by GIDEON GINRACHMANJINJa-VITUS, Alternate Reality News Service Economics Writer
After two years of working at home, Lydia Hatrackian was ready to strangle a ferret. And not a North American ferret, either: an Australian ferret. A ferret that fights back.
Even though she was putting in 28 hour work days as an advertising copywriter (some day, if she worked hard enough at it, she might actually come up with original tag lines), the isolation made her feel like she wasn’t actually working. Since she knew she wasn’t having fun, the fact that she was always tired confused the bejeebers out of her.
And she had always held tight to her bejeebers.
So Hatrackian signed on to VirtWork, where, for a flat fee (although added features made the fee look fat), she could attend a Zoom session with half a dozen people she didn’t know to feel like she was back in an office.
“At first, I was wary of working with strangers,” Hatrackian admitted. “But then, when I remembered what horrible people I had to work with in my office before COVID shut it down, I thought this was actually better. Hey, since I have your attention, what do you would be more effective selling vacuum cleaners? ‘You are the light at the end of kimono?’ Or, ‘You are the light at the end of the Mononoke?”
While the possibility of having her work progress monitored by complete strangers was comforting, after a while Hatrackian started to feel that there was something missing from the experience. After an extensive internet search (it lasted almost three minutes!), she signed up with Hardly Workin’, a company that promised to “recreate the true office experience for those working in Zoom caves.”
Hardly Workin’ developed bots that would randomly insert themselves into the Zoom feeds of workers. They would start every conversation with, “Hey! How’s it goin’?” Then, they would go on about the weather, how terrible their co-workers are, how terrible bosses are and random subjects like whether wood is the new southern comfort, or what to do when confronted with a baby’s arm holding an apple. The bots were equipped with a sophisticated program that analyzed clients’ responses and determined the line at which their banter was interfering with client productivity; they kept talking for four and a half minutes after that because, you know, the true office experience.
“Now,” Hatrackain enthused, “it’s a work party!”
The company also issued random memos to clients purporting to come from management with messages that ranged from typical corporate flummery (“Productivity was down 48% last quarter – work harder, or China’s going to drink our milkshake!”), to motivation (“The cow that eats the most grass gets the biggest promotional plaques!”), to the philosophical (“Would the you of yesterday even recognize the haircut of the lover of the you of tomorrow?”). Every third memo had something to do with the office kitchenette (whether it’s keeping the counter clean, being sure to refill the coffeemaker with water when you see it getting low or not bringing Wombat Chow in a plastic container and leaving it in the fridge to punish whoever has been taking everybody else’s food without permission).
“The content of the memos is largely irrelevant,” explained Hardly Workin’ CEO Hartley Walken. “We expect them to be ignored…just like in real life. But people who have been working from home for so long seem to take comfort in the idea that there is a distant corporate bureaucracy whose sole purpose for existence seems to be to interfere with them getting their jobs done.”
For additional fees, clients can have an even fuller office experience. The Gold Plated Package, for instance, promises monthly Zoom meetings on productivity (staffed by homeless people – “Just our contribution to making the world a better place…and they don’t demand dental benefits!” Walken allowed) and/or (the most indecisive of conjunctions) quarterly Zoom seminars on workplace wellness.
“We make these sessions as fact-free as possible,” Walken stated. “It’s an important element in making our customers feel like they are back at work in the real world!”
Hatrackian was intrigued by the Gold Plated Package, but didn’t believe she could afford it at this time. “Maybe if I work 36 hours a day,” she mused. “Yeah, yeah, then I could go for the Gold. And a good thing, too, because then I would need it!”