Everybody Rise

“Hold on.” Evelyn spoke back into the phone: “Milla? Sorry, some girl in a baby tee is pestering me for something. I’ll call you when I’m leaving, okay? Maybe we can meet at Bar Sixty-eight?”

 

 

“I’ll probably be napping, but call.”

 

“Thanks for the compliment on my T-shirt,” the woman said in a sickly sweet voice as Evelyn pressed end.

 

“Anytime,” Evelyn said in a matching tone. “What was it you wanted?”

 

“I was told you were going to help with some of the marketing flyers.”

 

“People Like Us doesn’t have marketing flyers. That’s part of the point.”

 

“There are flyers, and your bosses wanted them distributed in person to the guests.”

 

“Flyers? Who made the flyers?”

 

“Our firm did, at People Like Us’s request.”

 

“This is absurd. I didn’t even know about this and I’m the head of membership.”

 

“Maybe you should try on one of our baby tees and see where it gets you,” the woman said. “See Simon at the back of the room for the brochures.”

 

Evelyn stalked back to where someone who had a HELLO, MY NAME IS … SIMON name tag stood. He was holding a stack of flyers, and Evelyn snatched one from the middle of the stack, sending several of the rest to the floor. As Simon scurried to pick them up, Evelyn got as far as “People Like Us, a new social network to connect with other fans of sports music * television shows” when she heard Jin-ho’s voice behind her and whirled around.

 

“What the hell is this?” she said, pinching the brochure like it was a used Kleenex. “Connecting with music and TV fans? I thought this beer-hall outing was bad enough in itself, but really? This?”

 

Jin-ho was irritatingly calm, taking the flyer from her and placing it neatly on the table. “We asked for membership growth, and we didn’t get it, so we’re trying something else,” he said.

 

“Without consulting me?”

 

“We asked you over and over to revamp the strategy, and your response was that your social friends wouldn’t like it.”

 

“That was not what I was saying, and you know that perfectly well. I was saying that we had to differentiate the site from the dozens of other sites out there. And pardon me if I don’t think a televised hockey game and some stock-photo flyers are the way to do it. I’m sorry, but this is absurd. There is beer on the floor, there is sawdust, the bathrooms are a gigantic health-code violation, and soon we’ll have commuters coming to get loaded before they take the four-fifteen to Paramus. These are not, by definition, people like us.”

 

Evelyn watched as Jin-ho’s ears turned pink. “I’m frankly not surprised at your response, Evelyn. Your attitude has been terrible for weeks, if not months, and you’re not doing what we ask you to.”

 

“I brought you guys the best members possible. Excuse me, Camilla Rutherford? Bridie Harley, who gets a front-row seat at Oscar and Carolina Herrera and she’s only twenty-eight? Caperton Ripp, whose family basically created Charleston?”

 

“That was when you started. What have you done in the last three months, Evelyn? Really? Point to one thing.”

 

“I’ve pitched one idea after another and heard nothing but no.”

 

“Your ideas aren’t particularly suited for our site.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was under the impression that People Like Us members, I don’t know, were well educated. Or well traveled. Or interested in the arts. In part because that’s who you told me you wanted for the site, and that, Jin-ho, is who I got. So forgive me for thinking that this hockey game you’ve arranged with your Rangers friend is massively off-brand.”

 

“Yes, Evelyn, you’re quite familiar with this group, as you never cease to remind us. You haven’t been doing what we’ve been asking you to do, however, which is increasing the membership to the levels Ulrich wants.”

 

“It will cheapen what People Like Us does,” Evelyn said. Jin-ho was just standing there, and she stared at him, waiting for him to admit he was wrong.

 

Jin-ho was looking behind her; Simon had vanished, and the busty girls were squeezing by to get supplies from the bar’s kitchen. “This isn’t working out,” Jin-ho said. “We’re going to have to let you go.”

 

“You’re firing me?” she said.

 

“Yes. Ann will call you Monday re the paperwork.”

 

“You’re firing me at a bar? Outside the bathroom in a bar?”

 

“I’m sorry if it doesn’t suit your high standards.” Jin-ho’s ears were now a deep red, though his face had little color in it at all. “Your performance has been subpar for some time, Evelyn, and if you can’t be bothered to participate in a membership event that we think is key to the site’s future, that tells us everything we need to know.”

 

“I want to talk to Arun.”

 

“Arun agrees with me. We were going to do it when you were back in the office, but why drag this out?”