Best Company Ever, Chapter 2

Back on September 10th, I introduced the first of a sweeping set of changes when I take over the company a few years down the road. I realize in my efforts to achieve this end, I am going to have to do something of profitable value in order for the board of directors to realize my cost-savvy talent. We're a contracts company - all of our revenue is earned via performing engineering and scientific work for our customer, who more often than not, is the federal government. In order to do well in this business, a firm has to generate some sort of competitve advantage over its rivals, something that will distinguish SAIC from the other acronymonic (yep, made that one up) companies in the area. My solution: Bring the industry into the 21st century and refer to all projects not as contracts, but as contrax. It just fits with the current trend, where adding this spin to a product yields unlimited profitability and commercials with Method Man. So, like I said, SAIC will now deal in contrax.

Yeah, that'll hook 'em.

With that stroke of genius in the rear view, it's time that I unleash another round of innovative human dynamic strategy sessions on the world. Once H-Arr is up and running like a deck that needs no swabbing, I will turn to the energy source of the building: the cafeteria.

We are currently doing a recompete of the dining vendor who runs the Newton Cafe downstairs. Aramark has been here for three years, but things have gotten a little bland. The salad bar is on the decline, the sandwich special is all too often the same, and no one has yet touched the rice krispie treats for sale circa 1994. On a whole, Aramark isn't bad. But we need a change.

I vote for Hollywood stunt doubles.

If there's any way I can infuse some excitement to my employees' lunches, it's by hiring a group of people who have no fear to run my culinary services. Imagine the intensity! Imagine the adrenaline! Imagine the high-octane cole slaw! Anyways, I'd hire Keii Johnson as my head chef. Among his blockbuster stunts, he was also Bruce Willis' double in North. North! Now that's range. And when it comes to the role of head chef, I want this guy to be versatile so that the menu is varied. With Johnson at the helm, here's how I picture the lunch hour rush on any given Hun-gray.

"As I walked through the door of the Newton Cafe, something just wasn't right. I suspected foul play when a chilling, dry fog crossed by path, condensing on my loafers. Was this a sign of supernatural influence? Nay.

Someone had left the walk-in freezer wide open.

That was a little unnerving. Knowing that time was short and Joe is shorter, I hurried over to the salad bar to get my daily fixin's of veggies and sweet, sweet ranch dressing. Where the hell are the tongs? Oh, I see that the gentleman to my right's hand was clutching them for dear life. Life, unfortunately, had already escaped him, as he lay hunched over on the sneeze guard. So that's what that stupid glass shield is for, I thought. Ok, let's see - open freezer, deceased salad bar patron, should I be a little more caref-

Zoing-g-g-g-g.

The pizza cutter sailed by my left ear and stuck in the wall in front of me. Whirling around, it was no surprise to find the guy who works the pizza station, Kevin (aka "The Slicer") staring me down in a fit of rage. This is when lunch got interesting.

Lunging to my left to dive behind the bagel rack, I eluded his follow-up toss of frisbee-esque dough and retreated behind the buffet table.

"Hey, Kevin. Pick on someone your own size."

The sandwich station's attendant, Brock, had stepped out from behind the loaves of bread and stared down the Slicer. By the way, the Slicer hates being called Kevin.

As an intimidation technique, Kevin had reached his hand into his brick oven of Mayhem and now had one arm completely engulfed in flames. (This is easy for stunt doubles.) Brock, for no reason whatsoever, ran to the two-story dining area, climbed over the balcony and fell an entire story onto a poorly-constructed table. This apparently, was a duel of guys "who can do cool stuff without getting credit for it." Since the best I can do is spin a folding chair on my finger, I was no match for the cafeteria gods. I grabbed a salad out of the "To Go" case, threw a few bucks down near the awe-struck cashier (who, by the way, can take a bullet like it's going out of style) and went back up to my cubicle on 2."