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she· verb
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09.03.03
Throughout the entire ordeal, I kept asking the same question. "Should I get my camera?" It started innocuously enough with one of my writers coming back from a butt-smoking break with word of a number of what looked to be unmarked police-type vehicles lining the front driveway of our campus. 10 of them to be exact. And a big bus marked SHERIFF in a font about the size of my arm (lengthwise, not widthwise, you comedian you). My first thought was, of course, perhaps some previously laid off employee of the House of Pain came back to exact their revenge with firearms and explosives and there's a hostage-type stand off going on RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND IN BUILDING ONE (1), thus firmly labeling me a true alarmist. I was wrong. It was just the FBI, the Department of Justice and the IRS paying us a visit. You know. The usual. By the time I heard about the federal vehicles, Building 1 had already been placed on lockdown and all employees inside ushered into a conference room. Within 20 minutes, internet access and the phone lines had been shut down across the entire company. I had been on the phone with Hula at the time when the phones went dead. Still uncertain as to what the heck was going on, I really did fear that someone had been killed, or that a credible bomb threat had been called in. I know that a lot of people were angry about the way the previous layoffs had happened, but couldn't imagine who or how something of this magnitude could be pulled off. Or why all of our communications to the outside world had been cut. Within 30 minutes, the entire campus was crawling with agents. Agents who were unwilling to give up information for anything. No amount of charm or humor worked on them. It appears that real live federal agents are of a steely sort--they neither smile nor joke with you. Nothing is fun or exciting or X-File-ish at all about a real FBI agent. They could have been bank tellers for all their personality on the job. And I kept asking people, "Should I get my camera?" None of my co-workers appreciated this idea and I just didn't get it. Why would you NOT want to take pictures of this? When does this sort of thing EVER HAPPEN? I mean, how often does your place of employment get raided by the Department of Justice, the FBI and the IRS all in the same day? Try never. NEVER has this happened to your place of employment. (Unless I've got an Enron reader. In that case, okay, YOU. This has happened to you. More power to ya. Regardless. Who would NOT want to photograph this? Apparently, everyone but me.) Within 40 minutes, an armed agent approached me, flipped his badge and said, "F.B.I." Just like that. "F.B.I." Nobody has ever said that to me and actually meant it. I was torn between giggling uncontrollably and getting a little turned on. I was told they had a search warrant and was asked to leave my office, not touching anything in the process. I obliged. With pleasure. Within 50 minutes, I was driving away thinking what the fsck just happened here? Will I ever come back to work? Has this place effectively just shut down forever? Did I somehow CAUSE THIS ENTIRE EVENT WITH MY WEBSITE? You know, because it's always about me. Let me lay it out for you. That other "wildly popular" website I've been working on? Its actually only a wildly dorky affair involving a fan site for a reality show contestant who happens to be a retired FBI agent (FBIGuy.com). That site has been receiving a large number of hits from fbi.gov IPs. Of course, I link from that site to this site in order to inflate my hits here (where it counts), but also where this entry occurs along with comments about mini Enrons and a soon to be appearance on fuckedcompany.com. And now, there really is an appearance on fuckedcompany.com (you'll have to look that one up on your own. I'm a'skeered of linkin'). Oh yes. I was nauseated and sweating as I drove home, thinking this was all my fault. Could I be an idiot of any larger magnitude? It all had nothing at all to do with me, as anyone with something approaching normal intelligence could deduce. But I did get a picture out of my car window as I drove away (see above). I snapped a few more, but they primarily consisted of my hair and hand. No agents, no guns, nothing cool to see. Not here.
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