Human Capital

I first met Lady Zipperface on a street in Utsunomiya, Japan after he transported me from my home through what he called his “telepresencer device.” Though put off by his initial forward behavior, I nonetheless accepted his invitation to sushi, being employed as a lowly Associate at the time with few prospects of a decent meal.

The man, for so he appeared to me, asked I call him “Lady Zipperface,” which I thought odd given his apparent gender, and led me to a restaurant where we were served sushi by monkeys wearing human masks. Having never been to Japan I assumed at the time this was a traditional Japanese meal. It was only later I discovered it was actually fairly uncommon for monkeys to be employed overseas.  Lady Zipperface ordered for us in another language. Probably Japanese.

“Josh,” he said to me as we waited for our food, “I would like you to call me Lady Zipperface.”

“Ok,” I replied.

“I imagine you must be discomforted by the sudden change in your surroundings brought on by the telepresencer device. I apologize if you are experiencing this.”

I shrugged. Weird stuff had happened to me before. Once I found a hundred dollar bill rolled up in the toilet paper at a gas station bathroom. I remember ‘Mike is gay’ and ‘Jews suck’ being carved into the flecking blue paint above the toilet paper holder. I didn’t know Mike and I was fairly indifferent to the Jewish community, so neither bothered me.

“I am a being from beyond your world,” Lady Zipperface told me, “my technology is so far beyond human comprehension it may appear as magic to you. Please do not be alarmed at this.”

I shrugged again. I’d been in my apartment in Canton, Ohio ten minutes earlier, so it seemed like he wasn’t pulling my leg. I wondered if sushi was filling; I’d never had it before.

Lady Zipperface pulled some papers from his briefcase. They were sheets of old printer paper, the kind with the blue and white lines and the perforated edges. Each page was full of names and numbers. I’d seen that kind of paper before, when I was a lot younger. My dad used to load his old printer up with it and print things off on it.

“I obtained these records of your potential history from a corollary analysts  on Algon Seven,” Lady Zipperface explained, rotating the printout on the table and pushing it towards me. I could see my name highlighted in a faded pink color. Next to it was my birthdate, and then a bunch of other colums full of numbers. I couldn’t tell what they meant, but I nodded as though I understood what I was seeing.

“As you can see,” Lady Zipperface continued, “you are one of many of your species expected to live an office-dwelling life. Your overall employment expectancy is superior to most. In fact, very few of your species have such a potent ambivalence toward their situational appreciation. The figures here indicate you will remain quite satisfied without mate or spawn, instead choosing to devote yourself to retaining above-median financial status with impeccable employment security.”

A plastic-masked monkey appeared at our table in that moment, bearing two platers of sushi on beds of white rice and an assortment of dipping sauces. I chose a piece of sushi from my plate at random, not knowing what anything was, and dipped it in a bowl of orange-red sauce. I tried to look thoughtful as I chewed, though I had no clue what he was saying.

“It is because you are so… stable, I have sought you out. You see, I need someone of your unique attributes to assist me with an…issue…I posses.”

“What kind of issue?” I asked, still trying to appear thoughtful.

“I require….ah….request… that you would, during your employment, make a list of… of what is the technical word for it? Your language is so difficult at times…”

He seemed to be getting embarrassed, and I felt bad about that, so I said “I know.”

“…the speak. The technical words speak…” Lady Zipperface opened his briefcase again and pulled a yellow-edged book from it. The book had a black cover with weird lettering on the front. His briefcase was brown. “…Ah, here it is. ‘Corporate Jargon.’ I wish you to make me a list of the corporate jargon you hear throughout your work day. I will visit you occasionally, perhaps every few of your months, and would desire you very much to read me the jargon you had collected.”

I thought about that. It seemed simple enough. I mean, even with only being an Associate at Beckett & Hobbs I heard enough phrases get passed around in the day to help Lady Zipperface out.

He must have taken my silence as hesitation, because he fixed his steely grey eyes on me, looking just under the brim of the fedora only a few shades lighter than his eyes, and said something else:

“I will pay you one hundred of your dollars each time I visit you, if you will do this for me.”

Wow. An extra hundred dollars every month or two would be awesome. I might finally be able to get some of those Brooks Brothers shirts I saw the Senior Associates wear.

“Two hundred.” Lady Zipperface offered.

Two hundred! I’d be able to get some kaki Dockers with that. They wouldn’t even have to be on sale! I didn’t want to push my luck any further so I answered him.

“Sure, uh, Lady Zipperface. I can do that for you,” I told him. Man, his suit matched his hat perfectly.

“You will?” his eyes grew wide and hopeful. “You will do this for me, Josh?”

“Sure. I mean, two hundred bucks each time, right?”

“Yes. Two hundred. You have made me very happy Josh.”

“Hey, just… happy to help.”

He waited until I had finished my sushi to send me back to my apartment in Canton, which was kind of a drag; I didn’t really like the sushi all that much.

I didn’t see Lady Zipperface again until, oh, three months later. I think it was March by that time. I remember I had just been promoted to Lead Associate of my H.E.X. Team, and had bought some ice cream and rented a movie to celebrate. About three quarters of the way through the movie there he was, standing next to the drapes in my apartment. His gray suit and hat looked identical to the first one I had seen him in, though this time his tie was red instead of blue.

“Good evening Josh,” he said, which made me jump a little because I hadn’t seen him appear.

“Oh, um, hey Lady Zipperface,” I replied, wiping some errant ice cream from beneath my lip. “Good to see you again.”

“Have you done as I had asked?”

I had, so I answered,”Yeah. Sure did. Hold on, let me get them.”

He set his brown briefcase down and unbuttoned his coat while I went to my front door to where I’d hung my backpack. I didn’t feel important enough yet to carry a briefcase to Beckett & Hobbs, so I carried a Victorinox  backpack instead, which is where I kept the notes I’d made. I grabbed the bundle of scrap paper and post-it notes I’d been using to keep track of phrases I’d heard that he might like and carried it back to my living area where he waited.

“Here you go,” I said, holding out the papers to him.

He recoiled like I’d thrown scalding water on him.

“No!” He yelled so loud I took a step back, hurt by his outburst. He saw my reaction and comforted me immediately.

“No,” he said again, softer this time. “Josh, you must read them to me. I cannot read them myself. It would be a… crime.”

Ah, so that was it.

“Oh. Ok. Sure,” I told him. I grabbed the remote control off the coffee table and paused my movie. “Would you, ah, like to sit down?” I hoped that was polite. I didn’t have visitors over very often.

“No, thank you. I will stand here.”

“Do you mind if I sit down?” I asked. Is it rude to sit when a guest stands?

“No, not at all.”

I sat in my La-Z-Boy I’d bought on sale and moved around a bit to get comfortable. Lady Zipperface stood watching me.

“So… do I just… start reading?” I asked.

“Yes. Please.”

“Ok.” I cleared my throat. “‘For interoffice mail, continue addressing items to the individual, department, and location.’”

Lady Zipperface sighed heavily and closed his eyes. I saw the left corner of his mouth twitch a bit.

“More.”

“Ok… um…. ‘Thank you for your assistance ensuring that effective mail delivery continues without interruption. If you have questions about this communication, please e-mail.’”

“Yes. Keep reading. I will tell you when to stop.” Lady Zipperface held his ‘s’ in’ yes’ so that it was almost a hiss.

“‘Our support team is actively working to resolve the fax browser issues and there is no further need to report this to the Service Desk.’ Um… ‘the new Wellness Dimensions fitness initiative that encourages employees to walk during breaks, lunches, before/after work and even during meetings if appropriate.”Here is a matrix that you can refer to/save to your c drive to help understand the practice for what to do…’”

I continued to read for well over half an hour. During that time Lady Zipperface rarely moved, changing position only once to turn and brace himself against the wall with outstretched arms, as though holding up the building. I found my mouth becoming so dry it became difficult to speak. Yet if I hesitated even a little Lady Zipperface would insist I kept going. I decided then and there that if there were a next time I would have a glass of water handy. Or perhaps a lozenge.

The effect of the words on Lady Zipperface was astonishing to watch. During the minutes before I became too parched, and had hit a stride of sorts, I watched as his body began to ripple; it was as though his suit was the surface of a still lake and the words tiny raindrops. Each phrase caused small concentric waves to roll out from a central divot before returning to its solid appearance. This made an impression on me, to be sure; for I realized that his entire appearance was a generated falsehood of sorts. This made me feel slightly uneasy, but I feared to bring it up at the time.

“Thank you, Josh, you may stop now,” Lady Zipperface finally said, his voice rough as though he had exerted himself. His eyes remained closed and he continued leaning against the wall on stiffened arms.

I set aside my collection of notes and headed immediately around the counter for a glass of water. After taking several large gulps to try and wet my mouth again I asked him, “Was that the sort of thing you were looking for?”

He exhaled and paused for a beat before pushing himself from the wall and turning to face me.

“Yes. That was perfect Josh. Thank you.” He knelt to his briefcase and popped the latches. After rummaging around for a moment he removed two crisp one hundred dollar bills and placed them on the floor.

“Can I expect you again, then?” I asked.

But he was already gone.

I used the money he left to punch up my wardrobe a bit. After all, I reasoned, a Lead Associate at Beckett & Hobbs should look the part. I ended up settling on two shirts from Brooks Brothers after extensive research.

Lady Zipperface remained absent from my life for many months after that. In fact, it wasn’t until almost Christmas that year that he appeared again.

I had taken to keeping any new phrases I head around the office in a small Molskine notebook, which I’d heard were all the rage among creative types. My parents, who I usually visited in Vermont during that time of year, had called to say they would be on a cruise during the holidays, leaving me free for the entire season. I didn’t have anyone else to visit so I spent most of the time at the office. I was there when my office phone rang.

“Hello Josh,”

It was Lady Zipperface.

“Hello Lady Zipperface,” I replied, double-checking an email for any errors.

“I had very much hoped we could get together this evening. At your apartment.”

“Uh…” the email looked good. I sent it. “Sure. We could do that.”

“I am already here. Will you be here soon?”

I checked another email. There was a great phrase in it I could use tonight. I grabbed my Molskine and started jotting it down. “Sure. I’ll leave here in…” I checked my computer clock, “ten minutes.”

Lady Zipperface hung up without saying goodbye.

The drive to my apartment complex was made more trecherous  by the snow, which had been steadily falling for the past four days; early for this time of year. The rear end of my Nissan Sentra kicked out from behind me twice before I arrived safely. As I think back on it now, I wonder why Lady Zipperface didn’t just transport me they way he had that first night in Japan. Doesn’t really make a difference, I suppose.

He was sitting on the couch rubbing the television remote on his face when I walked in the door. He set it back onto the coffee table when he saw me.

“Ah, Josh. You have arrived.”

“Yes. I have arrived,” I responded, throwing my keys and wallet onto the entryway table but retaining my notebook. “I think I’ve got some really good ones for you tonight.”

“Excellent. Do you need to eat first?”

I thought about our first time. “No, I can wait. Let me get a glass of water,  though.”

Lady Zipperface inclined his head mildly in allowance.

Armed with a leftover cup from Circle-K full to the brim I sat in my La-Z-Boy chair and opened my Molskine. Lady Zipperface assumed the same position he had the previous time, leaning against the wall near the window on outstretched arms.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“Yes. Begin.”

I cleared my throat and began reading.

“‘Notification will  be sent when the new desk procedure is available.’

‘If you do not see the documentation example above then you will enter as usual.’

‘Per our meeting, here is the email.’

‘Please print a copy and bring with you to this morning‚Äôs meeting.’”

The ripples in his appearance began forming almost immediately, and much more rapidly than they had previously. Trusting his silence this time, I continued.

“‘We heard your feedback and started an extensive evaluation.’

‘During the past 10 weeks, we have been aggressively working on an initiative.’

‘Please share the following information with your staff.’

‘There has been an issue brought to our attention.’”

Ringlets appeared furiously, spreading up over his shoulders and down past his knees. With a strained voice he issued a single word.

“More.”

I flipped through the notebook looking for some more extensive phrases. Settling on a few I continued.

“‘If you require additional assistance feel free to contact the admin staff. Call center employees, please see your supervisor first.’

‘In order to simulate a real emergency, all employees are expected to follow the instructions issued to them by their respective area‚Äôs Emergency Team Member.’

‘Without integrity and a strong emphasis on ethical behavior, we would be unable to fully commit to providing our customers with the superior service they have come to expect from us.’

‘In the coming weeks, there will be a resource center on the Human Capital page that will have important information on how to obtain some of the documents that can be used.’”

Lady Zipperface held up his hand, indicating I should stop. He was breathing heavily and residual ripples were still subtly playing across his back.

“That is… enough.”

He stayed leaning against the wall while I tidied up, taking my water glass to the sink and rinsing some plates from last night’s dinner. It took quite some time before he had  recovered his composure; I was pleased with this, knowing I had done well.

“Thank you, Josh. That was most… gratifying.” He chose this time to place his briefcase on the back of the couch, snapping the clasps and removing two crisp one hundred dollar bills from somewhere within it. “It will probably be quite some time before I am able to visit again, but rest assured I will return.”

I was disappointed to hear that, of course. I’d had my eye on a nice Citizen watch at the jewelry store in the mall. All the Senior Associates wore watches. But, true to his word, it was almost eighteen months before I had what proved to be my final encounter with Lady Zipperface.

It was early in June, probably only the first or second. I had been promoted to a full-status Managing Associate after reporting some wasteful behavior my coworkers were participating in; they were laid off, and I was given my own team.

With the promotion and subsequent pay raise, I had chosen to buy a more sensible sedan, a Volvo, who’s payments I could now comfortably afford. I had also invested in a few good suits from the Men’s Warehouse, including one in the same charcoal gray that Lady Zipperface wore.

I was dressed in this suit, in fact, when Lady Zipperface appeared in the apartment. I had just finished eating and was at the sink cleaning my plate. One moment the apartment was empty, the next he was there, standing next to the window. His sudden appearance after so long an absence startled me, causing me to drop my Crate & Barrel plate, shattering it.

“Hello Josh. I apologize if I startled you.”

“Oh, its no trouble, Lady Zipperface,” I waved him off and obtained the dustpan from the small pantry door. “I wasn’t expecting you was all. No harm done.”

“I have not seen you in some time.”

“No, you said you would be gone for awhile the last time you were here. Looks like you meant it!” I joked.

“I had hoped you could… read for me again.”

I had continued to collect phrases from work, though I had switched to keeping them digitally in my Apple iPhone, which is what all the Senior Associates carried.

“Sure,” I told him. “Let me finish cleaning this up and we can get down to it.”

He stood passively by the drapery while I finished brooming up the remaining ceramic shards. I scooped them into the garbage can and then retired to my La-Z-Boy chair.

“Are you ready?” I asked Lady Zipperface.

“Yes.”

I fired up the notepad on my phone and began reading.

“‘It is clear that our morale and engagement is very high‚Äö which is comforting during this time of change and environmental stress.’

‘As you all are aware of, we will be structured different.’

‘We have continually sought to do our work with great dedication and innovation‚Äö doing things more efficiently and effectively which has led to process improvements and new technologies.’

‘Now is the time to pause briefly to join together in celebration of our latest milestone.’

‘I will keep you apprised of any substantial developments.’”

Lady Zipperface looked like a pool in a hurricane. There were so many colliding ripples it looked like he was vibrating. I continued on.

“‘However, as time passes, it simply allows us to continue to build on the already impressive record of service and accomplishment that you generate.’

‘This achievement is the culmination of the exemplary work each of you has been doing to fulfill the promise to our customers.’

‘Please know that this policy was not intended to cause anyone undue hardship.’

‘To that end, you will find that the policy has been revised.’

‘If you are selected to participate in one of these surveys, you will receive an invitation.’”

The surface of his back was vibrating so violently now that bubbles had begun to form. It was a strange site to witness, as they didn’t pop; they would rise and then slowly deflate back into the surface of his suit. They increased in frequency as I read, to the point that he appeared to be boiling.

It was then I chose to use my secret weapon, something that I’d been saving. I’d written several phrases of my own since being promoted, and each time I’d communicated with my team I’d though of Lady Zipperface. Switching documents on my phone, I began to read from phrases I had used with my team.

“‘It is our intent that any formal program would be created in such a way that potential program participants and supervisors have the necessary tools and knowledge to be able to work effectively and independently.’”

Lady Zipperface gasped audibly, hunching his sholders as though holding the wall up with all his might. I chose the next phrase.

“‘A cross-functional team has worked diligently over the past several months finalizing key program components including training, policies and procedures and other criteria for a successful program.’”

One of Lady Zipperface’s legs slid back, as though the weight of the wall was pressing back agains him and he was losing his traction. He vibrated and bubbled so fiercely now it was difficult to even look at him without feeling a sense of vertigo.

‘The following is a reminder about our escalation procedure, which can be utilized for issues you feel are not receiving appropriate attention.’

‘All, this is a note to advise that Evelyn’s father passed yesterday.  Please feel free to offer condolences for her loss.  Your sentiments at this time will be appreciated.’”

All at once Lady Zipperface shouted as though in pain and several of the bubbles on his back burst, dropping a dozen or so green globes to the floor with a chorus of soft bumps.

Each a perfect sphere, the globes appeared made of foggy green glass. They were completely symetrical and about the size of billiard balls.

Startled, I dropped my phone to the carpet. Lady Zipperface was hunched over, arms still outstretched against the wall, with his breath coming in ragged gasps.

This had never happened before. I had no idea what to do.

“Are you… alright?” I asked him. It took him a moment to answer.

“Yes,” he replied. His voice sounded warped, as though he were speaking though a robotic telephone.

“Can I… help… you?” I asked, still nervous. If I had hurt him in some way, would he still pay me? Or simply leave?

“I am… unhurt,” he answered, turning to face me. His face and hair were damp with sweat, or what I took to be sweat. The pupils of his eyes had turned to the same color of green as the globes on the floor. His mouth was pressed into a small bloodless line, as though he were under great exertion. He looked from me to the globes on the floor and frowned as though pained.

“What are those things?” I asked him.

“They are the nalja… ‘eggs’ to you, I suppose.”

He and I remained still, staring at the eggs for what must have been several minutes. Then, still silent, Lady Zipperface knelt to his briefcase, clicked open the clasps, and removed the money we had agreed upon. He placed it on the floor next to his briefcase and then gently collected the nalja, placing each one gingerly into his briefcase. After they had been secured he stood and, without a word, evaporated from view.

I didn’t see him again, after that.

I continued working until the company was purchased. After laying off most of the staff I was promoted to Managing Director and relocated to the new corporate headquarters in Boulder, Colorado.

{Original Photo by Moresheth – Used with permission}