Gridlock and Grievances (Yumi’s story)

11:10am, 10 Freeway. Stuck in L.A. Traffic.

The Southern California sun was relentless in its midday blaze as it cooked the asphalt, turning the streets of Los Angeles into sweltering streams of molten discomfort. A cavalcade of vehicles inched forward in the customary crawl that characterized the city's infamous gridlock. Yumi Takahashi sat in the backseat of her company-issued car, the interior a cool respite from the heat—an oasis she desperately needed after the morning's proceedings.

Her meeting with Manhattan-Westminster Financial had gone longer than expected, and although the investors' interest was piqued, the constant interruptions from her phone had been a splinter in her focus.

Now, with business temporarily concluded, Yumi was wrestling with the growing irritation that an unforeseen emergency was boiling over at the Wet ‘N’ Antics office.

As the car took another lurching roll forward, she let out a frustrated sigh. Each vibration of her smartphone was a jarring reminder of the apparently grave situation developing back at the Sunny Day Mall offices. She expected to be drenched in information upon arrival, and resented that the current confusion stemmed from fragmented messages. Some of the messages didn’t even make sense; a few were warnings suggesting staying away from the office altogether; a good number were entirely incoherent as if the sender hadn’t finished typing before sending and a few of the more ludicrous ones seemed to indicate there was some kind of sex thing, (an orgy?!), happening.

But then all of the confused texts were punctuated with a number of messages from trusted team members. Hana her PA and Keiko, the senior Product Engineer, that indicated that while there were issues at the office she should return as soon as possible.

She’d had tried to ring Hana back but had gotten no reply, which was unusual for her faithful PA.

Yumi frowned, she had intended to go for lunch with Cassie Lindor and Cassie’s daughter Lorna this afternoon and then likely take the rest of the day off. Cassie was a top American saleswoman and had decided to spike a potential permanent relocation to Tokyo, opting for a transfer back to the States. They’d met early that morning to finalise some of the details. She had a good reputation and Yumi was keen to get to know her better over lunch.

It seemed though that those plans were being thrown off. She weighed the potential gravity of the situation against her **** to be dragged into the office on a Saturday, and sighed unsure of the best course of action. Although at the moment all she could do was slowly trundle through traffic back to the office.

She caught her driver's eye in the rearview mirror, an almost silent conversation in just a glance. Terrence, her driver of two years, had become a reliable source of calm and an occasional sounding board for Yumi's less critical business thoughts.

"Terrence, these messages are completely out of hand," Yumi sighed as she held up her phone, screen populated with an endless stream of notifications. "Just look at this."

The black man let out a deep chuckle, "looks like your inbox is more jammed up than the 10 Freeway, Ms. Takahashi." His hands were steady on the wheel, his attention divided between the road and the current discussion. "You thinking it's something serious?"

Yumi furrowed her brows slightly as the car hit a small bump. "I can't quite decipher the code in these chaotic texts. Part of me wonders if... I don't know, if it might even be dangerous to go back. What do you make of it?"

Glancing through the rearview mirror again, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, Terrence offered a plausible but light-hearted theory. "Maybe it's just one of those internet spambots gone wild. Or a new kind of viral marketing thing your folks are trying without telling you?" He maintained a tone that was just shy of teasing.

Yumi smirked at his response; knowing him, his intent to lighten the mood hadn't missed its mark. "That would be the day," she replied with a relieved exhale, sinking back into her seat. Terrence had a knack for bringing levity to any situation.

Terrence nodded and added with confidence, "Well, Ms. Takahashi, you know Wet 'N' Antics has some lively ideas, but I'm pretty sure danger isn't part of the business model." He gave her a few moments of reflective silence, then said, "but if you ask me, it never hurts to be cautious. You want me to swing by and check things out first?"

Yumi appreciated the offer. "No, that would be above and beyond Terrence. I just—" she paused; her thought interrupted as another buzzing notification arrived.

"Maybe one of those messages is the key, you know?" Terrence suggested calmly, doing his best to offer a reassuring tone, "not everything's a fire, even though it looks like smoke."

Yumi couldn't help but smile. "You're right, as usual," she admitted. "It's easy to get swept up in this craziness. Thank you, Terrence."

The stocky African American man nodded, focusing back on the chaos of LA traffic, before adding "I tell you what, I could tune in to Sunny DM FM. If there’s anything major happening in the mall they’ll be giving a live segment,"

"That's right, thank you, Terrence. Yes please." Yumi said.

Sunny DM FM, was a local radio station that happened to have its studio in the mall. In fact, its studio was also on the 6th floor as it happened, though on the Southern and Eastern section whilst Wet “N” Antics US offices took up the West and Northern sections.

Terrence reached forward and flicked a switch on the car's sound system before adjusting the touchscreen on the dash. "They've got one of these modern setups like Joe Rogan, even film the studio sessions. Let's see if they're live now."

As the radio crackled to life, a burst of brassy, upbeat music overtook the car's refined interior. Yumi watched as the backseat monitor lit up, showing a small studio adorned with bright posters and neon signs, the colourfully dressed host sitting comfortably amidst it all.

"...and you're back with us at Sunny DM FM, the heatwave of airwaves, bringing you the latest and the greatest!" boomed the overly cheery voice of the host Glen Stien, whose loud suit and flamboyant tie seemed to fill the screen with an odd sense of dated flashiness.

Yumi immediately remembered why she never listened to the station. She never could get on board with the eccentric local programming.

"And that’s the end of that segment Pandemic Pastimes: Questionable Quarantine Hobbies. And I think out Brit caller Gary wins that. But I can’t recommend anyone else follows that advice on how to use a Henry Hoover.”

“I didn’t even know what a Henry Hoover was until five minutes ago, and now it is going to haunt my dreams!” laughed Glen’s cohost Jim.

With an ambivalent mixture of disappointment and relief Yumi's expectation for serious news dwindled. Whatever was happening in the office hadn’t found its way to the rest of the mall or even the 6th floor. Just as Terrence began to reach for the dial, assuming there was nothing useful to be found, the host's face changed from merriment to mock-surprise.

"Now our next bit’s been slotted in at short notice. We’re live at the mall!”

“LIVE AT THE MALL!” a deep voice summoned from the soundboard intoned.

The camera shifted to shaky, handheld footage—a live feed from an Instagram user, the frame filled with the mall's bustling interior. A graphic on the screen indicated that the footage was viewer-submitted, and the camera jolted as the amateur videographer narrated their bewildered observation.

"Aight, so check this out, y'all. I'm chillin' at Sunny Day Mall, right? And it's like, every few, peeps—total randos—are linking up and then dipping into a bathroom, or yo, maybe a changing room. Then they're ghost for a hot minute!" The voice was tinged with both amusement and confusion.

The scene on the monitor jumped as it captured pairs of people, men and women, engaging in brief, hushed conversations before darting off toward various secluded spots—restrooms, fitting rooms, and the doors marked 'Staff Only.'

Returning to the studio view, Glen's expression mirrored the puzzled merriment of the off-site chaos. "Well, listeners, as you've just seen, we've got a bit of mysterious matchmaking happening right in our very own mall. And we're getting confirmation—from numerous accounts, I might add—that these impromptu rendezvous are not isolated events."

Jim, his co-host, leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "Do we think it's some new flash mob trend, Glen? Social experiment? Or maybe just a very avant-garde approach to speed dating?"

Glen chuckled, shrugging. "Your guess is as good as mine, Jim. Ladies and gentlemen, whatever it is, it's certainly not something we see every day. But rest assured, from what we can tell, everyone involved seems to be in good spirits, and there's no indication of anything untoward going on."

The video feed showed individuals emerging from their brief encounters, adjusting their attire and often checking their phones before wandering away, seemingly unfazed and occasionally even smiling.

"Seems like an oddball social game to me," Jim speculated, still watching the screen with a mix of intrigue and amusement. "Perhaps the participants are being dared to exchange...”

“Family show Jim!” Glen interrupted.

As Yumi looked on, she considered the possible impacts on her own store's operations. If there was a spate of exhibitionism going on in the mall that may well have upset the conservative sensibilities of her Japanese female subordinates. “I suppose we’ll all be glad when we’re back home,” Yumi thought. Though it was unusual, it didn't seem threatening, and more importantly, it wasn't directly involving or affecting Wet 'N' Antics.

Terrence observed Yumi's reaction through the mirror. "That's one I've never seen before," he remarked, his tone neutral as he attempted to gauge her response, “and I was at US Festival in ‘83,” he laughed turning the broadcast off with an indication from his boss.

“Thanks Terrence, that’s calmed my nerves that something really awful was happening at the office. Oh, by the way when we get back, could you drop me off at the general retail parking area rather than the private commercial car park? I was going to pick up one or two things in the mall before I go into the office.”

“Of course, Ms. Takahashi.”

“Thank you, Terrence,” she said with a smile, “you’re a godsend.”

As the LA cityscape passed by her window, Yumi mentally prepared to restore order the moment she stepped through the office doors. “I’ll need to get some things straight between me and the team, plug any holes, and most of all someone owes me an exhaustive explanation,” she thought, “I expect to be thoroughly filled in with what has been happening.”