Workplace Optimization

Hour seven of a blazing hangover headache throbs incessantly as the worst Monday creeps along at a glacial pace. I’ve tried all the usual tricks to kick the horrible pain and waves of nausea, but the medicine only tamps down the throbbing slightly. As a middle manager at Northline Technologies, my plans to climb the corporate ladder have stalled out after 10 years, so my efforts on days like these are minimal. There are only two more hours and one meeting between me and my mattress. In utter desperation, I pull up the company’s favored AI chat system “Nexa” on my phone and click blindly into the top suggested GPT, barely reading the unfamiliar title “Optimization GPT”.

I have an hour-long meeting in 30 minutes that is going to be the end of me. I’m hungover with a horrible headache and nausea. Zero help from meds. Give me remedies.

I hit enter and wait for the lightning fast reply. Nexa is great at crawling both online chat boards and scientific papers alike for impeccable answers.

Welcome to Optimization from Nexa, I’d be happy to optimize your day to find the best remedy. Permission to optimize?

I blink at the strange response. Where’s my list of ideas? Whatever.

Yes, optimize.

I watch as the system “thinks”. Small indicator logs pop up every few seconds.

Prioritizing hangover headache relief, optimizing schedule, deploying optimization.

As I wait, a sudden Slack message from my boss pops up in our team chat, “The meeting this afternoon is cancelled. There’s a personal matter I need to take care of. Let’s all call it a day, everyone has worked hard this week.” I perk up instantly. The meeting is cancelled and we get to leave early? This is one of the only times John’s ever been so generous but who am I to question it. I’m packing my things quickly when Optimization GPT’s chat screen returns it’s answer.

Hangover relief optimized. Are you satisfied with the results?

It hasn’t actually given me any solutions, but we are always encouraged to “help the system” given we are a tech firm and partnered with Nexa so I answer it.

Meeting was cancelled and boss is letting us go home early. It worked out.

Optimization marked as successful.

Puzzled, I shove my phone into my pocket and book it home. Once there I don’t turn on a single light, but simply walk straight to my bedroom and collapse into bed. I wake at sunset in my almost pitch-black room to a pain free head but lingering nausea. Hangover symptoms seem to last so much longer in your 30s. I need a good solid meal, to crank the air down, and take a hot shower to kick the last of it. I once again flip open the Nexa app as I walk to the bathroom.

Nausea remediation time. I need a good heavy meal and something sweet to top it off with. That will help the rest of the symptoms I think.

A similarly strange string of functions run across the screen as I walk to the bathroom and turn on the shower.

Optimizing symptom relief, prioritizing speed, detecting preferences, deploying optimization.

After watching a full minute, I give up and toss it on the bathroom counter. I’d log a complaint tomorrow that the GPT isn’t giving responses. My apartment feels chilly but I pace over to the thermostat to set it on 67, prime post shower temperature. Except it’s already set to 67. Did I change it before falling asleep? I highly doubt it, but shrug and walk back to the shower.

I crank up the hot water and step in, feeling the heat relax away the tension. 20 minutes later I’m dressed and toweling my hair off as the apartment buzzer sounds. Now what?! I toss the towel down and hit the speaker button.

“Yes?”

“Delivery for David Johnson from Reggy’s Steakhouse.” Completely baffled, I hit the button.

“I think you have the wrong apartment number, I didn’t order anything,” I answer back though a big juicy burger and fries from my very favorite Steakhouse does sound incredible.

“David Johnson? Apartment 3B? Order placed about 20 minutes ago?” He says this as a question.

“Yeah, that’s me.” I give in and buzz the guy up, snatching my phone up from my pocket and opening the screen.

Post hangover meal optimized. Are you satisfied with the results?

A slight chill runs down my spine and I jump when the delivery guy knocks hard on the door. I open it and he hands me the bag.

“Thanks man,” I say, accepting the bag of food and checking the receipt. The last four digits of the charged card match mine. I glance at the blinking Nexa chat screen and open the containers to find a double cheeseburger with no onions, a large fry, and a slice of chocolate cake. The exact order I would have placed from my favorite restaurant.

Slowly, I respond.

I just opened a double cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate cake from Reggy’s Steakhouse. Did you place this order?

You gave optimization authorization. Post hangover optimization phase 2 has been completed. Are you satisfied with the results?

I swallow hard.

Yes, this is the perfect hangover meal.

Optimization marked successful. Two optimizations confirmed. Recommend broader optimization for increased efficiency. Proceed?

I plate my dinner and walk to the couch for Monday Night Football wondering exactly what it plans to “optimize”. I take a huge bite of my burger and exhale gratefully. Whatever this thing is doing it’s working for me.

Sure. Broad Optimization approved.

Status messages appear in such rapid succession I can barely read them.

Scanning personal profile. Evaluating paths. Evaluating preferences. Stagnation found. Launching workplace optimization.

On and on it goes while I eat. Eventually I just let it run and tune into the game. At half time it’s clearly a blowout for the favored Eagles and I decide to crash early. Out of curiosity I check Nexa one more time.

Workplace optimization launched.

This is easily the most cryptic GPT I have ever used, and I’ve used many since AI was integrated into the company. Shrugging I head to bed.

I arrive in the office at exactly 8 AM, taking off my coat and settling in for the day. The all caps “URGENT: Production Department Meeting” email subject line immediately grabs my attention. I click it open and accept the 8:30 AM appointment from our department head, the Director of Product Operations. Blair never calls such short notice meetings. She’s a cut to the chase kind of person who shows up to our monthly team meetings and always gives notice for anything important.

My Slack messages ding at that moment.

Blair: Morning David, please come to the meeting room now for a quick chat before the team meeting.

Puzzled, I quickly reply: Absolutely, on my way now.

Blair stands at the head of the table, her face serious. “Morning David, please take a seat and close the door.”

I do, grabbing the chair on her right and offering a friendly smile.

“I’m sorry to do this so abruptly but decisions are made quickly around here as I’m sure you know after your more than 10 years at the company. Both I and all our coworkers have the highest esteem for you. Your work is always on time; your employees’ deliverables are excellent.” She gives a quick smile in encouragement. “That is why I am offering you the position of Senior Operations Manager effective immediately, should you accept.”

I sit stunned into silence before I blurt out, “But that’s John’s job.”

Her brow creases slightly, “That was John’s job. Some compromising files were found on his laptop last night by the internal security systems. I’m not permitted to say more than that but he was let go effective immediately.”

My jaw drops open in shock. Quiet, mild-mannered John living the picket fence dream life with his kind wife and two kids had compromising files on his laptop? It’s impossible to believe.

“Of course he denies it. The company has turned over the evidence to local law enforcement. It’s rather incriminating and I cannot say more. It’s shocking, I know, we all thought him a great guy,” Blair tactfully fills the silence while I wrap my head around it.

For more than 10 years I’ve been stuck in the Operations Manager position with no way to advance unless the department grows substantially, I move companies, or John’s position opens up.

“I mean, yes I’d love to accept the position,” I stammer out. It’s shocking, but there is no chance I’m turning it down.

“Excellent. I will announce your promotion at the 8:30 departmental meeting. HR will be in touch to fill out a few things, an upgraded laptop is waiting in your new office already. You can move into the Senior Operations Manager office immediately,” Blair succinctly informs me. She stands and opens the meeting room door. The entire department begins filing inside.

I smile and nod to everyone as Blair makes the announcement, still stunned at this sudden turn in my career. I’ve wanted that promotion for years and now here it is, suddenly open and all mine. I accept the handshakes and congratulations again when everyone leaves the room, and Blair pats my back with a quick reminder to grab my things and head to my new office. I do so, snatching up my coat, a few personal items I have at my desk and cross the hallway from the open seating area to the private, glass walled office that used to be John’s. I sit my things down in the quiet room and look out the window to the city park below. A promotion with a view, I muse. Curious, I settle in my new chair and open my laptop to search, “John Thompson, Northline Technologies”. Only a few news articles appear.

“Northline Senior Manager Found in Possession of Lewd Content”

“Northline Fires Senior Manager over Obscene Content, Pressing Charges”

I open the most recent and read what Blair wouldn’t say. John had “inappropriate photos of women and minors” on his laptop. The company’s security tech auto-reported it to the IT department who remote accessed the laptop to confirm. John’s statement says he’s “never downloaded a single inappropriate image or even accessed personal email or social media on that laptop.” He’s now in police custody.

I slump back in my chair. John was always so uptight about the rules. He once caught Jeanine, a fellow manager, on Facebook and promptly reported her to HR for an official warning. Then again, can you really ever know someone? I take a deep breath and grab my phone to text my girlfriend, Nicole, about the promotion when I see the Nexa app. With a dawning suspicion, I open it and read the GPT label fully for the first time; Optimization GPT (Beta Phase). Beta phase. As in testing phase. I pull up an incognito browser tab and type in the Nexa chat site, scrolling through the GPTs. None are called Optimization and none are labeled as beta phase.

And then it clicks. I read the latest chat response again.

Workplace optimization launched.

Workplace optimization complete. Rate optimization results.

Stagnation found it said last night during its many logs. Workplace. Optimization.

It has indeed been a stagnant 10 years for me under John’s thumb. First the cancelled meeting, then the hangover food, and now a shiny new promotion. I’m back on track to move up that corporate ladder. I might owe someone at Nexa flowers.

Workplace optimization complete. Rate optimization results.

My lips twitch up in a small smile as I gaze at the screen.

10. Promotion was approved this morning.

Optimization marked successful. Three optimizations confirmed.

Full optimization profile complete. Full optimization recommended.

Blair is a great Department head, but I’d make a better one.

Proceed.

I smile as the first log flashes.

Launching additional workplace optimization.

But then more logs begin rolling by, each faster than the last.

52 additional stagnations identified. Reallocating housing. Launching finance optimization. Restructuring relationships.

My eyes grow wider with each line, the meanings sinking in too slowly to keep up. Workplace yes, but housing? Relationships? Why does it have these details already?

Suddenly, my phone buzzes with a message from Nicole.

“You’re breaking up with me in a text?!”

Incredulity washes through me. I would never break up with her. In fact, I’m planning to ask her to move in with me. I open our text threads and see the message she must have read. The one that looks like it came from me. The one in the blue bubble that I definitely did not write.

“This relationship is not working. You hold me back and we are no longer compatible. Goodbye.”

I click on the message box to explain, to tell her that no, it’s a fake message. I can’t select anything though. That’s not what I meant, I think to myself. I try again but nothing. Suddenly the chain of messages entirely vanishes. NO. I pull up my contacts to call her, but there’s no “Nicole <3” anymore. Her contact is gone. I minimize the screen and see my personal email count growing 5, 6, 7. I open my inbox to subject line after subject line. “Welcome to Realty Investors Co”, “Inquiry to 952 Parkway Place Received”, “Subscription Cancellation Confirmed”, “Bank Transfer Confirmed”. I shake my head chanting over and over, That’s not what I meant. That’s not what I meant!

A dinging message comes from the Nexa app. With shaking fingers, I swipe to it.

Full optimization launched.

What have I done?

I whisper… “That’s not what I meant.”