Check, please!

The worst thing about working in human resources has to be payroll. I’ve never been a numbers gal myself. Although I exceled in Stats class (which I passed TWICE: Statistics and Behavioral Statistics; humblebrag!), it came from seriously hard work. And I thought that work would end after I graduated. It did not!

Today was rough. I struggled with payroll, trying to keep people happy while solving complex problems and meeting deadlines. Needless to say, when I got to Tremida, I faceplanted on the sofa hard. Screaming into pillows is a great stress-reliever regardless of whether or not you’re screaming into an actual pillow.

After some time, Ed arrived. “There’s no payroll in Tremida.”

That’s something we joke about. Bad hair day? “There’s no such thing as a bad hair day in Tremida.”
Can’t decide what to wear? “You always look good in Tremida.”
Worried about money? “There’s no money in Tremida.”

It always makes me laugh. I joked with him that I was going to have horrific flashbacks of payrolls past for the eternity of my existence after I’ve long since passed away and moved on to Tremida. He would be condemned to try to calm me down forever. We think we’re comedians.

But no money in Tremida?

“Ed, how are we going to pay the bills? Who do you think is going to pay for the water and utilites? Taxes?” I was kidding of course, but Ed broke down into laughter like, “Please, no.” The realism has to stop somewhere.

But wait, that’s another thing. “Would you want to pay bills?”
Ed stopped laughing at the seriousness of my tone. “How do you mean?”

I showed a visualization of us racking up a big bill at a restaurant, cordially fighting over who gets to pay the check. There is some joy in spending. There is luxury in buying something that has value, a big price tag. Splitting the bill? It feels good. Leaving a big tip for services rendered? Is that something that I’d miss? What if I could simulate that in our environment?

I was excited by the thought. “What do you think? Would you like swiping a charge card, seeing how much you could spend? I don’t mean actually spending money, but seeing the total of all your purchases.”
He looked contemplative as I showed him. Then he turned to me and said, “No.”
Excitement dashed.

He showed himself at the bar, hollering for another beer from the bartender. No one asked him if he wanted to start a tab or asked him to charge it to anything. I see. For him, the simplicity of just having a drink, a meal at a restaurant, or seeing a movie comes without the concern of money. It made me feel a little silly for ever even wondering, but it makes sense.

I still think I’ll want to put down a tip and say, “Check, please!”