I was working in marketing again, as I had for several years in real life. I was about the same age as well, early 40s, after retiring from the military.
Just returning from a long trade show, I went to my office and opened my cabinets to put things away. There I found that someone had been delivering food to me! Much of it were three by three inch cubes with Kanji on them. The wrappers were white, with either a red, green, or blue.
They totally mystified me. I questioned others, where did the food come from? Who brought them? No one could say.
I figured out through examination that the colors on the cubes represented fish, beef, or dairy. That amused me but needing my space, I began clearing them out.
Next I found bags of candy. Like WTF? Then cans of soup and containers of melted ice cream.
I couldn’t believe it. Why would someone put that in my cabinet?
A female co-worker came by and explained that the same thing had happened to her. It was part of some lunch program. We didn’t go in to get our food, so they delivered them to us. We weren’t there, so they put them away for us.
“But ice cream?” I protested. “That doesn’t make sense. Also, how much food do they think I need? There must be weeks worth.”
I was amused more than I was angry.
While I was cleaning, basically trying to do with this food, I kept getting summoned to meetings or interrupted by people coming by.
Two of the people who came by were CIA agents. Or so they said.
Male, dressed in suits, with ties. They wanted a favor.
Something was being installed. It was down on the ground floor, outside. They gave me a red and white placard. A white 5 was in the middle.
“Just put this on the cover of what they make. That’s all you need to do.”
Sure. Why not? Made no sense but did I care? Not really. I was too busy with other things to wonder about this strange venture.
Resuming my cleaning, I was almost done when two more men – white, in suits – stopped by. They identified themselves as part of the CIA. These two wore sunglasses.
I wondered, is this a joke?
One explained, “There is new construction being completed downstairs.”
The other held up a white thing. Basically resembled a white tent peg. “We want you to put this about a foot behind the construction, about a foot to the right. That’s all you need to do. We’ll do the rest.”
I repeated all that because it made no sense.
Then I asked, why are you asking me to do this?
“We’ve seen your records,” the first said, as if that explained everything.
I figured he meant my military records, and all those security clearances, and just accepted it.
Later, I did what the two pairs of agents asked. Privately, kind of secretly, ensuring no one was around to witness it.
Then I laughed as I walked away.
Dream end.
Michael Seidel, writer 