Playing the Pyramids

It was in the year of somebody's Lord, 1998... or 9. Think it was 1999 actually. I was at my final year in high school (my last successfully completed level of education, no less), when somebody figured I should probably get a job. The reason I say somebody is, that I probably wouldn't have thought getting a job would be any more useful, than running really hard into a brick wall. At the time, spending money was easy, but earning money didn't seem to be a proper solution to the problem of always running out of cash. You may call me lazy. I'd like to say I was comfortable. But hey, extra cash is always welcome. The somebody mentioned above was very likely one or both of my parents. Or my girlfriend at the time who, with no intention of her own, had taken on a few too many responsibilities for things in my life, God bless her tiny cotton socks. So.. a job, none the less.

The internet was still young and at least to a degree pure. But jobsites had spawned, and I figured I'd give one of them a shot. So I filled in forms with CV and blah de blah. All the usual crap you need to do at jobsites. Finished that, and figured my part in the hunt for jobs was done. Afterall, how would I go about finding a job besides just asking random sites on the internet. In any case, I filled in the forms, and decided to wait it out. I had basically forgotten about it, when a guy writes me an email, asking me if I was still interested in a job. Happy that my effortless effort had paid off, I eagerly replied that I was, in fact, interested. He replied, telling me he'd pick me up on the upcoming wednesday, at 6pm. And that I should wear a suit. Now, please take a moment and consider the implications in this request. A job interview, at 6pm in a suit. Any normal person would probably think what the hell? Me? I just thought it was all fine and dandy. Wednesday in a suit. Fine with me. I didn't bother asking what it was about either. I don't know why. It just never occured to me.

Wednesday rolled around, and the guy showed up at 6pm, as promised, in a somewhat deranged car. I don't remember the brand. He's a dark skinned fellow. Not that it matters. I think, in hindsight, he was middle eastern of origin. But he had no accent at all, which leads me to believe he was either born here to middle eastern parents, or adopted. I didn't ask, because I didn't care. We got introduced, briefly, and was on our way. Now, I don't honestly remember the conversation that ensued in the car after our initial meeting. He might have explained briefly where we going. I just nodded and followed along. Didn't know quite where he was taking me, but it appeared that where we were driving was not out final destination. It turned out to be correct.

We drove to a train station in the suburbs. There, we parked, and exited the vehicle. I felt somewhat estranged and a little confused, but didn't say anything really. As I've made clear through the writings on this blog, I'm not generally a guy that speaks up when I'm in a situation where I'm confused a lot. I just usually wait things out, and hope for the best, then deal with problems along the way. It may seem careless and even stupid, but it's a habit for me. I'm trying to change it, but in all honesty, it's been like this all my life. It's a bypproduct of being shy or having social anxiety. I was suddenly among strangers. People I didn't know. And many of them. All of which were in suits or evening dresses for the girls, laughing and acting like they were a tightly knit group.

We were going on a bus, apparently. My 'friend' didn't seem that close with the rest either. And I am not the chatty conversationalist, so when we got on the bus, it was mostly in silence. We just kind of sat down next to each other, while a bunch of people were laughing and whooping behind us. I had no idea still what was going on. Sat there in a standard bus, in my suit, and looked out at the dark sky. It was January, afterall, and it had been snowing fairly heavily for the past few days, but was clear tonight. Cold, with snow on the ground, but a clear night. The bus started driving, and I wondered briefly, where exactly we were going. My mind was slowly starting to grasp exactly what I had gotten myself into this time. Not sensing danger or anything like that, but just a situation that was going to get embarassing, and a situation I'd have to get myself out of somehow.

Slowly, the suburbian houses we departed from, got fewer and fewer as got drove further and further away from the city. I've always been fond of the city. May seem oxymoronic, since I don't particularly like a lot of people. But the advantage of the city is, it's easier to be anonymous. Something I've always prized. Slowly the city turned into the countryside, with fields of snow stretching as far as the darkness and lack of streetlights would allow me to see. City signs pointing the other way kept adding miles between me and home. I wasn't worried. More like a little annoyed and confused. My partner in crime, Mr. Darky, sat silently to my right. He was just staring ahead of himself, basically. I tried to ignore the noise from the back. People were getting riled up about something, something I did not share with them, and I had no idea what. Lots of them were young and seemed extremely fancy. Not fancy in the positive way, but fancy in the wannabe way. Designer glasses and suits that more and more told me they were trying to be jetset and smartass, than they really were. Pastywhite colgate smiles and sunbed tanned skin, with greased hairdos. Not my kind of people.

Time passed, and finally, after about 50 minutes of driving, the bus came to a halt. I was both relieved, and worried. At least we could get off the bus, and do something else. But getting off the bus meant more people, and perhaps having to interact with some of them. Rough goings. But what choice did I have? I got off. My buddy went off with me. We spoke only briefly. The happy gang from the back was getting off the bus in the same loud manner as they had gotten on. If I had been anywhere else, I'd've thought it was the annual christmas party with school or a job. Not a 'job interview'. Out destination for the evening was a small house in the middle of nowhere. It belonged to whatever town or village was nearby, and acted as a common house, kind of thing. Most towns have them. A place where everybody can arrange and rent room for events. Apparently, this outfit had rented it for the night, to conduct their introduction seminar kind of deal.

After getting off the bus, we loafed about outside this house for a bit, while people were walking about chatting and going in and out of the house. I just stood around, and waited for further instructions. A guy, who wasn't on the bus with us, was making loud conversation to various people, smiling a broad used car salesman smile, and double hand-shaking people. Clearly, this guy was a guy of importance among these people, as the colgate crew were laughing extra hard at his jokes, and smiling even wider when he spoke. I observed as much as I could, without seeming suspicious. Nobody came up to me, to laugh or greet or smile. The used car salesman was opening the door of his car, and showing off a television he had installed in his car. Everybody was all oohs and aahs, eyes gleaming with pretend admiration and envy. Keep in mind, this was the last 90s. A television in a car wasn't as commonplace as it is today. He smiled out at everybody, and for a moment the only thing I could see inside the car, was teeth.

Finally, we went inside. Drab and dull, the inside wasn't much different from the outside. Main difference was the lack of snow, the presence of chairs and a few plus degrees of heat. We all filed in, and sat down, people as loud as tradition would bid them. Talking and laughing. We were offered a bit of food, and were able to buy a drink. My new friend graciously offered to purchase me a drink. I believe I got a Fanta. I had zero cash on me. Time passed by, while we ate and drank the sparingly distributed food. The neighboring room to where we sat, was closed off, and once in a while, a guy emmerged and informed us, that there were technical difficulties, which meant it was postponed a little longer. Around me people were still chatting boisterously, although to this day, I've no idea what they kept the conversation alive with. Folders were passed around, containing houses in Switzerland. My friend told me some incoherent babble about these being the houses the company sold timeshares in. It was very abstract what exactly was going on. At this point, he could have told me the company sold and manufactured sewing needles, and I'd've thought yeah ok, why the hell not. People were making a good deal out of showing off the stuff their money could by. Cell phones, fancy gadgets, sunglasses etc. etc. I didn't participate.

It was slowly approaching 10pm at this time. 4 hours had passed since my pickup, and still, not a single relevant thing had happened. I was majorly bored, and felt uneasy because I'd gone 4 hours without speaking to anybody, but a few words, and I didn't feel comfortable around all these people, with the weird way they were behaving. Once in a while people went outside to smoke, and I could hear them talk loudly about cars. The moment everybody was waiting for, was holding out on us, and from time to time, we heard a few seconds of loud music play. It wasn't until somewhere near 11pm, that the doors finally opened, and a guy, very much alike Mr Used Car Salesman (only with dark hair instead of blond), told us, that he was sorry for the delay, but that we should all step inside now, and have a seat.

Well at least something happened. I filed in, along with everybody else, and was, against my usual style, seated on the front row, with my friend. Not a good position for me, but I digressed. Didn't have a choice. The room was largish, with about 24 seats on each side of the isle. Seated with our fronts turned against a podium, I noticed another bald darkskinned guy on the right side of the isle (already seated when we got in), and a huge bald dude in a tuxedo, standing near a door at the far end of the room. When I say huge, I mean HUGE. He was massive. Reminded me of the Kingpin from the Spider-Man comics. Mostly, he was wide. Bodybuilder for sure. Looked like the kind of guy that makes people disappear without a trace, at the snap of a finger. Slowly, but surely, the seats were filled, and the show started. And boy, was it a show.

When I told the story in the days after, I usually said of this show, that it was actually pretty fun and pretty cool. They started with the intro from A Space Odyssey 2001, a track I believe to be Also Spracht Zarathustra, only with a hefty technobeat added to it. Dunno what Strauss would've said, but it was engrossing. Even I, a notorious disbeliever and pessimist, started forgetting the weird circumstances, and got into the show. Of course, everytime the showman, Mr Carseller, made a smashing statement, or a joke, the colgate brigade cheered or laughed extra hard. They were getting things more enthusiastically than called for, but I guess it worked. Everybody seemed to be smiling and enjoying themselves somewhat. The gloomy mood that could've been traced earlier on, by having to wait, was lifted. It was all fun and games. Two terms on stage, by our host, had gotten people riled up. Two terms that revealed as much to us about the company's agenda, as a post-it note could have done. We were none the wiser as to what was going on. It was time to lay down the smack, and tell people why this evening could potentially cost them a lot of money. But Mr. Salesman wouldn't be doing this himself. No, his right hand man, would get the honor.

Third leg of the show was the serious talk. The time where we were all bared to the atrocities that is Pyramid Play. Right Hand guy went on stage, and started his own personal show. He wrapped up the bad parts as well as he could, and tried bracing people from what exactly the prospect of forking out a lot of money with virtually no guarantee of getting anything back would mean. It was packaged in a "you'll make X times your initial investment in no time" deal. And I believe some sort of scheme was proposed where one could technically be selling an actual thing. But mostly, it was just about getting people to sign up and pay the cash in a hurry. When the first 10 or so had signed up and paid, you'd start making lots of cash. Basically a get people to sign up or you'll lose all your money, kind of thing. When he mentioned the amount, I really felt uneasy. That's where things suddenly stepped into perspective, and I understood just how far out I really was. My smile went stiff, and only stayed on my face in order to maintain facade. I instantly became aware of everybody around me, and felt out of place. Totally estranged. Right Hand dude finished his show, and we all went out into the foyer again, and sat down. It was 1 in the morning.

They obviously knew just how much 28k was to a layman, otherwise they wouldn't have wrapped it up like they did. And as if that wasn't enough, the 10 new people (this was the first time I became aware of the fact, that I wasn't the only one this show was being held for) came into the main hall, without their new 'friends' (I imagine many of them were there with actual friends, and not just some random dude from the internet. But real friends, who thought it'd be good to bring them into debt for nothing). Car Salesman was there, at a long table. It was time for an informal talk. He gathered us around him, and we all sat down. He was one of us. He knew what it was like. It was rough out there. But he could make it stop. Make us rich. All we had to do, was make a small investment. Easy as that. 28k! It was just a number. He could even talk to our parents and our banks. It was no problem. No problem at all. Everybody sat there. I didn't notice the rest of the group. Their reactions. I just thought no no. Not good. I wanted out. Knew this would be a one way ticket to a really sticky situation. He finished his little pep talk, and we got into the foyer again.

I sad there, with all the rest, amidst murmurs and muffled talking. People were conferring on a more quiet level now, than earlier on. I don't know what they were talking about. I stood up, and went for a stretch. Walked outside, and felt the eyes of Kingpin follow me around. He stood in the front hall, without purpose. Just stood around. He didn't look directly at me, but I felt he was aware of me and where I went. I felt the sudden sting of fear. I don't know what it was a fear of. On a rational level, I felt fairly certain nothing would be done in terms of physical pain. But on an irrational level, I had all kinds of scary scenarios set up. Beatings, knee caps cracked, slappings, threats.. ultimately death. I wasn't prepared to go down without a fight, but clearly, despite my own large frame, that kingpin dude could wrap me around a streetlight with a bat of his eyelids. Outside, the air was getting all the more chilly. January at 1:30 in the am. The little light I had noticed earlier on still shone in the distance. For a brief moment, I imagined myself running through the field, towards it, a group of angry pyramid dudes in pursuit.

The doors to the main hall opened, and we were all welcomed inside. It was time for the moment of action, I guess. I had no choice, really, but to go in with the rest, and sit down. The music started, and people were all cheers and smiles again. I tried to get into it, but the churning feeling in my stomach said otherwise. So I kept my mask up, and played along. Clipboards were handed out to the 10 'guides', and were then directed at is. It had a piece of paper on it, with a line at the bottom, for a signature. The temperature in my heart dropped a few degrees. I knew, that I would not be signing that piece of paper, unless under some pretty serious conditions. My employer friend was looking at me, and he sort of assumed I would just grab it and sign. Around me, people were shuffling and then the first person signed. I know this because when somebody signs, their 'salesman' shouts 'SALESMAN WITH SUCCESS!" and the music starts blasting and people cheer. As the clipboard was shoved my way, backed by a pair of expectant begging doggy eyes, I heard one after the other shout Salesman with success! People were signing the paper all around me, and everytime one did, I felt a little smaller, a little more alone, and a little more helpless.

I told my salesman, that I wouldn't sign it. It wasn't for me. He looked disappointed and looked like he estimated just how much pressure he would be able to add to get me to sign. Afterall, me not signing was basically money slipping between his fingers. I felt more and more uneasy, as the tension in the situation stood out more and more, and one after another of my fellow newbies converted around me. I forgot if my salesman got up and spoke to the others, or if someone sensed that I wasn't playing ball, but either way, the darkskinned bald dude, along with a sidekick, came over to me, kneeled in front of me, put a hand on my knee, and looked at me grimly. "Why won't you sign the paper" the dark skinned guy asked me, in a "it would probably be better for yourself if you just signed it" tone. His face was stern, and I met his eyes, trying not to show my fear or uneasiness. I told him, what I had told my salesman. It wasn't my kind of thing. I wouldn't be able to sign it, because it was not something I could get behind. A few minutes passed, where the darkie tried to convince me, but to no avail. To this day, I don't quite know where I got the inner strength to withstand what appeared to be possible physical pain. But I did. I guess the idea of having to pay some fucktard 28k for virtually nothing but a sucky evening out, just didn't appeal to me.

Finally, the kneeling guy got up, and went back to his seat. I felt a little easier, but still aware of the fact, that I wasn't home free yet. They coul still discuss what kind of bodily harm they would apply to get my signature. I guess I was the last piece missing, because shortly after, we went back into the foyer and sat down. People were still talking sort of muffled, and I had a sneaking suspicion my denial to sign the papers were making its rounds in the rumor mill. Felt eyes seek me out, and linger on me, but tried to ignore it. I sort of faintly apologized to my salesman for having wasted his time dragging me out there. I didn't quite consider, at the time, that he should have apologized to me for wasting my time. But then and there I felt like I had disappointed him, which I'm sure I had. But not really due to any fault of my own. I just really wanted to get home asap. It was like 3am at this time. I went outside again.

My mind was racing faster than before, in the cool air. The Kingpin was still loitering in the lobby area, and watched over me as I left. A few others were outside, smoking and talking merrily. "Sure, you can laugh, you're not the ones getting manhandled in a minute, for your signatures" I thought, bitterly, as I turned my back to them, and tried to search out the only redeeming source of energy I had left. The little light in the distance, I had spotted earlier. I couldn't see it anymore. Bummer. Alone in the world, with a bunch of maniacs with money on their minds. Surely some of the others would try to stop it from happening, I assured myself. But that theory was immediately shot down. Who even noticed me in the crowd. Which one of them would notice me lacking on the trip home in the bus. Who, but my salesman, would ever know how or where. Nobody, that's who. It wasn't a nice thought. But it filled a lot of space inside my mind. Went back inside, hoping for the best, meeting my fate head on.

Apparently, it was about time to call it a night. 03:45 was the time on my watch, when we scurried towards the bus. I wanted to just bolt into it, but I contained myself. Act natural, I thought. We went in, and my salesman and I sad next to each other again. The colgate crew was in the back, merry and joyful as ever. I didn't speak the entire way back to my salesman's car. He informed me, when we got there, that he would take another girl home as well as me. I said that was ok. Whatever had to be done to get me home. I got in the back of his worn out old ride, and she got into the front seat. They talked a little while we drove, while I didn't say anything. After dropping her off, we headed towards my home. As the streets became more and more familiar, I loosened up a bit, and started feeling more relaxed. Looked like I made it through the night alive. Surprised and relieved, I opened the door when we came to a standstill, thanked the guy for the ride, and apologized for the lack of signature once again. He waved it off, like it was an old friend asking to return a small favor. Not until I was in my room, door locked behind me, did I breathe freely for the first time. It was weird. Home and safe, after 12 hours of weirdness. It was 5am. I went to sleep.

Got up at 7 and went to school. My girlfriend came to school as well, and she noticed I had a weird look on my face straight away. I told her, and later everybody else who asked, about the night, and people were shocked, to say the least. Even just 4-5 hours later, the events of the night seemed totally surrealistic and unreal. It wasn't totally far out, but for a really standard guy such as myself, who hadn't done a whole lot to get into the situation (perhaps that was the problem), it was just totally far out. I won't say there were aftershocks or any other side effects. As soon as I was home, it pretty much became an amusing anecdote, so not like I was terminally scared afterwards. But I did count it amongst the few times where I have been genuinely afraid of what could happen.

A few weeks later, somebody showed me a small notice in a newspaper, regarding the Used Car Salesman guy and his company being tax evaders and Pyramid Players. It was but a small notice, and I didn't see anything else about the case later on. Just thought it funny that he was mentioned so soon after I was involved with him and his crew. All in all, I can only pad myself on the back for not signing that damn paper. And feel bad for the 9 other morons who did.