I’ve spent years writing about the intersection of technology, culture, and policy. When social media is increasingly used to create events, rather than report on them, I find that work increasingly relevant.
It is one thing to write an essay here or a newsletter there. Given the potential harms, utilizing adding additional forms, like narrative, seems warranted. General American is a seven-part short story about a fast foot crew suddenly confronted with a corporate AI that threatens their erasure.
A new installment will be published daily. Additional info, like the accompanying playlist, can be found at the Stories page.
~Matthew
Scene 6 - Mopping Up
Two weeks later, Joel stood before the assembled team before opening. He tapped the back of his clipboard against his free hand to get the group’s attention.
Jamal slipped in at the last moment and hung toward the back, where he was less likely to be noticed.
“Okay, okay. Let’s get started.”
Joel paused, making sure he had everyone.
“Okay. As of this morning, I can confirm the apology that you’ve probably seen on social media is legit. Frylies corporate has released a public statement. From here on out, if anyone asks you about it, you’re to refer to it as a ‘regrettable bug’ or ‘rare, one-time’ anomaly,” Joel said, making air quotes.
“If you’re pressed for any further comment, refer the person to Frylies PR - you should all have the number. Or refer them to me, and I’ll do it. Everyone got it?”
“But what about us?” Rosa asked, arms crossed.
Joel’s air quotes returned.
“Well, for one, it means that I’ve been demoted from manager to ‘acting manager’ until they can find and train a replacement.”
The room went quiet. Even the ice cream compressor was silent.
“And while they still don’t know exactly how the configuration settings got changed, it did occur while Mrs. Alvarez was the senior person in charge.”
The group tensed.
“As these things go, it’s important that for the company to show they’re taking this seriously. That’s why, unfortunately, she has been let go.”
Jamal’s eyes went wide.
“What!?” Rosa hissed, “We all know Jamal did it. Why does Mrs. Alvarez have to pay for his screw-up?”
Jamal started to speak before Joel cut him off.
“We’re not going to start pointing fingers,” Joel said, setting his clipboard down. “What’s done is done. This was handed down from above. I can’t say for certain what they took into consideration, but it is now a closed matter.”
Rosa turned to the group to plead her case, but then spotted Jamal.
“I hope you’re happy, asshole.”
“Stop,” Joel made sure he caught Rosa’s eye, “Just stop.”
He set down his clipboard.
“I know we all love Ms. Alvarez. She’s been a part of the Frylies family, it seems like forever. Certainly, since before I started working at this location. And it would be a mistake to expect anyone to just take her place. But we need the help, so I called in a favor.
“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to Teresa.”
The door to Joel’s office, which had been open a crack, now opened fully. The new employee stood in front of the assembled group, cradling her Frylies visor in front of her with her hands.
Jamal blinked.
“Mrs. Alvarez?”
Joel didn’t look at him.
“Everyone, this is Teresa,” he said. “She is starting today.”
There were murmurs of recognition within the group.
“Now, I know you may have questions. I’m happy to answer those with you privately when we have a moment. But-“ Joel paused to check his phone, “-we’ve got a big day ahead of us. Let’s get to it.”
“And Jamal? Teresa?” Joel retrieved his clipboard. “Let’s have a quick word. My office, please.”
Jamal steered clear of Rosa and followed the other two to the office.
“Close the door,” Joel said while he sat in his seat.
Jamal pulled up short. Phil the Fry was there, eyes boring into him.
He coughed, nervously, to clear his throat.
“Mrs. Al-,” Jamal stammered, cutting himself off, “I mean, Teresa. I, I didn’t think it would -.”
He stopped.
“I’m sorry.”
“You did a stupid thing, because you’re a stupid boy. Your heart is in the right place, but your head is en el culo.” Teresa pinched Jamal’s cheek as if she were his abuela, despite nearly being a full head shorter.
“Breaking things might feel good when you did it,” she continued, “but you take your shot and miss? You might end up hitting someone que sí te importa.”
“Now Jamal,” Joel said, elbows propped up on his knees, “this only works if Teresa is a new person. That means no ‘Yo, Mrs. Alvarez!’, no ‘Big up, Ms. A’. This is a huge risk; we screw this up, I’m out, Teresa’s out, and who knows who else. We clear?”
Jamal looked at each of them in turn.
“Yes, yes. Absolutely. I got it. But-“ he swallowed. “I should tell Rosa sorry, too. I really didn’t mean for her to get caught up in any of this.”
“Un momento, Jamal,” Teresa said, shaking her head. “Let me talk to her. Rosa will come around, but she is going to need some time.”
She turned back to Joel.
“Anything else, boss?”
“No, Teresa, we should be good here. Please do one more pass and make sure we’re set to open. Jamal and I have one more thing. Thank you.”
“De nana,” she said, and she saw herself out.
Joel slapped his knees.
“All right. Let’s go for a walk.”