Running slow today. Just can’t seem to get going. I’m sure coffee will help once it gets brewed so while waiting, let’s jump into the writing prompts. Timers at the ready and off we go.
Interesting. I like the set up but will need to figure out more details if I decide to write it out. It would be nice to know what the contract was for. But as I didn’t expect this when I sat down to write the prompt, I can’t say I figured that out. But I like the social set up.
Tuesday, October 17th: It was a waiting game.
It was a waiting game. They put in their applications, filed all the permits and paperwork and now they waited to see who would get the contract. Usually this was when Kevin would admit to himself that the likelihood of him getting the contract in the first place were slim to none and then go off dealing with other projects as he waited for the inevitable rejection. This time was different.
Each time before he was rejected not because his paperwork was off or his estimates incorrect. He was rejected because he didn’t have the right connections. He was a social nobody from a family of nobodies. Contracts like this always went to the families of the social elites. The connections of the upper classes were reaffirmed and then when they proved unable to actually perform the work they subcontracted out to someone like him for a fraction of the sum they received for the contract.
This time was different. Or at least he was told it was supposed to be. Sweeping reforms were made, at least according to news interviews. Things were shaking up. This was his first bid for a project after the supposed reformation. Thus far those he knew claimed the reforms were nothing more than good press but that the old order held sway under new terminology.
This would be an interesting contract to watch, and one of the reasons he decided to submit his paperwork. He wanted to see for himself if things changed or if they were the same. It was extra interesting to him as he knew all of the others who applied and knew that he was the only one with the skills for the job. He knew that if the others got the contract, he would be the only one they could call to subcontract.
‘Except I won’t,’ he thought to himself.
At the moment, he found himself in an interesting position. He applied and if he got the contract he would complete it. But he wasn’t in a place where he had to complete it and he certainly could afford to say no to whoever came after him wanting him to work for the pennies they would offer him as a subcontractor.
A part of him wondered what would happen if the old way remained and there were no subcontractors to pick up the slack. If he didn’t get the contract, he would find out.
It was two in the afternoon when the letter arrived. Sent by an official courier, Kevin recognized the thin rejection letter before he even opened it. Still he went through the niceties, listening to the courier thank him for his efforts and informing him that he did not get the contract. The words and the tone made it sound like the courier was chastising him for trying to move above his station. Once the official message and unofficial put down were given, he took the letter and opened it. He was rejected but was encouraged to apply to be a subcontractor under the person who did receive the contract.
Knowing he wasn’t going to bother, Kevin filed the letter and decided to forget about it as he went about the other projects he had to complete. They weren’t as prestigious but they paid better than taking the offer of subcontractor and enabled him to refuse to apply with no feelings of guit from his inner accountant.
It took three days before another letter arrived. He accepted this one and filed it with the first before getting back to work. Four more days passed before he was again contacted, the messenger this time being told to wait for a reply.
Ten til Midnight 