Fixin' to Work

If Tommy isn't wearing a baseball cap, he must be doing one of the following things: taking a shower, sleeping or otherwise in bed, or getting a haircut. There are three or four hats in his arsenal, but usually, it's the black NASCAR logo cap. He says he doesn't root for any particular driver. He doesn't like the competition, just the rush of the cars and their raw power. He's probably lying, so he doesn't have to hurt anyone's feelings by not liking their favorite driver. But you can never know.

Every weekday morning, Tommy goes to work in a office building in the old part of town. He works for Hyperforce. The name means nothing to anyone. That's the point. He answers customer service calls for a bank in Virginia someplace. He knows all the towns that the bank has branches in, because they're all in his computerized script, places like Poquoson, Hampton and Virginia Beach. He is never to reveal to the customer that he doesn't work directly for the bank and that is actually hundreds of miles away in a non-descript building in Florida.

Nobody asks, really. The bank is sensitive after their last outsourcing adventure. The customers never could get over the Indian accents. Tommy is clearly not from Hyperbad. They don't say "y'all" over there, and they're never "fixin'"to do anything. All in all, Tommy's bosses think his accent is reassuring.