watch and saw the time. Five minutes past two. Almost six. He scrambled up off the couch, pulled his shirt back on, and flung his computer open, toggling to Zoom immediately.
Adelina, I’m so sorry. There was this gas leak in my building this morning, he began.
Joey, it’s fine. Adelina stated, Barbara already told me. Sounds like a bit of a rough first day for you so far. I hope everything is peachy from here on out.
Joey was shocked by Adelina’s calmness, a stark contrast to the business professional woman he met in his interviews. Her sternness filled him with existential dread. Would he become like her if he took this job, so serious about the production of digital marketing materials that a crack of the smile might interrupt some essential element of the conveyor belt between his candidacy and the delivery of a brochure that says, SAVINGS STARTS HERE!, into the inboxes of exhausted, dead-eyed people across Southern California?
He reached to his personal computer and toggled to Instagram on his browser and typed Adelina Flowers into the search bar. Within moments he found her account, the “Follow Back” button indicating a one-sided relationship that significantly predated this conversation. He’d have her wrapped around his finger in no time.
So, Adelina started, Do you have any questions for me?
The blood rushed from Joey’s face into his hands, a feeling he always got when he was put on the spot.
Uhh, Joey began, So, Barbara was talking a lot about the integrity of client financial data, he gulped as he saw Adelina nodding along, almost in sync with each word, But it was my understanding that the uh, marketing department, uh, doesn’t touch client data?
The upwards inflection that he ended his sentence with infuriated him. He could confidently speak to hundreds of thousands of people on a daily basis about whatever new adaptogen-laden tea he was shilling on Instagam but suddenly he couldn’t string together a simple question on corporate policies.
It seemed like a simple question, yet Adelina’s response was not simple. It was clear that there were countless hours of conversations and deliberation that went into the decision to include the information on client financial data into the onboarding materials for all new TCU employees. The topic was carefully poked and prodded by all managers in the organization, run through a sort of focus group of inane questioning, until the very topic at hand so saturated with opinions that no one could pick it up any longer. The content would remain and, when someone asked a simple question, like Joey’s, the answer was long, convoluted, confused, and impossible to maintaining focus on.
2:27PM
The conversation between Joey and Adelina devolved into an inventory of TCU staff who Joey should schedule one-on-one meetings with. There was Marcie who handled Ad Sales. Patricia in Accounts Payable. Karly in Scheduling. Spencer in the Call Center. The names continued on and on. Joey would love all of them.
Well, Adelina started before pausing for an unintentionally uncomfortable amount of time while gazing at Joey’s collarbone, I know we carved out this hour to chat. But you have more than enough to do, so I’ll let you work through the rest of your onboarding materials. We will talk tomorrow!
Joey pondered his To Do list. He covered the entirety of the onboarding presentation with Barbara. He took a photo of his driver’s license, e-mailed it to Barbara. Something having to do with a W form.
As Joey opened up the Common Drive to poke through company files, his phone lit up with Jag’s name. With a slight air of fear, Joey glanced at the phone then glanced away before accepting the call.
2:29PM
Hello Jag, Joey stated.
Hey pussy bitch, Jag screamed over a distant din of techno music, how’s life in loserville treating you?
It’s fine, bro, Joey replied, keeping the exact details close to his chest, What are you up to? It’s so fucking loud.
Bruh, Saint Tropez… You know how it is Jag replied. Shit’s fucking wild.
Joey paused, attempting to figure out what exactly to say to Jag. It was this exact experience that Joey told his therapist Mark he was happy to get away from. The coked up mid-afternoon phone calls from people like Jag who cozied up to him so that they could accompany him on brand trips, sleeping on a hotel suite couch and skimming off photo shoot buffets under the guise of a supportive friend. Jag was the upper limit of this type of person; the most thirsty and shamelessly aggressive with his freeloading. He was in his mid-40s, or so Joey thought, rail thin in a way that suggested chronic malnutrition, and seemingly lived in hotels between and amongst these lux European destinations like St. Tropez, Monaco, and Ibiza. What brought the two of them together, that offered Jag a direct line to Joey, was lost amid a haze of brand trip coke. Joey felt bad for him, at times, but decided to remain firm in his boundary to keep Jag out of his life. He took a deep breath and spoke aloud the boundary exercise he had practiced in a recent session with Mark.
What is it that you want from me, Jag, Joey questioned firmly.
What is it that you want from me JAG, Jag replied, mimicking Joey word for word, Jesus Christ did corporate America take away that joie-de-vivre so quickly?
Jag, I’m not really in the mood for this right now, Joey replied, evading Jag’s accusations. In fact, I’m super busy so if we could just cut to the ch–
Jag’s mood suddenly changed, cutting Joey off.
Fuck man, whatever. Alright, bro can you do me a solid though. Remember that PR chick from the Vogue party in London back in March? What was her name? Annabella?
What about Annabella, Joey replied playing along.
Ok bro, so, I sent her like six DMs, right, she’s managing the list for this dope ass party out here this weekend according to my girl Lilia, right? Jag replied.
Who the fuck is Lilia, Joey thought.
She follows you man, still, after everything. And she likes all of your pics. You know she thinks you’re like totally fucking hot, even if you’re just another loser with an Instagram now. Jag continued, What if you put in a good word for us? Get us on the list? Come on man.
Joey’s face reddened with anger. Just as Mark suspected, being firm with his boundaries sped through the usual pageantry of Jag’s social climbing, cutting right to the request. Put me in touch with this person to get me into this party.
Joey took a deep breath and continued along the lines of his roleplay with Mark.
I’m not doing these sorts of things for you anymore, Jag. Joey replied, feeling himself lose control of the roleplay, You’ll have to find someone else to ceaselessly take advantage of. You know I’m only fucking 24 years old, right? Doesn’t it feel fucking weird to be 45 fucking years old–
I’m not forty fucking five, bro, Jag interrupted.
You look fucking 45, man. Joey replied, You look older actually. I have to go.
Joey hung up, turning back towards his computer, opening up a file folder called Standard Operating Procedures.
4:25PM
Joey took a step back from his computer, glancing at the detailed outline of notes that he had been taking since hanging up on Jag. He hadn’t peeled his eyes away from the screen for nearly two hours, creating a detailed outline of the things he needed to know to do his job not just effectively but above and beyond expectation.
In looking at the outline, he felt a satisfaction that hadn’t been felt since his first semester at Indiana State. Soccer scholarship, courses in anatomy and physiology, Joey looked forward to an ordinary yet satisfactory life as a physical therapist. This was before Viralyte found his Instagram and offered to fly him to Los Angeles to meet other kids like him to create silly dancing videos that were allegedly used to sell things like coconut water and gym memberships. This was before telling Jim, the Indiana State soccer coach, that he was leaving school to pursue a full-time career as an influencer and model. This was before handing over his future to Libby and team, before the Jag’s of the world, before he put cocaine to his nose for the first time, before there were articles titled Five Things You Need to Know About Joey Keck, before he completely forgot how to do anything for himself, and before everything that the world had to offer seemed so unbelievably boring, when Joey was still elated at the sight of learning something new, of obtaining information, no matter how big or small, that would bring him closer to a quiet, peaceful life with a modest house in a normal suburb somewhere in the Midwest where he’d coach soccer and sleep with his wife who did pilates and had only left the country that one time, on that high school trip to Paris which changed her world forever and satisfied her thirst for adventure forever.
This outline would be the first step to getting back on that track. He’d get promoted to Senior Marketing Coordinator, then Marketing Officer. He’d go to conferences and Barbara would warm up to him as he sent over his expense reports. She’d sign her e-mails Cheers! Instead of Regards and they’d share a cheeky yet harmless dance at the TCU Christmas party. As he got lost in his work, his Instagram follower count would slowly deflate, but he’d hardly notice. He’d delete the application from his phone, altogether. Occasionally he’d log onto Instagram from his browser and type in the name of his high school girlfriend Lana, and he’d send her a DM. She was married briefly, an innocent exploration of young love. She’d just moved back home, living with her parents and hanging out with Gina and Rachel who have always thought of Joey fondly. Joey would talk to Barbara, she’d talk to her boss, who would talk to their boss, who knew someone at a small credit union in Indiana. They were looking for a new VP of Marketing. Joey would get the job. Him and Lana would buy a house. They’d have a couple over for dinner on Sunday night. The four of them would smoke some weed, drink some beers, laugh about some inconsequential complaints of suburban life, make plans to hang out again next weekend. He’d crawl into bed with Lana. She’d give him a half-hearted hand job. He wouldn’t cum. He didn’t care. He’d never look back on the life before.
This all became possible with the outline.
4:40PM
SUBJECT: Brief TouchPoint: Joey, Barbara, Adelina
BODY:
Joey,
Please join us for a brief call at 4:45PM.
B
4:45PM
Joey was chipper, thinking of how he might slip in some of his new ideas into this phone call, which was likely to cover the highlights and questions of his first day. He began to write these items down on a Post It note in front of him so that he didn’t forget. As he put his pen to the paper, he heard the chime of a new e-mail coming in
SUBJECT: FWD: This is your new employee by the way
BODY:
The Accusations Against Joey Keck
Joey froze. He read the email further. It was a link to an article that explained, in detail, the events that led up to his separation from Viralyte.
Sent directly to Barbara Foss from Jagger Jorgenson.
Motherfucker, Joey murmured to himself.
4:47PM
Joey, Barbara began, this time appearing as a disembodied head At the Topanga Credit Union we pride ourselves on the integrity of our workforce. As a community-owned and operated organization, we must represent the –
I’ve got it, Barbara Joey stated You’re letting me go.
We’re letting you go, Joey. Barbara replied Effective immediately. I’ll drop off now, but Adelina will talk next steps.
Barbara’s disembodied head vanished, leaving a wistful looking Adelina gazing towards Joey.
Joey, Adelina began, I never said this but I knew about all of this. I’ve followed you for quite some time, I mean, everyone follows you so it’s not weird or anything.
Joey remained silent.
I think it’s great what you’re doing, noble even. Adelina continued, I wasn’t going to bring any of it up and we could have probably gotten ahead of it if you disclosed it into your interview, but this Jagger person, he sent the article all around the company and we just had to do something.
While Joey lost his words, he slowly filled with rage. Rage towards Jag, towards his soccer coach who let him go so easily, rage towards Mark whose boundary exercise caused this, rage towards the weirdos from Viralyte who took a normal life away from him, and rage at himself for making it happen.
As Adelina droned on, something about a box arriving in the mail for him to return his equipment, Joey slowly closed his laptop until her voice cut off abruptly.
Joey continued his slow, careful movement towards the door, lacing on his walking shoes. Opening the door, he immediately almost tripped over the melted remains of the Hailey Bieber Strawberry Glaze Skin smoothie that he ordered for lunch. Libby’s refrains began in his head ahead – careless, wasteful, a disgrace.
He scooped up the smoothie, feverishly rushing to the kitchen garbage where he launched the melted strawberry puree into his past. Thirty one dollars and thirty six center down the drain. He rushed back over to the sofa where he cell phone sat, pulled up the Bank of America app again, and reflected on his balance while taking a seat on the floor. Once rent was debited and he fed himself for a couple of weeks, he’d be down to ten thousand dollars, probably. The final Viralyte checks would come, eventually, but he’d never see his balance above twenty thousand again if he didn’t liquidate a portion of his stock portfolio, which he told himself he’d never do. He put his phone down, ran his fingers through his hair, and thought about what to do.
5:35PM
Joey had decomposed into the fetal position next to the couch, clutching his phone between his two hands, furiously scrolling through Instagram.
Beneath every photo from the last two or so years were accounts searching for Brand Ambassadors and collaborations. They all said something like we love your style! or DM us to collab!. Joey had composed a brief message in his notes app, explaining that he had gone out on his own and would be handling his own partnerships. He was eager to work with brands like theirs – owner-operated, sustainable, mission-oriented – buzzwords he found when he searched ethical consumption Reddit.
After sending upwards of forty DMs, he rolled over to his back, staring up at the ceiling. He wiped the sweat from his brow and attempted to do the box breathing exercise that Mark taught him. He assembled two boxes with the back of his mouth and diaphragm before opening up Instagram again and seeing the green circle story from the account LifeOfJaggggggggg indicating a new post for only close friends was shared by Joey’s new arch enemy.
Jag was bent over a cell phone which was placed on a mahogany table on the deck of what appeared to be a very large yacht somewhere in the waters off the shore of St. Tropez. There was a smattering of cocaine atop the screen, which was lit up to reveal the article The Accusations Against Joey Keck. In the video Jag bent over, snorting the substance and yelling Fuck You Joey Keck at the camera.
Joey locked his phone screen before sitting up, sprinting towards the door, lacing up his running shoes, and exiting his building. Holding his phone in his hand, he made his way back through Park La Brea, past the Tar Pits, over to Wilshire, until he made it to Santa Monica Boulevard. He paused for a moment, starting at Google Maps to orient himself towards the ocean.
Upon finding his bearings, Joey began to run, faster and faster, towards the Santa Monica pier, halting the movement of cars through green lights, ignoring the barrage of honks and fuck yous being hurled in his direction. All the while, his phone continued to ding, messages in response to his plea for more work, for more attention, which an hour ago seemed like a great idea, but now felt like the prick of a lobotomy needle scrambling his prefrontal cortex into mashed potatoes.
7:14PM
Joey stood panting, gazing out into the drama of the Pacific Ocean. As he walked slowly towards the end of the pier, he toggled to the Instagram Account settings, and selected “Delete Account”. When he was urged to consider this choice, for it could not be reversed, he didn’t think twice.
He placed his phone onto the wooden boards keeping him from plunging into the sea, stepped slowly on top of the screen, feeling the glass shatter beneath his weight. He stood like this for what felt like thirty minutes, but what was likely only a few seconds before shifting his weight back and kicking the broken phone into the sea.