KingCorto
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 16, 2021
- Posts
- 185
Roland squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to lock out the glaring flapping roar of the rotor blades. It sometimes worked, his experience had taught him, unlike listening or trying to converse with the clients seated on the cushioned benches at the far side of the cabin from Becca Valencia, or Becca V as she was called, given the amount of Rebeccas in the office, and himself. He looked over at her by his side. She was looking absentmindedly at the row of clients, then out through windows to the blue seas far below. Becca V was bored, as he was. Roland knew this because they’d been talking about it, many times. Becca V and Roland were team-building coaches for Vantages, a company that catered to rich and famous entrepreneurs and businesses, providing them a novel way to expand their culture, as the website bragged, a unique and unparalleled adventure to bring the individuals together in novel ways, giving new meaning and perspective of interpersonal business relations in the organization. It was all a lot of corporate blah-blah bullshit, and for two years now, the pair had taken groups to Vantages’ private tropical island, which contained a luxury resort, as well as several not-so-luxury locations around island, designed for team building challenges and efforts. It had all been very exciting in the beginning, but having seen all the types of attendants, and gone through all the tasks several tenfold times, it’d been reduced to chores, and waiting to be done.
Flipping on his iPad, Roland opened the assignment papers in the employee app. This afternoon was set off for checking in and getting organized, a meal, then retreat to individual quarters. As always, though, the evening came with a twist. The attendants were to be gathered on short notice and shipped in two groups to different tent sites in the hill behind the resort. Once there came a hard night of work, where they would have to relocate camp, and while doing so learn both how to pack all the equipment, locate the correct new camping site, then rebuild the tent and equipment as specified. From the program for the day, Roland flipped over to the attendant profiles. He looked over at them across the cabin. Some were trying to talk, others leant forward and looked out the windows, all looked enthusiastic and engaged. They had no idea what they had coming, which was a part of the point of the week, and like all groups there was an excess of excitement and anticipation hanging in the air.
In camp 1 were the guys: First it was Marc, the innovator and entrepreneur, the one who had had the idea in his basement, and that had run with it, turning the company to a billion-dollar business, and who was still leading it with a powerful vision, or so the profile said. Then there Dimitry, the creative developer, technical but visionary, it read, all the products of the company was solidified by Dimitry’s brilliance, Roland read, before flipping to the last of them; Arnold, who managed finance and investment. There was little text about Arnold, but a long list of previous engagements, that included some of the world’s biggest banks, and a comment that he liked to work out. He sure looked like it, too.
In camp 2 were the girls: One was Melissa. Creative director, it said, and her profile was very visual. There were schematics of products, websites and services, there were paintings and photos, all intertwined with short texts about her inspirations, coming from arts, food, nature, architecture, literature, and popular culture. Then there was Julia, the head of PR and marketing, who’d chosen to present herself in an Instagram-style manner, through a smartly edited set of posts showcasing herself as a diverse and interesting individual with many friends that visited exotic places and had interests like horse riding, swimming, and embroidery-art. The last of the girls was project manager Miranda. Her profile was a list, pure and simple, and while it seemed highly structured, Roland couldn’t make sense of what she was trying to tell him with it. Roland looked up from the screen and at Miranda, seated by the window, opposite from himself. Her head turned at the same time, and their eyes met. He smiled, she smiled, he gave her a nod, and she returned one, accompanied by two thumbs up.
Flipping back to the program for the day, then looked over at Becca V by his side, catching her attention, and pointing down to the iPad on his lap, to draw her eyes to it. Becca V nodded, and leant in looking down, so she could see what he was going to point out to her. With a tap of a finger on the activity text, which read ‘stress test; move camp at night’, he deleted it and brought up the keyboard to edit it. Instead of what had been there, he wrote ‘stay in camp overnight, learn to know each other intimately’, and he saved. Then he flipped up the camp member list for the two camps, selected Miranda, pulled her over the other camp, intersecting with Dimitri’s name, then let go. The two participants swapped cams, it was now Mark with Arnold and Miranda, and Melissa with Julia and Dimitry.
They’d been talking about this wild idea. It might cost them their jobs, they realized, but it was still very tempting. It was to ditch the program for one of the weeks, preferably in a week of even gender distribution of the group and make them go intimate between and among each other. They’d laughed when they’d talked about it, imagined how far the group would go, all believing it was all part of the program. This week could be the one, Roland was thinking. And now he was looking back at Becca V to see if she was in or out on the dare.
Flipping on his iPad, Roland opened the assignment papers in the employee app. This afternoon was set off for checking in and getting organized, a meal, then retreat to individual quarters. As always, though, the evening came with a twist. The attendants were to be gathered on short notice and shipped in two groups to different tent sites in the hill behind the resort. Once there came a hard night of work, where they would have to relocate camp, and while doing so learn both how to pack all the equipment, locate the correct new camping site, then rebuild the tent and equipment as specified. From the program for the day, Roland flipped over to the attendant profiles. He looked over at them across the cabin. Some were trying to talk, others leant forward and looked out the windows, all looked enthusiastic and engaged. They had no idea what they had coming, which was a part of the point of the week, and like all groups there was an excess of excitement and anticipation hanging in the air.
In camp 1 were the guys: First it was Marc, the innovator and entrepreneur, the one who had had the idea in his basement, and that had run with it, turning the company to a billion-dollar business, and who was still leading it with a powerful vision, or so the profile said. Then there Dimitry, the creative developer, technical but visionary, it read, all the products of the company was solidified by Dimitry’s brilliance, Roland read, before flipping to the last of them; Arnold, who managed finance and investment. There was little text about Arnold, but a long list of previous engagements, that included some of the world’s biggest banks, and a comment that he liked to work out. He sure looked like it, too.
In camp 2 were the girls: One was Melissa. Creative director, it said, and her profile was very visual. There were schematics of products, websites and services, there were paintings and photos, all intertwined with short texts about her inspirations, coming from arts, food, nature, architecture, literature, and popular culture. Then there was Julia, the head of PR and marketing, who’d chosen to present herself in an Instagram-style manner, through a smartly edited set of posts showcasing herself as a diverse and interesting individual with many friends that visited exotic places and had interests like horse riding, swimming, and embroidery-art. The last of the girls was project manager Miranda. Her profile was a list, pure and simple, and while it seemed highly structured, Roland couldn’t make sense of what she was trying to tell him with it. Roland looked up from the screen and at Miranda, seated by the window, opposite from himself. Her head turned at the same time, and their eyes met. He smiled, she smiled, he gave her a nod, and she returned one, accompanied by two thumbs up.
Flipping back to the program for the day, then looked over at Becca V by his side, catching her attention, and pointing down to the iPad on his lap, to draw her eyes to it. Becca V nodded, and leant in looking down, so she could see what he was going to point out to her. With a tap of a finger on the activity text, which read ‘stress test; move camp at night’, he deleted it and brought up the keyboard to edit it. Instead of what had been there, he wrote ‘stay in camp overnight, learn to know each other intimately’, and he saved. Then he flipped up the camp member list for the two camps, selected Miranda, pulled her over the other camp, intersecting with Dimitri’s name, then let go. The two participants swapped cams, it was now Mark with Arnold and Miranda, and Melissa with Julia and Dimitry.
They’d been talking about this wild idea. It might cost them their jobs, they realized, but it was still very tempting. It was to ditch the program for one of the weeks, preferably in a week of even gender distribution of the group and make them go intimate between and among each other. They’d laughed when they’d talked about it, imagined how far the group would go, all believing it was all part of the program. This week could be the one, Roland was thinking. And now he was looking back at Becca V to see if she was in or out on the dare.
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