Office at Night Read Free

it is quite true that he once knew Stetly and was to some extent in his power. I feel quite certain that he will do the same thing with this second letter too.

 

     
    I do not light up the room. I am the secretary in this strange little office.
    The history of this office is complex, is a blur, is a puzzle, has been erased from the frame. Please know that I have been framed. At the time of this telling, my day begins at nine o’clock, and I am at my desk on time every morning. Promptness, neatness, orderliness—in the first few minutes of every day, I display the attributes of a very good secretary. This is due to my training, and reflects my commitment to our business achieving the highest success.
    Of course, the arrangement of supplies in my desk necessitates a quick check to be sure I have what I need to perform, and I keep on the desk only the supplies that I need for the day. I remove all the rest and place those items in the top drawer, which locks with a very small key I wear on my neck on a gold chain.
    With my place of business in order, I begin to organize the day for myself and for my employer, Mr. Chelikowsky,by referring to my invaluable calendar pad and typing up an hourly schedule. I record the names of people who have appointments during the day—these never are many, and mostly are none—and I also prepare memoranda and reminders for Mr. Chelikowsky, whom I always call Mr. C., though he has requested that I call him by his full name, so this is my one act of rebellion. I don’t mean to rebel, and in fact I am not rebelling, because my teachers at secretarial college always referred to employers by just an initial—Mr. B., Mr. Q., Mr. R., depending on which lesson we were on for that unit. I have explained this to him and that it is difficult to unlearn certain habits of administrative behavior.
    I place the schedule on Mr. C.’s desk before he arrives. Soon after, Marge Quinn, office stenographer and my coworker, arrives.
    Yes, I can easily clarify this distinction between a stenographer and a secretary. A stenographer takes dictation, transcribes, and types; she may also do billing and filing and operate machines like a duplicator, adding machine, etcetera. At times a stenographer may also operate the switchboard, but we don’t have a switchboard. We’re a small operation,but we don’t deal in small things. Either way, a secretary assumes much more responsibility than a stenographer and she contributes much more to the potential success of her employer—in this case Mr. C. I have worked with him long enough to know that he’ll be successful—that he and I will be successful—in this, our daily routine, which amounts to everything, just as each moonrise and sunrise is everything too, but I’m getting ahead of myself here. A secretary can’t get ahead of herself—not only is it impossible, practically speaking, but it is inadvisable.
    At the same time each day the morning mail is distributed, and sorting it is one of my responsibilities. I separate out the personal letters from the business correspondence—all of this is first opened in the mailroom, if a business has a mailroom. We don’t have a mailroom. Mailrooms are not the tradition in Hell’s Kitchen, and in our trade, we prefer direct delivery. And I should mention that of all my responsibilities, I take this separating out of the personal letters from the business correspondence most seriously, though I take all the work seriously.
    Office work is very serious business.
    When the office was established, I was there to arrange it: the desk needed to go next to the window, for one thing, that I knew. Mr. C.’s mother thought the desk should face the door—there were notes in Mr. C.’s desk to this effect. I filed them under “Chelikowsky, Mother.” She never liked me, but I liked her. Her perfume was amazing: Sumatra. Whispered romance . You wouldn’t expect it, was the thing, from someone like her. If a woman thinks there is