===========================================================================
 BBS: The Cutting Edge!
Date: 11-08-95 (01:21)             Number: 485127
From: WIRED CHILD                  Refer#: NONE
  To: ** ALL **                     Recvd: NO  
Subj: The Good Chump                 Conf: (72) Nirvana
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===NOTE=====================
Since the subject of this remembrance tends to be on the litigious
side, let me state clearly and for the record that this work is based
in part on memory and on the hearsay evidence of others, and the reader
is urged to judge for his or herself the nature of this work. If
pressed in court, I'll call it fiction, so there.
============================

As many of you know, my first mini-career here in Little Rock was with
the Salvation Army.

I began as a database programmer (LITERALLY -- I wrote the damn thing
in Pascal -- this was pre-dBase, waaaaay pre-Access -- on a Tandy 1000
HX with two 3 1/2 floppies no hard drive and DOS 2.11 in ROM. If you
think programming a working dbase on THAT bad dog was bad, I started
with a TRS-80 Model 4...), moved laterally into substance abuse
counseling when I made the mistake of telling someone about my own life
experiences, and eventually bumped my way back down the ladder, pausing
briefly as a store manager in both Little Rock and Richmond (the reason
I moved to Richmond's name was Juanita Bearden. She later died. The
story's around here somewhere. Most of my ex-sig others don't wind up
dead, thankfully.) before leaving that corporation's caring arms
completely.

This was around 1987. I was 21, just out of college, just out of a haze
of far too much coke and crank (THAT story is around here somewhere as
well -- you know, you could piece together far too much of me on
here...) and eager to do wonders. I eventually nosed my way pretty high
up the hiearchy. I satirically assigned everyone military ranks in my
head -- paid employees such as myself were officers, clients (aka
slaves who weren't paid but worked 8 hours a day for the privilege of 3
meals, a bed, up to $20 a week in "grants" and a lot of preaching) were
enlisted men. I eventually made Colonel. To be any higher then that you
had to wear one of the funny uniforms. I did not wear a funny uniform.

My social life at the time was nonexistent. I logged on to a few BBSs
from my empty unfurnished apartment, and eventually ran my own, off of
a Commodore 128 and a lot of floppy drives that heated my apartment in
the winter. I learned that I enjoyed writing a great deal and worked to
be better at it. I was something of a legend in the nascent computer
community because (a) I ran a hugely successful BBS and (b) no one had
EVER met me in person and there were doubts that I actually existed. No
one had ever met me because I enjoyed not having to meet people. My
social nerves were still very tender. I had to deal with people at work
and that was QUITE enough. Dating anyone was of course RIGHT out of the
question. I was attracted to a few women at work but never let it get
past the fumm-fumm stage. Eventually I did end up with 'Nita, but that
was near the end of this tale. Basically this was the first time in my
life I was living life without crutches or parents or savage weirdness
of some sort and I kind of liked it. I was responsible, I was fairly
stable, and --- well, OK, I was a weird overgrown troll. But a NICE
troll.

To my coworkers I was a cipher. I made a point of not joining in with
the company hymns, and in fact even bought a nameplate that read
"Resident Heathen" for my desk in a rare fit of obvious square-peggery.
But other then that I was EERILY quiet. I did my job, I didn't say
much, I nodded when appropriate and frowned when called on to, and that
was that. I didn't play office politics, and I didn't sleep with the
boss's wife.

That was probably my first mistake.

The officers in charge of the ARC (Adult Rehabilitation Center -- you
know, all those people working down in Sorting and Packing are being
REHABILITATED!) were ordained ministers. All SA officers are -- it's
part of the training. And they encourage SA officers to be married and
usually make a point of marrying off the ones who aren't. In
retrospect, yes, this is kind of Sun Myung Moonish but it didn't strike
me as odd at the time. And, in retrospect, it doesn't strike me as odd
at all that one of those arranged marraiges would fail, and it doesn't
strike me as odd at all that the woman would seek to validate herself
by availing herself of the 100+ odd pool of available menfolk, most of
whom are dependent on her and her husband for their livelihood, place
of living, and general existence.

It should strike me as odd that the woman was an ordained minister and
doing this; sadly it does not.

Anyway it should be obvious that not only was I not one of the chosen,
I was completely oblivious to what was going on. I mean, she was a
minister, right? Only one I knew who did that was Tammy Faye Bakker,
and any woman with that bad a makeup sense is bound to be trouble
anyway. Such a possibility did not even occur to me. I worked, I went
home, I wrote weird things for my BBS. It was a good life. Or a good
half-life anyway.

At one point an apartment in the complex was made available, and I was
invited to move in along with a coworker. I took it because as I
mentioned, the most elegant furnishing in my place was a milk crate,
and this apartment was LAVISHLY decorated. The dining table was a
Duncan Phyfe job you would pay lots of credits for. Lots of bone china
lying about. Kinda made me homesick. (Of course, all this was donated
to the SA.)

A few years later, I found out I was given this apartment because
Boss's Wife had designs on my coworker and I made a good chump. And
gosh, I did. I was totally clueless. I thought she was up there all the
time because she had a thing for interior decoration and it was her
stuff, sort of. How right I was.

She asked (I was told later) the man point blank once if I was gay. No,
he replied. "Well, I never hear of him fucking anyone.", she replied.
(When this was retold to me, I made absolutely sure he was correct on
the wording. This wasn't exactly what I expected a woman who had
designs on getting a Christian record contract to sound like.) His
response was a vague "well he's not like that" sort of thing. In short,
I was living the way everyone was pretending to. Even if it was totally
accidental.

The husband, meanwhile, seemed to like me. I guess I was one of the few
people he was sure was not sleeping with his wife. Their kid was OK, if
a little on the wild side.

Eventually, the happy couple were transferred to Richmond in 1990.
Their replacement didn't see the need for a computerized inventory
system, which made me kind of replaceable. (I see now, of course, how
form follows function rather then the reverse... actually at this point
I was starting to see it then as well.)

I was transferred to manage the worst money-making store they had, a
tiny storefront deal in Jacksonville. There I met 'Nita, and my life
suddenly became much less work-related. I didn't pay attention to
corporate politics, and I was demoted from Colonel to Fired.

Shortly thereafter I left for Richmond, in large part because I had a
standing job offer there and also because 'Nita WASN'T there. There,
the wife's indiscretions had been indiscreet enough to be the subject
of public rumormongering. The husband announced from the pulpit one
Sunday that any speculation on that subject would result in immediate
termination, excommunication, and whatever else he could think up.

Around this time I had an attack of morals and left. Part of it was
because I was fed up with pretending to rehabilitate people when in
truth I was helping to exploit them. But, also, part was because I was
tired of being a good chump.

I still am, though.  I get reminded of it every so often. I'm in
another company, and while no one is sleeping with anyone that I know
of the same ritual dances go on and I heedlessly work on regardless.

My eyes are open more often now, though. I think that much changed.

Whether or not this is for the better only retrospect can say.

wC
um, i think i'm a 1st lieutenant now