Senior Manager Lee Tae-bong and Manager Hwang Jae-ik came back into the karaoke room after their smoke. Noticing the company president was absent, Hwang asked the branch manager:
“Shall we head somewhere for round three? Or call it a night?”
It was past eleven thirty. Branch Manager Ma Seong-geon picked up a piece of fruit with his fingers and chewed it, looking toward the door the president had left through.
“Let's wrap up round two here and move on to round three.”
Officer Bu Ha-yun went over to Manager Hong Hui-gyeong and cautiously asked if she was all right. I could hear Hong's answer.
“Do I look all right? Are you that clueless? Shut up.”
All the officers were told to skip round three, as were the women, Manager Hong and Senior Manager Gu Ji-hye. From what I overheard Hwang and Deputy Branch Manager Kim Jong-do saying, the third stop was a bar full of scantily clad women. All my drunken brain could think about was where I'd parked my car. At last, freedom. Even the air tasted sweet when I emerged from the basement karaoke place. The staff bowed themselves double to everyone heading off for round three. Sir! See you next time! Sir! Please visit our branch often! Get home safely! We'll be going now!
I'd finally escaped, yet my mind was in turmoil. After being trapped with musty dust, blaring music, the smells of alcohol, stomach acid, cigarettes, bad breath, and rotten people, the cold winter air felt wonderful, even as it threatened to freeze my lungs. Living inside a dump, you stopped noticing the stench. It would probably be past midnight by the time I reached the residence. How many hours of sleep could I get after washing up?
I called a designated-driver service. The staff split between Manager Hong's car and mine. Senior Manager Gu and Officer Kim Jin-ju got into Hong's car; Officer Bu and Ji Geon-u got into mine. I asked Bu if she'd be better off joining the other women in Hong's car, but she quietly asked me a question in return.
“Can't I go in your car?”
“Of course. It's just that we'll get back later because I have to drop Geon-u off.”
“I don't mind getting back late.”
“Okay. Let's get back late, then.”
When the first driver arrived, I sent Manager Hong's car off first. The service called to apologize and say mine would be about twenty minutes late. I told them that was fine; I'd wait. Since Bu Ha-yun and Ji Geon-u were younger, I dropped the formalities with them.
“Did you drink a lot? How are you both feeling?”
“I'm okay.”
“Me too. What time is it?”
“Twenty to midnight. What happened to your phone?”
A large crack ran across Bu's screen. Apparently she'd broken it while rolling around on the floor trying to escape that perverted company president. She gave an awkward smile. [Sondeul Coffee] and [Giga Coffee] were still open even though it was past eleven thirty. Their employees must be stuck at work too.
Since we had time before the driver came, I suggested getting something to drink and sober up. Both agreed and followed me. The ink on their diplomas was barely dry, and their faces lit up at the offer of a drink. One was twenty-four, the other twenty-three. At twenty-seven, I thought they both looked like kids.
Almost out of habit, Bu said she'd have an iced Americano when I offered to buy.
“Just order what you want. There are only three of us, so get the most expensive thing. Then I can get something expensive too.”
I suspected she'd chosen an iced Americano because it was cheapest. At my urging, she hesitated, then ordered honey citron tea. I'd been thinking of something iced myself, but hot honey citron tea sounded good. Geon-u ordered the same. Three office workers, drunk on alcohol and misery, waited for our driver with a cup of honey citron tea apiece.
We barely spoke. We were all exhausted and wanted quiet rest more than another word. Sitting in the car, I had drunk about half my hot tea when Bu spoke.
“About the karaoke place.”
“Yeah?”
“What if that keeps happening? What if they keep making us go?”
“Yeah. What do we do?”
That was my answer, but the words sexual harassment report kept swirling through my head. If I filed a report without evidence, though, I was probably the one who'd end up ruined. Even with solid evidence, the higher-ups would cover it up. Nobody would take my side. I submit the DNA on this shirt, which I wore while forcibly hugging the company president, as evidence! ......Wait. Why are you arresting me? My imagination had moved on to dunking our supervisors' heads in a pot of boiling citron tea when Bu's despondent voice brought me back.
“Am I the only one who thinks what happened today was wrong?”
“......No. I think it was wrong too.”
Clutching my hot tea, I scraped together what little courage I had and agreed with her. I could only voice my opinions freely when no supervisors were around. I was a coward. Holding her cup in both hands, Bu said:
“When I get back to the residence after work, I'm with people from work all over again. Senior Manager Gu, Manager Hong, and Officer Kim take turns washing up, and it's past one thirty before I get to. Is it like that for you too?”
If they washed in order of seniority, why did Kim Jin-ju go before Bu Ha-yun? Had they agreed on something?
“The men at our place hardly wash, so it's not that bad.”
They both laughed. Geon-u smiled over his citron tea and said:
“I thought my internship was too short, but now I'm glad. I only have to put up with this for three months.”
He was on a three-month internship at Goldlight Bank. Most branches sent their interns home promptly before six. Hwapyeong certainly had. Here at Taecheon, they worked the intern until eleven thirty at night. I'd joined the bank directly, without an internship. Would I have joined if I'd learned during an internship what a bank was really like? ......Who knew. The pay was pretty good. I might have stayed anyway.
“Lucky you, Geon-u. Do you still want to work at Goldlight Bank after all this?”
“I don't know. I'm thinking about it. Banks do pay well, though.”
Goldlight Bank paid fairly high salaries even among commercial banks. Looking around as I drank my tea, I noticed the round letter at the bottom of the Korean word for karaoke room on the sign had been turned into a big heart. I thought of Kim Jin-ju trying to hide behind Bu Ha-yun, and Manager Hong glaring at her and telling her to shut up. She had to live with both of them after work, too. Our driver arrived a little later and apologized for being late. I assured him it was absolutely fine and got into the car.
One of the bank's benefits was housing for employees transferred to distant branches. I didn't know about other banks, but Goldlight leased two four-bedroom apartments with lump-sum deposits, put the men in one and the women in the other, and left us to survive. Send headquarters the lease, and they'd transfer the deposit. We paid the monthly maintenance fees to Manager Song Byeong-jun, who handled general administration, and he took care of the rest.
The men's apartment was on the sixth floor; the women's was on the tenth floor of the same building. Our apartment had four bedrooms and two bathrooms. If the layout was the same, the women would have two bathrooms too. My younger sister never seemed to come out once she went in to wash. I imagined getting ready before and after work must be a battle in the women's residence.
We dropped Geon-u off at home, then headed to the residence. I parted with Bu in the elevator. When I punched in the code and went inside, pitch darkness greeted me. Nobody was home. I turned on the lights and washed first. Before Senior Manager Lee could sidle up and say something like, Officer Eun, the trash can's full, I gathered all the rubbish in the apartment and took it out. I was also the one who collected 20,000 won from each resident once a month to restock toilet paper and garbage bags.
None of the other men cleaned. Dust didn't merely roll across the floor; it piled up so thickly that our socks left tracks across the living room. Still nobody cleaned. I vacuumed with a machine so old I couldn't guess when it had been bought, then aired the place out. Was I the only one who couldn't stand filth?
Judging by his bathroom use, Senior Manager Lee seemed to wash about once every four days. I wasn't sure he even brushed his teeth once a day. Manager Hwang did seem to wash daily. I knew because my bedroom was right beside the bathroom, and I could hear all the water through the wall. The deputy branch manager seemed to use the bathroom attached to his bedroom. I had no particular desire to know whether he washed.
I had no burning desire to clean the communal areas all by myself while nobody else bothered. But if I didn't, I was the one who had to breathe in the dust and stale, heavy air.
One day, a smell like a rotting corpse began to fill the living room and the rest of the place. On investigation, it seemed someone had eaten instant cup noodles, dumped the leftovers in the kitchen sink, and left them there until a new ecosystem developed. I bought rubber gloves and food-waste bags and dealt with it. Even if I asked which of our esteemed manager, senior manager, or deputy branch manager had done this, nobody would own up. I'd only get yelled at for asking. Rank ruled everything at the bank, and the residence was no different. Seeing the same people at home that I saw at the branch made it feel like I worked twenty-four hours a day.
Their hygiene alone made me want to move out and find a room to rent immediately. But living in company housing cost 50,000 won a month. Where else could I get a place for 50,000 won, electricity and water included? If there were one near the bank, I'd live there even if it was haunted. Bankers weren't afraid of ghosts. In modern society, money and people were much scarier.
Geon-u had been hired locally in Taecheon and commuted from home. Apparently he studied for the fund sales exam after work. How industrious. Once I got home, I couldn't do a thing. I'd accepted the information on Goldlight Bank's new products that he'd printed out for me, but it stayed in my briefcase, unread.
I lay on my bed messaging friends on my phone or listening through headphones to silly, meaningless videos. Sometimes the sound of some strange video the deputy branch manager was watching traveled across the living room into my bedroom. I needed to work on myself. I couldn't waste time doing nothing. You aren't better than anyone else. Do you know how hard younger, more diligent people study and exercise? Why are you lying here doing nothing? Your parents aren't rich. You aren't rich either. Are you going to fritter away precious time on pointless things? Do you think life is easy?
One half of my brain harshly insisted I should be improving myself, while the other wanted to lie down and watch short videos that weren't even entertaining or funny. I accepted both opinions and chose the easier course: I watched meaningless clips while relentlessly berating myself in my head.
I didn't want to do anything. Geon-u might not know this, but pass the fund exam and you had to sell funds. Pass all three insurance agency qualifications and you had to sell insurance. Whatever qualification you earned, they'd tell you to sell something with it. The more capable you became, the greater the sales pressure. Was this how everyone lived?
If I didn't want to study, I should at least exercise. I didn't want to do that either. At Hwapyeong, I'd left work at a more reasonable hour and spent an hour at the gym before going home. Here at Taecheon, getting away at midnight was about the best I could hope for on average. Once I lay down, I didn't want to lift a finger.
Two months ago, I'd been running five kilometers for exercise. Now I took the elevator every time because I couldn't face walking up a mere six floors, and drove the two kilometers to the branch because I didn't want to walk. If I'd left my car there, I took a taxi or caught a ride. A person's environment really could change them. How much would I change while I was here? I hated even thinking that the people at this branch might change me in ways I didn't want.