Pushing Paper

by Jay Kerner

Unless you are a fan of the long-running television show, “The Office,” none of this will mean much to you. But on the other hand, if you are indeed clued into the Dunder-Mifflin universe, it might. You see, I worked in what had to be the model for the show towards the end of the last century. And all I can say is that I never saw the cameras! I was a suit, pushing paper.

My sales manager was Michael Scott (not his actual name). When I say it was him, I mean right down to the smallest details. Loud. Brash. And hugely inappropriate. But it wasn’t just Michael. All of the other characters you know and love were there, too. Kevin and Oscar. Dwight and Stanley. Angela, Meredith, and Phyllis. They didn’t cast the show to match my coworkers exactly. They morphed a few characters together, but if you knew the originals as I did, you’d absolutely recognize them in the TV version.

Paper products are a commodity. These days, you can get them from lots of different places in a wide variety of prices and quality. But back then, most businesses got them from a local distributor, with the choice made through relationships as much as numbers. Schmoozing was the name of the game. Tickets to this and that. Expense account lunches at strip club buffets. It was a sleazier business than I realized.

I wasn’t there too long before I truly understood the reality of the situation. In the past, the giant food-service distributors had always left the paper business to the locals, but no more! They wanted it all and bought such huge quantities that even a large regional company like us could no longer compete on price. I saw the writing on the wall when the parent corporation axed 25 percent of the sales force. It didn’t get me that time, but I started planning an exit strategy and got out before it did.

I mentioned a lot of Office characters without telling you which one was me. Sorry, but there wasn’t a perfect match. I like to think that they spread a lot of my endearing qualities among several of them. And besides, imagine the casting challenge! The similarities between the televised Dunder-Mifflin and the one I worked for are too many to list here. Episode after episode, I saw workplace storylines that I’d lived in person. The backstabbing and in-fighting. The struggle to survive in a changing marketplace. The meetings to plan meetings.

The TV version was a comedy. The real one was more of a tragedy, but I seemed to be the only one who saw it for what it was. The fictional Scranton, Pennsylvania company went on season after season despite the inept management and all the inappropriate behavior. Sometime after I split, I heard that our Michael Scott was ushered out under a cloud of accusations. I was only surprised it took so long.