Dolla Dolla Bill
Not only does Freddie work for such a company, but he is also one of the population that exhibits a very weak and fragile immune system; he was the child of a mother that abused a substance or two during her pregnancy. So for that reason, Freddie does not work on the weeks that the weak-targeting formula is being produced.
But, due to unforeseen circumstances that had been piling up in the form of bills, Freddie had to take a couple of shifts during the wrong week. And even though during these shifts Freddie tried to be careful, Freddie still found himself distracted at one point with the sound his desk fan makes. It was during such a bout of distraction that he dipped his left pinky finger in the clear mixture that sat in a small cup on his desk waiting for his approval.
He sat astonished. How could he be so dumb? Who could help him? How long did he have? Was there a protocol for this in the training module? If only he’d paid attention to those boring training modules.
Rushing out of the room, he looked to the left, then to the right. There were all the familiar doors that he passed regularly on his way into his office, but to whom these offices belonged, he couldn’t say. To be perfectly honest, he couldn’t remember ever even seeing anybody in his actual department. Random employees all just sort of communed from wherever to fill up the break room for lunches and snacks around noon. They didn’t ever have reason to communicate with anybody outside of their higher ups (who usually called them).
Coming up to the closest one to his left, he knocked in a calm manner that didn’t really jive with his current situation. “Hello?” he said. “I have a question about the product and I was hoping that you could help. Hello?”