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  We all look to the corner she’s pointing at. From the silence, I gather I’m not the only one who doesn’t recognise anyone.

  ‘Every room is kind of its own little world,’ says Percy.

  ‘Of three people?’ says Tammy hysterically. Is she on drugs that she’s this upbeat? ‘Awfully small world, if you ask me.’ She punches Percy playfully on the shoulder. He falls off his chair to the green, sticky carpet. ‘Oh my God,’ says Tammy. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Nothing to worry about,’ says Percy, helping himself back up. ‘You weren’t to know.’

  We all hear the boss say Tammy’s name across the pub. He still has the drinks. He sees us, but he doesn’t come over. That’s the way everyone wants it.

  ‘Gotta go,’ says Tammy. ‘See you all tomorrow.’

  ‘I hope she doesn’t have any problem meeting her quota,’ says Percy, watching the back of Tammy move away from us.

  ‘She won’t,’ says Maryam from Africa. ‘Probably get the quota raised, her.’

  ‘And you’re married, Perce,’ I say.

  ‘It doesn’t mean my eye is wandering if I hope that someone doesn’t get sent to the end of the hall,’ he says.

  ‘Never gonna happen,’ says Maryam, before downing the rest of her pint. It’s even more beautiful when she does it this time.

  9

  ‘I don’t mean to alarm you, madam,’ I say, ‘but it’s a fact that crime rates for Hove are through the roof this year.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘With our self-defence course, though, that fact doesn’t have to scare you.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘In fact, it’s not self-defence we’re selling. It’s peace of mind.’

  ‘You’ve said fact three times in a row.’

  ‘I believe in the product, madam.’

  ‘How much are you asking for it?’

  ‘Can you really put a price tag on peace of mind?’

  ‘You obviously have.’

  10

  Today Tammy’s nametag says ‘Tammy On Top.’ I hear her talking to a customer on the phone behind me.

  ‘Listen, Mrs Rosen,’ she says, ‘I got your phone number, didn’t I? Ex-directory is only a lie that keeps you from getting called by those too lazy to do further searching.’

  We’re given a list of phone numbers to call every day generated by some marketing firm somewhere. It isn’t supposed to have any ex-directory numbers on it. Mine doesn’t.

  ‘And if I can get it, think how much more information the malevolent criminal mind is going to find out about you, Mrs Rosen. You. He’s going to come after you, and he’s going to know a lot more about you than your phone number, I can tell you that. He’s going to know when you’re alone; when you’re in your nightgown; when you make your evening cup of tea and sit down to The Times crossword. He’s going to break into your house silently. He’s going to take your phone off the hook. He’s going to come up behind you, and then he’s going to silence you. But he’s not going to knock you out, Mrs Rosen. Oh, no, he’s got better ideas than that. He’s going to keep you awake, because before he robs you, he’s … well, I hesitate to even suggest. I’d hate to give you nightmares.’

  In less than another minute, she’s got Mrs Rosen, no doubt a widowed pensioner because that’s today’s target audience, to sign up for the top-of-the-line classes which include advanced jujitsu, proper use of a knife, and nighttime camouflage, all for more than what Mrs Rosen will spend on food in a year.

  Jesus dammit.

  11

  There’s a sheet up on the wall that lists our quotas for the week and our progress towards them. We each write our daily sales numbers in a box beside our name and underneath the day. Tammy’s only been here since Wednesday. It’s Friday morning. She’s already outsold Percy and is only three behind me. The second-to-last sale I made yesterday made me reach weekly quota. Percy has to sell four more to make it, no problem really, but none of us can believe that Tammy will probably make a full week’s quota without even needing to. Tammy is in a meeting with the boss. A new employee thing, we all assume, probably accompanied by many smiles and laughs if Tammy’s performance on the quota sheet is anything to go by.

  ‘It’s because she’s new,’ says Maryam from Africa.

  ‘Aye,’ I say.

  ‘All that enthusiasm for the product in the first couple of days,’ says Percy.

  ‘It’ll wear off,’ says Maryam.

  The company only gives Maryam from Africa the numbers of African women her own age, and her sales are so far beyond mine and Percy’s that her quota is higher. She passed it Wednesday morning, but she’ll only report passing it this afternoon. If they knew she’d passed it so easily, they’d raise it again, and it’s already twice the usual. She takes it easy the rest of the week, a sale here, a sale there. I’d do the same.

  Tammy appears suddenly, in the way that we’re already trying to get used to, and I notice that the three of us act like guilty children getting caught doing nothing. Her nametag says ‘Tammy Triumphant’. She still has that stupid smile on her face, but she seems distracted by something.

  ‘There’s some kind of disturbance at the end of the hall,’ she says. She walks to her seat, almost talking to herself. ‘The boss ended the meeting to go handle it.’ We realise she’s angry. ‘He wouldn’t let me come down and see.’ She puts on her headset, already dialling the number at the top of the list. Percy, Maryam and I look at one another. We listen for sounds from the end of the hall but hear nothing. Maryam reaches over from her seat to shut the door.

  Tammy’s phone picks up. ‘I know you’re alone, Mrs Wilson,’ she says.

  12

  Ten minutes later, the boss comes in.

  ‘Stay in your office,’ he says. His face is set, worried. ‘Don’t leave, no matter what you hear.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ says Percy.

  ‘Just stay here,’ he says. He looks over at Tammy. She holds his eye for a moment, then raises her eyebrows before looking back to her computer. The boss closes the door behind him. Percy looks at me.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he says again.

  ‘How should I know?’ I say.

  ‘Best to leave it,’ says Maryam from Africa.

  ‘What do you mean Best to leave it?’ Tammy says, spinning round to face us.

  Maryam’s posture straightens. It suddenly looks like she’s a whole lot bigger.

  ‘Exactly what I say, Little Madam,’ she says. ‘Best. To. Leave. It. Get back to work.’ She looks at Percy. ‘Some of us have quotas to meet.’ Percy turns back to his terminal and starts dialling the next number.

  ‘Aren’t any of you curious?’ says Tammy, looking at us, exasperated. ‘They tell you to avoid the end of the hall, and you just say, Fine by me?’

  I look at Maryam, who still has her eyes locked on Tammy. I look back at Tammy.

  ‘It’s not quite like that,’ I say.

  ‘Then what is it like?’ Tammy says. ‘What’s wrong with you? Don’t you want to know?’

  ‘Well,’ I say, ‘the reality of it is -’

  ‘Go look yourself if you’re so interested, Miss Missy,’ says Maryam.

  ‘Maryam!’ I say. Maryam looks at me.

  ‘The woman is not going to be satisfied until she has a look,’ Maryam says. ‘She is just gathering her courage. Well, I say leave us be with your courage-gathering and just go if you’re going to go.’

  Tammy takes off her headset. She stands. ‘All right then,’ she says, ‘I will.’

  ‘Tammy,’ I say, ‘I really wouldn’t.’

  ‘And yet you can’t, or won’t, tell me why,’ she says.

  Percy is also trying to mouth at Tammy not to go, but he’s on a call. It’s company policy that you never disconnect a call. Percy over-balances and hits the floor with a thud. ‘No, madam, I’m still here,’ he says, waving his hands at Tammy to stay put.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ Tammy says. She looks at each one of us in turn
, then opens the door and steps out.

  13

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t have let her go,’ says Percy, finally through with his call. It was successful, leaving just three to go to make quota.

  ‘There is no letting involved,’ says Maryam. ‘A person chooses their own actions. We chose to stay here. She chose to go.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have listened to us, Perce,’ I say.

  ‘I suppose not,’ he says. ‘But the end of the hall,’ he says to himself, shaking his head as he starts dialling again.

  14

  Through the still-open door, we hear a distant scuffling, then something that might be a muted voice or it could be the air conditioning malfunctioning like it often does, then a faint crash, followed by a few more crashes, then an uncomfortable high-pitched sound, which again could be the air conditioning.

  We all carry on with our calls. Maryam reaches out and closes the door.

  15

  Much later, the boss comes in. There is a cut across his cheek and a bandage peeking out from his shirt collar. He is walking with a limp, and there is a funny smell. Without saying a word, he walks over to Tammy’s table, folds up her jumper, puts it in her bag, picks it up and leaves. We watch him go. Percy looks at his watch.

  ‘Where did the day go?’ he says.

  We get ready to leave, and one by one we enter today’s sales numbers on the weekly quota sheet, first Maryam, then me, then Percy.

  It takes us a minute to realise we’ve had our best day ever.

  the way all trends do

  Nabbed!

  The Groomgrab1 Phenomenon at the Turn of the Millennium

  For fulfillment of the requirements of SOCI 917, ‘Methodologies, Dichotomies, Paradoxes, Iconographics, and Uncomfortable Shoes: The Millennial Nonsense and Why Everyone Made Such a Big Deal Out of It Instead of Pretending It Was Just Another Stupid Year, Which It Was.’ Professor Megan Woodhall/Sjoboen-Pimlico/Wren, Instructor, University of Western Los Angeles, Including Brentwood, Malibu, Santa Monica, and Scattered Portions of Ventura County

  November 30, 2015

  It seems to have begun the way all trends do, with whim meeting opportunity.

  The first groomgrab2, as they came to be known3, can be traced back to July 14, 1999 to an area of Los Angeles then known as Westwood. James Roddick, 28, gay, single, and Anton Marshall, 27, also gay, also single4, were driving home from a movie when they spotted seven-year-old Aaron Booher playing ball by himself on the sidewalk. ‘“Desultory” was the word that came to mind,’ Marshall is reported to have said. Some eleven weeks later, just when groomgrabs were on the upswing, Roddick and Marshall appeared on the Sally Jessy Raphael Show to describe that historic first occurrence.

  Roddick: [Booher] was just bouncing the ball, all by himself.

  Marshall: It was the saddest thing.

  Roddick: So Anton goes, ‘Poor kid, doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all.’

  Marshall: It was true, and you should have seen his clothes. I mean, who puts their kids outside in corduroy in July?

  Roddick: Or any month?

  Marshall: Really. Just because he’s seven doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice what he’s wearing.

  Roddick: Right. So I said, ‘Someone should just grab him and take him to the Gap.’

  Marshall: Re-do him top to bottom.

  Roddick: Buy him an ice cream cone or a Mrs Field’s.

  Marshall: Give him a nice time, in other words.

  Sally Jessy: And that’s when you -

  Roddick: That’s when we picked him up, yes.

  Sally Jessy: You ‘grabbed’ him.

  Marshall: Hence the name.

  Three and a half hours later, Marshall and Roddick dropped Booher back on the same sidewalk, dressed in a new tan, short-sleeve, sueded crewneck sweater; khaki walking shorts; and a pair of Timberland Kids sandals. He also carried bags filled with Gap Kids polo shirts, a Guess Kids belt, a stuffed Godzilla, and a Richard Scarry book on multiples of five5. Booher’s parents, Mr and Mrs Donald Booher, were unaware anything had happened until Aaron returned home. The police report includes the fact that Aaron repeatedly asked his mother, his father, the police officer, anyone he could find: ‘Can I go again tomorrow?’

  All arguments and counter-arguments to the practice of the ‘groomgrab’ begin here with little Aaron Booher’s question. ‘You see,’ say the grabbers, ‘Booher was never in danger and had a little fun injected into his life for the first time in ages.’ Anti-grabbers, with some merit, point out that seven year olds also often find activities like vomiting and bee-stomping fun, i.e.a seven year old is not exactly the best judge of what good, healthy entertainment is. However, the point of this paper is not to judge the action6, merely to map its movement across the country and see just how the country got swept away in this most peculiar of fads.

  Witness Marcy ‘Pebbles’ Morrison, youngest granddaughter of (then) 9th Circuit Court Judge Bosco Morrison7. The younger Morrison, in her seminal Take Your Hands Back On Me!8, the first real study of groomgrabbing as a cultural phenomenon, reports that ‘my own, personal groomgrabbing was the most exciting couple hours of my life to date. Nothing else has come close. I would trade the best sex I ever had for that time in my childhood. In a heartbeat. It was the first time any adult had treated me like a special little human, and for no reason, just because I was there.’

  Morrison goes overboard somewhat by calling her groomgrabbing an experience of feeling unconditional love9, but you can see her point. A research survey by the University of Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, Including Parts of Barbados and St Lucia conducted in 2003, roughly a year after the trend had died down, reported that the groomgrabbed children ‘overwhelmingly’ reported the grabbing as an unequivocally positive experience. Looking at the survey’s raw data, ‘overwhelming’ is actually an understatement for once. Fully 99.58 per cent answered ‘emphatically yes’ when asked if they considered their groomgrabbing to have been a good experience10. A smaller, more recent study of groomgrabbed children conducted by sociologist Zorah Blandershot-Fields at the University of Hawaii, Hilo, reported not only the same almost-impossibly-high satisfaction rate as the UMNHVIPBSL study11, but also showed scholastic achievement including SAT and AP scores miles and miles above the national average12. Naturally, in addition to the scientific studies, the anecdotal evidence is voluminous13.

  Some excerpts:

  Ronald Laramie, Butte, Montana: ‘I didn’t even think there were any gay people in Butte, so getting groomgrabbed never really entered my mind. As far as I know, I was the only one in the whole state to be grabbed14. My grabbers were this older couple who’d apparently driven all the way down 1–90 from Deer Lodge, which, my God, has like seven people so you can just imagine the kind of risk they were taking. I was ten, and they took me to one of those pizza-arcade places, Charlie Cheese or something15. They also bought me a boxed set of The Chronicles of Narnia and this great little black suit with an antique Golden Girls tie. It was a ton of fun, and I pretty much became a celebrity. They even asked me to be Grand Marshal of the Elk Parade, which is a big deal in Butte.’

  Jessica Mankiewicz, Encino, California: ‘It happened when I was seven, and I remember it was near Halloween. My two guys were Harry and Reed. Reed was Asian, and Harry had wavy red hair. It’s funny how clear it all still is. Anyway, they asked what I wanted to be for Halloween, so of course I say Spidergirl because that movie had just come out16. So what do these guys do? They take me to the studio to get outfitted! My guess is that one of them had to work at the studio, because otherwise how would we have gotten back there? But I got this kickass little Spidergirl suit made of the same rubber they used in the movie. It weighed like 35 pounds. I dragged and sweated my way through trick-or-treating, but how cool was I that year?’

  Savon Carmichael, Carson City, Nevada: ‘I remember that I’d been kicked out yet again from my group of so-called friends. See, I was a fat little kid, and unfortunately I wasn’t even that
funny which is pretty much the only thing that saves you if you’re a kid and you’re fat. Actually, my grabbers, who weren’t even black, said it’s pretty much the same thing with being gay. If you’re a sissy, you better fucking be funny, or you’re going to get your ass kicked. My grab was just the simplest thing, you know? They bought me a sweater and a watch which I still have, and I remember, of all things, this belt. This really nice entwined leather belt that didn’t have holes in it, you could just hook the little prong anywhere in the entwined leather. Do you get my meaning? It didn’t have holes in it. So I didn’t have to worry about making a new hole or being too fat for a hole. I could just wear it however. I can’t tell you how much something like that meant to me. I really believe that that little belt was a catalyst for everything I’ve achieved so far. Med school17, my beautiful wife, everything. I owe those two guys a lot.’

  Maggie Nakagama, Cadley, Georgia: “From what I’ve been told, I guess I was the first recognized fabgrab18. My couple didn’t buy me any clothes, which is what I guess happened on the groomgrabs. I remember I was playing by myself in my babysitter’s front yard, and these guys drove up and grabbed me. They left a Fendi19, and we drove to Six Flags Over Augusta. I just had the best time in the world. We spent hours there, hours, going on all these rides that my parents would never let me do, eating cotton candy, playing those parkway games. I mean, I threw up twice, but it was all in good fun. And you know, when I got back, the Fendi was still in the yard. No one had even noticed. My grabbers let me keep the flag so I could prove that it happened.’

  Hunter Poulsbo, Redding, California: ‘I guess I had kind of a weird grab. Mine took me to a mall and bought me a new outfit, but what I really wanted to do was figure out fractions. I was only nine, and I was having the damnedest time figuring them out. So when they asked me what I wanted to do next, I said, “Fractions.” And we spent the rest of the afternoon in a booth at McDonald’s doing fractions. I don’t think I would have ever cracked them if it hadn’t been for my grab.’