The Corporate Jungle

Nothing gets past reader sparrow4captain, especially a guy dressed as a giant purple jaguar. Likely serial killers, half-wits mumbling to their own reflections in the window glass, entertainment executives shouting into space – and the Bluetooth devices at their ears -- he sees it all during his train ride to work in Burbank each day. What concerned him most about the jungle cat sighting wasn’t that a man would find a costume of garishly colored fur a suitable example of business-casual attire. After all, this was Los Angeles. No, what shocked him to no end was that none of the other riders even noticed.

“Next stop, Burbank,” announces the conductor. The words stir into life the air inside the musty rail car and set to shuffling toward the door scores of mindless drones. Like a stream of ants, the day laborers file out, heel to toe in perfect line, following one of several clear-cut paths to their workplaces.

Buses wait to accept the masses. They are massive, these cold caverns of steel. Yet each is quickly made cramped, as one worker after another pushes in.

            In the crowd, however, one stands out. His black ball cap, holding back greasy locks of unkempt hair, is not standard. Neither is his waist-to-floor length purple tail.

            Wait a second -- a tail? This is no ordinary drone. The ranks have been infiltrated. Who or what is this? Is he dangerous? What are his intentions?

            Surprisingly, no one takes notice of the outsider. He takes a spot in a crowded bus, bounces shoulder to shoulder with others for more than a few minutes, then it’s off everyone goes. One after another, the drones exit the vehicle, their routine the same: a mechanical voice announces the cross street, a string is pulled, a bell rings, the doors open.

So begins the last leg of the silent walk to the cubicles -- except for the foreigner. With what appears to be animal instinct, the stranger leaps from the vehicle to the sidewalk and weaves quickly through the line of office workers. Nudged awake, the day laborers grumble.

Then, as quickly as he appeared, the foreigner is gone.