Gotcha - On The Blind Side

When asked about her job, Julie Gerrard always said she never realized that an education from a high ranking university was only good for the Novelty Vomit Business. It was partly a joke but mostly not. Julie wasn't quite attractive or witty enough to break into anything better and – what was worse – everyone seemed to know it. She could see it in the way people detached themselves from her presence with sheepish smiles and guilty eyes.

Julie spent most days behind a computer. She’d been working phone orders for four years and could take calls in her sleep. Sometimes she did, and it was on those days when she got up and had to do it all over again that Julie wondered if this was all she was destined for; a life of spread-sheets and quarterly targets, scripted conversations and RSI, precious parents and their bratty offspring.

What Julie really wanted was to be the manager of District 9, an area where the kids were so spoilt that everyday was like Christmas. District 9 was about more than guaranteed performance bonuses and a flash company car; it was about respect and reputation and maybe even a little reverence. Julie thought she deserved a promotion but deep down she knew it wasn’t going to happen, not with Erica Stewart on the job.

Two years ago, Erica arrived with two cardboard boxes. One was full of little keepsakes, the kind you put in your cubicle to make a statement about yourself. There were dozens of group photos and in every single one Erica was right at the front and slap-bang in the middle. She had little novelty clocks and soft toys you could only win at carnivals. She had handmade mugs with ‘My Favorite Auntie’ and ‘The Best Daughter In The World’ scribbled on the side in obnoxious, bright letters. Julie suspected Erica had bought them herself.

The other box was considerably smaller. It contained miniscule biscuits and microscopic pieces of fudge and slices of cake so thin they fell apart when you lifted them. Julie had only known this from watching her colleagues eat because when Erica and her box had reached Julie, she’d eyed her up and down then snatched the food back.

“Sweetie,” she’d said. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin your diet.”

This comment was greeted by a silence so immense that Julie thought the world had stopped. She was sure everyone had seen the blood rush to her face and how Erica had bared her teeth like a rabid bitch in heat.

“Gotcha – on the blind side,” Erica had whispered and the world restarted without a single word said in Julie’s defense.

The silence had continued as Erica’s little blind sides got progressively worse. She friended Julie on Facebook just so she could make snide comments about her avatar. She hijacked Julie's conversations. She left weight loss pills in her bag and even ketchup on her desk handles. Julie thought of the company kitchen as the hurt locker because every time they ate, Erica would make a point of inviting everyone but her to parties and dinners and even the occasional weekend break.

Eventually, Julie became so numb she stopped going to the bathrooms to cry.

She came to realize that being bullied when you’re an adult is just as bad as when you were a kid. It was worse in a way because although workplace awareness posters were plastered on every second wall, nobody really wanted to hear about it. At least at school Julie could have talked to her parents or her teacher but at The Rubber Vomit Company there wasn’t one single person who had to be on her side by default.

The construction started in June, only two months before the District 9 Manager’s maternity leave begun. She’d said she would be back after the birth but everyone had seen stronger District 9 Managers buckle and collapse under horrific home life pressure. This particular Manager had a husband who was a serious man; everyone knew he’d put family before work, at least on his wife’s behalf.

Julie realized this, just as she realized part of their floor was cordoned off while the windows were being replaced. She realized there was a massive, man-sized gap and that a fall from the fifteenth floor would reduce a human body to bloody, shapeless pulp. Best of all, she realized that there was one simple solution to all her problems.

Then one sunny Monday morning it had happened like some miraculous gift from above. Erica had been standing only a few inches away from the windowless edge when she’d heard the ‘ding’ of the lift doors opening.

“Hey, come and check this out! Talk about freaky!” She’d called out without turning around, not knowing that Julie was alone in the lift and perhaps not even aware that the hall was silent and otherwise empty. Julie was fast; Erica didn’t have a chance to cry out before her shoulders were grabbed and she was pushed forward so her head hung right over the abyss.

It was only when she was holding Erica’s life in her hands way up in the air - fifteen floors high - that Julie had realized the most important thing of all. She’d let go of Erica’s shoulders and the woman had slumped to the ground. Julie could still hear her whimpering. She’d leaned forward until their noses were almost touching.

“Gotcha – on the blind side,” Julie had said.

The promotion to District 9 Manager went to an out-of-towner that year, but at least Julie never heard those five little words again. She never used them herself either, because she’d realized that sunny Monday how easily she could have become something much, much worse than Erica.



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