A workplace satire. The characters and company are fictional.
My boss, Karen, believed in networking. At the conference, this began with professional introductions and continued long after the people wearing name badges had gone to bed.
During the day, she spoke impressively about transparency. In the evening, she asked me to be vague if anyone from home called. The company apparently valued clarity on a carefully selected schedule.
I had traveled to discuss a project, not become the supporting documentation for someone else’s private arrangements. Still, it was difficult to say that directly to the person who approved my expenses.
At breakfast, Karen described the previous evening as productive. I agreed that a considerable amount of activity appeared to have occurred. She missed the distinction, or generously chose to.
The hotel was excellent. The meetings were useful. The recurring request to help maintain two versions of the itinerary was less impressive. A five-star lobby can make many things look polished; it cannot do much for a weak explanation.
When she next asked me to confirm that we had been working late together, I said I would only describe the meetings I had attended. It was a short sentence, delivered with the calm of someone privately checking how much room remained on a return flight.
She did not appreciate it. She also stopped asking.
Back at the office, the trip was called a success. The presentation went well, the project continued, and I had acquired one useful professional skill: declining an assignment that was never part of my job.
