Dear Stranger,
You should know that Rogue Girl One does not shy away from responsibilities. Even though she keeps away from early mornings and unnecessary phoniness.
But RG1 did report on the field the next day. With her devices and artillery in place. Equipped with masks, gloves and her protective kit.
If getting up monstrously early is the benchmark for competency, I don’t think I am competent. Or even wish to be. I am a free soul and working on such rules is not my thing. Sadly, sales work calls for such silly norms.
It was 8 in the morning and I was taking the first call among many while driving on a road I presumed would be empty courtesy of the lockdown but it was fraught with vehicles zigzagging every which way. I thought only essential services were allowed?
But here, people were chatting with each other, sitting inside autorickships waiting for stray passengers. Masked men and women on foot, cruisers, speeder bikes, desert skiffs, air taxis, podracers went about their business as if this was the only change needed to beat the virus. An effing mask.
Braking every few metres with The Weeknd blaring from the speaker, I was wondering how to tell the Lead Troops who I was on my way to visit that I didn’t want to get down from my warship. But how would I conduct the recruiting drive then? Damn.
Meanwhile, the morning call went on with usual gusto.
“RG1 has hit the field today.” The Dark Lord stared with a lovelorn appreciative glance at my outrageously funny picture on zoom. He does have a weird sense of humor. He gets a kick out of making people do dumb stuff. “And she is all set to make a huge difference.”
Very enormous difference I was set to make. Sure.
“Tell us about your mission, Gina.” The Dark Lord loves to set up an example.
“Today, I am here to recruit as many troops as possible to aid our cause. We will create a brand new team and achieve the aspirational target we set for ourselves.”
Since I had lied so much in a single sentence, I switched off my audio and video to prevent others from seeing my nose grow to a Pinocchio size.
When I reached the spot, I found Lead Troop A (henceforth LTA) waiting.
With a bunch of aspiring troops who wanted to join my team.
Purely for monetary reasons, of course.
“It’s not possible to take the interviews from the ship, is it?” I asked LTA.
“You certainly can, my Lady. I can send in one candidate after another. You can sit inside the ship and interview them.”
Damn. This was going backwards. I didn’t want them to bring the virus to my carefully-sanitized vehicle.
“Uhh well no, I guess it’s better to meet them face to face. But let us maintain—” a hundred feet of distance, I wanted to say but ended up saying “social distancing.”
“Sure, my Lady.”
And so, I exited my air-conditioned vehicle and launched myself into the blast of hot air that is so characteristic of the earthian summers. Whoosh! Had I forgotten what the month of June is like? The environment was as good as the one depicted on ravaged Earth in the sci-fi flick- Elysium. I mean, of course, we were on ravaged Earth and it was even worse than Matt Damon had made it seem on screen.
“Okay, fellas, introduce yourself.”
The worst question ever. And the worst part was I had had to shout it since I insisted on maintaining a one-arm distance.
“I am So-And-So and I was working in CrayTM. My job involved creating minimum five accounts per day from shops, retail points, and malls. I lost my job when the Lockdown happened.”
“All right. Sell me these earphones.”
I asked the age-old sales question and listened to him talking animatedly to me about how the airphones were not just waterproof and fireproof but if you also took it to the volcano or another planet, they would work just as well. The price was slightly steep but way too cheap for the quality of equipment he was selling.
Hmm, the guy knew how to con. He would do for my team.
“LTA, who is next?”
After about ten such candidates, I decided I was sweating like a pig and so was everyone else. Summer sales is the very worst of torments that an organization can inflict on its employees. And the Dark Lord feasted on the sweat and blood of the ones under him. It was a very useful procedure, even though I doubted it led to any actual work.
“Would you sell something if it involved you taking the Dark side?”
The guy didn’t hesitate even a beat before agreeing vehemently.
“I will do what it takes my Lady. Be it worshipping the Sith Lord or going to whichever side I have to.”
Pliable and willing to do what it takes. Good. LTA had amassed some good recruits.
“My Lady, can we take a picture?”
“Excuse me?”
Oh yeah. One important part of sales is show. You got to show what you are doing. Like on a huge ass scale. LTA knows that well. He is the best performing member of my team. And boy, does he know how to project well on the official WhatsApp group.
A minute later, I saw a snap of mine in a weird witch circle with ten other troops maintaining about five feet of distance from each other on the group. LTA captioned it: “Market storming led by RG One”
LOL. Much storming I did.
There is this mad rat race to win something which is not even worth winning. Going out when your life is at stake. Starting early when all it matters is to get the work done. Winning the approbation of those who couldn’t care less about you. Fighting this race to be ahead on parameters that you, at your core, couldn’t care a hoot about.
Why? Why am I Regent Gina One? Will I ever have the courage to turn into my alter ego? Rogue Girl One?
Sweaty and broody,
The Rogue Stormtrooper
