By the time this is published, I should be back from a lovely vacation… so what better poem to publish than one about job stress?
Not my own job stress, fortunately. I haven’t had to be on the phone with customers. But our Customer Service reps are daily reminded that our software directly contributes to the saving—or the ending—of many marriages.
(For the record, the photo on this post is stock. We take much better care of our employees than the popular but terrible open office floorplan.)
“What does this entry mean? What did he see?”
The woman’s voice resembled shattered glass.
“I thought we got through this. Thought he was free.”
“What did he say?” the young man calmly asked.
He pushed his headset tight against his ear.
“He claimed it was a popup, a mistake.”
Though she spoke softly, he could hear the fear.
“If he watched porn—I don’t think I can take—”
He sighed and gave instructions to request
More info to confirm or to deny
If porn had really, truly been accessed—
And wondered if that marriage would survive,
Or if they’d be divorced before next Fall—
He sighed again, and took another call.