You may remember — back in 1989 — the dramatic rebellion of the women at Stateside Savings Bank. They didn't just decide one day to take over the bank; they were driven to it.
The dicey rebellion at Stateside Savings Bank begins when a group of women staff members are invited to lunch with the egocentric president to celebrate Secretaries’ Day 1989. After the boss ditches the party early, talk turns to the inequalities that bubble up throughout the bank. The women, eyeing their positions directly in contact with the customers, form The Alices Committee (in respect of “Alice Doesn’t Day”) to wage a proxy fight, gain control of the Board of Directors, and make some changes to their workplace.
What needs changing? Men hold the senior positions; the Board is composed of men only; the few women who have penetrated upper management are not paid as much as their male peers; the insensitive bank president (called The Bleeper behind his back) expects the women to wait on him, as well as obey his excessive rules. Stories abound of the fates of those who crossed “The Boss” or failed to follow his rules.
During the months prior to the annual shareholders’ meeting, the women find themselves taking control, not only of bank procedure, but of what’s missing in their own lives.
Jessica, a widow and single mom, is in love with two men;
Donna lives close to power, but has hesitated to accept her own control;
Sheila, longtime friend of The Boss, finds herself facing early retirement;
Judy hides an abusive marriage behind her belief that knowledge is power;
Winnie flaunts her good looks, believing that a woman’s wiles give her power;
Terri has the business acumen to climb ladders, but hesitates to move up.
Do they realize their goals? Does The Bleeper discover the plot and fire them all? What happens during that year of conspiracy and intrigue?
NOTE: No one notices that the initial strategy luncheon was held exactly 225 years after Thomas Jefferson wrote his quotable message, “A little rebellion now and then is a good thing.”
Excerpt
Jessica was kicked upstairs to the Marketing Department about
six months after she joined the bank. She was managing the home branch at the time, enjoying the work for which she was underpaid, but happy at having any kind of job at all.
In a tyrannical outburst, Talcott had fired the marketing director and
instantly ordered a new one. When a quick review of personnel
files showed Jessica’s experience in advertising, she was offered the
job.
“Think about this before you answer,” was the way Sheila McDowell had approached her. Sheila did much of the boss’ legwork. Since she had uncovered Jessica’s talent, she was given the
task of getting her to do the work for the least amount of pay.
“Working for Mr. Talcott would be a… challenge.” She chose her words carefully. “No marketing director has ever lasted more than six months. If you’re fired, you may be moved back here, or you may have to leave the company.”
The challenge was too much for Jessica. She knew she had abilities to soothe savage beasts, and she wanted to test them with an old bear like Talcott.
“I’d appreciate the opportunity, Sheila, if you think I can do the work.”
“No doubt you can do the work, Jess. I just wonder if you can
take the heat.”
The first time Jessica sat in Talcott’s office, he had warned her, “Don’t mother me!” Out of nowhere, he had made it plain he didn’t like anyone hovering over him — yet he liked to be waited
on.
“Strange man,” Jessica thought at the time. And every one of the days in her seven years since had supported that observation.
Every day her assessment of him was borne out by stranger and
stranger actions.
The annual meeting was another way to show his power, his control. He ran the whole thing. He told Donna how to prepare the scripts: who would be assigned to make which motions, and who
would second them. He choreographed the entire performance like a ballet, with no surprises, and especially without any members of the press in the room. It always looked and sounded the same.
The president, dressed in his ceremonial black suit, would breeze into the room, move grandly to the head of the cloth-draped table on the dingy stage, grab the walnut gavel and bring it down hard on the block, intoning a somber “Call the meeting to order.”
He then would fall into his chair and wait for the next cue.
(Baxter Springs, Kansas) - Discover how a beloved high school guidance counselor twists fate on behalf of four troubled misfits, and turns their life around.
