Sometimes
I Wonder Why I Bother
by Bethy
Season/Spoiler: Day 3
Timeline: shortly
before the beginning of Season Three, I'd say.
Rating: PG
Character: Chloe
Warnings: Just some bitching and moaning.
:)
Summary: Chloe works hard, but sometimes she needs
to vent.
Disclaimer: Fox owns Chloe and everyone else. I
don't own anyone. I don't believe in owning people,
that's just not right.
Warning: Major spoilers for S3, implied violence.
Author's Notes: Just a short little thing I
coughed up, since Chloe was whining in my head and needed
to rant.
I suppose not everyone
loves their job. I mean, those people at drive-through
windows always look completely miserable, and I can't say
I blame them since they're working for almost no money
and probably get very little appreciation.
Then again, the poor girl at Wendy's didn't go through
extensive schooling and training to be underappreciated
and overworked. I was an honors graduate, for God's sake!
Top of my class, and it was supposedly some great honor
to be selected to work at CTU. Only the best of the best
get jobs there, I was told. I was excited!
Boy, what false advertising that was. I mean, okay, there
are some qualified, hardworking people at CTU, don't get
me wrong. But there's a lot lacking in the
professionalism department. Tony and Michelle are both
great at their jobs, yes, but they're also married. Is
that really appropriate? This is sensitive work, I'm not
sure it's really a good idea to be working with your
husband or wife.
Of course, working with family or romantic interests is
like the CTU policy these days. Jack Bauer somehow got
his daughter a job (and I couldn't even begin to figure
out how he got that authorized-- the girl dropped out of
high school!) and she took it upon herself to carry on
the grand tradition of CTU office romance by taking up
with Chase. It's supposed to be this big secret, but come
on. I think Jack is the only person in this office who
hasn't noticed those two stealing away to corridors to
make out. That's right, they sneak away in the middle of
work to paw at each other. Your taxpayer dollars at work,
my friends. I almost feel left out, really. Maybe I
should see if Adam wants to-- Ha! No! If I want to be
horribly unprofessional, I'll just bring my Buffy DVDs to
work and curl up in one of the surveillance rooms with a
bowl of popcorn so I can enjoy Buffy and Angel on a big
plasma screen.
Not that I would actually do that, mind you. I don't
think it's really appropriate to be doing that sort of
thing at work. I'm just sayin'.
Honestly, though, if it ended with office romance and
nepotism, I would have no problem. But it doesn't. These
people have for some reason decided that a good way to
blow off work-related stress is to yell and bitch at
Chloe. Jack's the worst. I don't know what his trauma is,
but I swear he's not only on edge, he's dangling from it.
The guy is very good at his job, or so I'm told, so they
give him a lot of leeway, but really, it's not necessary
to bark and yell at me when I'm just trying to give him a
message. He's always sweating, too. I don't get that.
They keep this place pretty frigid, and there's Jack
sweating like he's just run a marathon. That's pretty
weird, if you ask me.
And then there's Gael. I swear, that guy gives me the
creeps. Can't explain it, really, he's just weird.
The district director isn't any better. Ryan F'n
Chappelle. I have never, in my entire life, met a man
with a worse case of Napolean syndrome. He's way too in
love with his own power, and also, so damn patronizing.
At least he's not dating anyone and he's never yelled at
me, I'll give him that. He is, however, ineffectual and
intrusive, and that's just not cool.
To be fair, this is a very important job we're doing, and
I can understand that people are stressed out. It's no
excuse, however. This is our national security we're
talking about! Life and death! If they can't learn to
leave their personal issues at home, they really
shouldn't be doing the job. Then again, I'm the one who
seems like a weirdo of the bunch. So maybe there's some
CTU training manual on "How To Get Laid and Get Your
Work Done At The Same Time" that they forgot to give
me when I was hired.
Now that I think about it, maybe the poor girl at the
Wendy's drive-through is better off than me. I seriously
doubt her manager is nearly as edgy-on-the-verge-of-insane
as Jack, and I'm sure when she was hired, she didn't *expect*
people to be the soul of professionalism.
It's not like the fate of the world is riding on that
spicy chicken sandwich.
THE
END
|