Kapitoil_ A Novel Part 6

"Play along. This is a golden opportunity," he whispers. He adds, "Besides, truth is relative."

Angela ends her telephone call and asks me questions about my family. I provide the basic details, such as the names of my father and sister and uncle, but when she asks what they do, I say, "If I told you I would have to kill you," which I heard on a comedy television show the previous night, even though I didn't find the threat of murder amusing, but the audience did.

She laughs and places her hand on my leg. I feel myself rising.

"It's strange how you're from Qatar, and my family's originally from Korea, and now we're meeting in New York," she says. "That's so random."

"Americans frequently misuse the word 'random,'" I say. "Merely because an incident is unlikely does not mean it is random. I believe that if we were able to a.n.a.lyze every variable of the current situation, which is of course impossible, we could determine that our meeting was in fact predetermined. Therefore, when people say something is 'so random,' they should truly say that it is 'so destined.'"

She smiles but does not respond to my observation. Instead, she says, "I feel badly that we're not talking to the others."

"Is your tactile sense operating inefficiently?"

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"You used the adverbial form of 'I feel bad' to express a negative emotion and said 'I feel badly,' which means your sense of touch is performing poorly."

Again she smiles and says nothing. I certify that that is the last time I will note anything about usage or grammar to an American.

Jefferson is kissing his female and Dan is whispering in the ear of his female. So I whisper in Angela's ear, "I am not used to being around someone as beautiful as you."

"Really?" she asks.

"Yes," I say. "If someone told me a week ago that I would be sitting with someone like you at a place like this, I would not have believed them."

Angela smiles and removes her hand from my leg. "You're sweet," she says, and she looks at her friends. "I have to go to the ladies' room." She leaves the VIP area and goes downstairs, and I wait for her to return. Dan is still talking to his female, and although she does not appear as interested in him as Jefferson's female is in Jefferson, I look straight ahead so that I am not infringing upon their privacy.

In ten minutes she has still not returned, and then Dan's female receives a call on her cellular, and she taps her other friend and says something to her that I cannot hear, and then they stand up with Dan and Jefferson and go downstairs. They all dance together very closely, and Angela joins them and dances with them as well, and although I am of course not very invested in Angela, I still feel foolish for what I told her and my chest feels like someone has punched me in it and left his fist there.

I want to leave, but someone has to protect the vodka and orange juice, as there is still approximately 25% of it left, so I wait another 15 minutes at the table. When another song begins and they still do not return, I go downstairs.

I do not have Jefferson's or Dan's telephone numbers, but I do not want to disturb them now, and I especially do not want Angela to see me again, so I escape through the dance floor, which is highly bottlenecked and difficult to divide, and exit past the guard outside and the people on line, which is now quadruple the original length, and walk to the N train and wait a long time for it, then take it home, and pray and record my journal until I feel normal again, and before I finish, without attempting, I load an image in my brain of Rebecca, who is probably sleeping right now.

1,000-mile view = future outlookat the end of the day = in conclusionaneurysm = expansion of a blood vessel that often results in sudden deathbig hit = major loss/major success (in baseball as well)come with = come with (but the object of the preposition is not necessary)don't sweat it = be careless about a problemgaijin = j.a.panese term for non-j.a.panese persongolden opportunity = opportunity with great profit potential, monetary or nonmonetaryhave a blast = enjoy yourselfhum = function welllevel with = be transparent withlion's share = majorityLIRR = Long Island Rail RoadMaries and Joeys = nicknames for the cla.s.s of people who take the LIRRout of one's league = a romantic higher-upplough money = invest moneyrat out = reveal highly privileged informationshe can get it = a female has romantic interest in yous.h.i.+t-shower-shave = consecutive actions a man performs before a nightclubVIP = Very Important Person

JOURNAL DATE RECORDED: OCTOBER 26.

I wake up exhausted and spend more time in the shower than normal, and I arrive at work a few minutes late when everyone else is present. When I enter the pod and sit down, Dan says, "What's up, player?" and extends his fist horizontally to me without looking, as he often does with Jefferson.

"Good morning," I say, and I roll my chair forward to him and contact our fists and then roll backward to my desk, except one wheel is misaligned and I have to pause and readjust before resuming.

Kapitoil performs well and we slowly increase our investments, although we are careful not to create market fluctuations. At noon I receive an email: Mr. Issar,This is the secretary for Derek Schrub. Mr. Schrub would like to know if you are free to play racquetball at 3 p.m. today (he has already spoken to George Ray). Clothing and equipment will be provided.

I try to contain my stimulation in front of my podmates by clapping my hands together softly under the desk, as this presents a golden opportunity to become acquainted with Mr. Schrub. In addition, now I know why Mr. Schrub smiled at the racquetball a.n.a.log.

When I am ready to leave, I put Kapitoil on automatic trades and pick up my briefcase. "Where are you going?" Dan asks.

"I am meeting with another Schrub team member," I say, which is true. "I want to discuss the Doha operations and the cost-cutting measures my supervisor there, Mr. Sayed, took. E.g., we saved 7% in telephone costs by metering employees' personal calls, and 12% in productivity costs by blocking various email websites. Mr. Sayed, whose first name is Sadik, which means 'full of truth'-"

Dan plugs in his earphones.

I take the subway uptown to 59th St. and walk east along the border of Central Park to his apartment. There is a doorman outside who is white and has whiter hair. I tell him I am there to see Mr. Schrub. "I work at Schrub Equities," I say, which is now strange to say because I am saying it at Mr. Schrub's residence and not his business.

"ID," the doorman says, with an accent that I believe is Irish. He looks at my Schrub ID, calls on a telephone inside, and directs me to take the elevator up to the athletic complex on floor 13.

Instead of wood and bra.s.s and gold like inside my lobby, this one does not appear as quality, which initially surprises me. There is white marble with pink veins like the sky at sunset, and the walls and ceilings have frames of regular plaster. The cla.s.sier buildings do not have to attempt so hard to look cla.s.sy, just as Mr. Schrub does not have to shake hands with too much force.

I receive clothing and equipment from the reception desk and change, then go to the court and wait several minutes, but Mr. Schrub does not appear. I am glad I am about to play racquetball so I have an excuse for perspiring. To reroute my brain I challenge myself with a problem: How many racquetb.a.l.l.s can fit inside a racquetball court?

1. The court is 20 feet wide and 20 feet high and 40 feet long, so there are 16,000 cubic feet of s.p.a.ce for the ball to pa.s.s through. In inches, this is (16,000)(12 The court is 20 feet wide and 20 feet high and 40 feet long, so there are 16,000 cubic feet of s.p.a.ce for the ball to pa.s.s through. In inches, this is (16,000)(123).

A. I estimate the diameter of a racquetball ball is approximately 2.5 inches. If I create a box that fits 2 b.a.l.l.s by 2 b.a.l.l.s by 2 b.a.l.l.s for 8 b.a.l.l.s total, then the box is 5 inches in each direction, or 5 I estimate the diameter of a racquetball ball is approximately 2.5 inches. If I create a box that fits 2 b.a.l.l.s by 2 b.a.l.l.s by 2 b.a.l.l.s for 8 b.a.l.l.s total, then the box is 5 inches in each direction, or 53 = 125 cubic inches. = 125 cubic inches.

B. Therefore, (16,000)(12 Therefore, (16,000)(123)/125 = number of boxes, or approximately 220,000 boxes = 1.76 million b.a.l.l.s.

2. But boxes are an inefficient method of storage because they waste the s.p.a.ce between the b.a.l.l.s. So if I have a method of wasting zero s.p.a.ce and packing the court 100% with racquetb.a.l.l.s, I would use this equation: But boxes are an inefficient method of storage because they waste the s.p.a.ce between the b.a.l.l.s. So if I have a method of wasting zero s.p.a.ce and packing the court 100% with racquetb.a.l.l.s, I would use this equation: A. (16,000)(12 (16,000)(123)/the volume of a sphere. The volume of a sphere is (4/3)([image]r3), or in this case (4/3)([image])(1.253), or approximately 8.3 repeating cubic inches.

B. Therefore, (16,000)(12 Therefore, (16,000)(123)/8.3 repeating = approximately 3.5 million b.a.l.l.s.

3. So, by packing them in boxes we can fit in approximately only half as many b.a.l.l.s as we could in an ideal scenario in which the b.a.l.l.s waste no s.p.a.ce between them. But the ideal cannot exist, because then they would not truly be b.a.l.l.s anymore. So, by packing them in boxes we can fit in approximately only half as many b.a.l.l.s as we could in an ideal scenario in which the b.a.l.l.s waste no s.p.a.ce between them. But the ideal cannot exist, because then they would not truly be b.a.l.l.s anymore.

4. The compromise between the box scenario and the ideal scenario is what supermarkets do with spherical fruits, which is a best-practice method of stacking them in pyramids, and this is another reason I value pyramids. In fact, this pattern is also the way some crystals align themselves under pressure, which is why diamonds are so sharp, because high pressure forces carbon atoms to align in the most compressed pattern possible: a regular, repeating structure. Most people think diamonds are beautiful because they mirror light, but I prefer to think of them this way, which is also one of the ways I think of Zahira and her name, because her brain's connections are so sharp. The compromise between the box scenario and the ideal scenario is what supermarkets do with spherical fruits, which is a best-practice method of stacking them in pyramids, and this is another reason I value pyramids. In fact, this pattern is also the way some crystals align themselves under pressure, which is why diamonds are so sharp, because high pressure forces carbon atoms to align in the most compressed pattern possible: a regular, repeating structure. Most people think diamonds are beautiful because they mirror light, but I prefer to think of them this way, which is also one of the ways I think of Zahira and her name, because her brain's connections are so sharp.

But I do not have time to evaluate the supermarket approach because the door opens behind me and Mr. Schrub appears. He is wearing white shorts and a white s.h.i.+rt with a collar that are parallel to mine, except his look higher quality.

We hit to each other, and I strike slowly at first, because I am uncertain how skilled he is and do not want to look like I am showing off, although I also do not want to look like I am a poor player. But he is better than I antic.i.p.ated, so I hit harder, and after a few minutes we launch a game.

He lets me serve first. I know from the warm-up that I can defeat him if I want to, but I decide to win the first game, then lose the second game, then lose the last game in a close match. Typically this outcome pleases compet.i.tors I should lose to in Doha, and I think the same will happen with Mr. Schrub. I am not truly invested in the outcome of a match, but I merely enjoy playing it, although it is more fun when I can play my hardest and challenge my own limits.

I win the first game 159, but I intentionally let him score a few points. I am not a skilled liar with words, but it is easier with actions. He smiles and says, "Good game."

When the score is 1310 in my favor for the second game, I plan to lose the point on my serve so that I am not in danger of serving again on match point, but I accidentally win it when Mr. Schrub can't return a ball I hit. "Avoidable hinder," I call on myself.

"Nonsense," Mr. Schrub says.

"I obstructed your path," I say. "It is your serve."

He waves his racquet like he is negating the idea. "Your point, fair and square. I'm just slow and old."

Now I am nervous again, because if I win another point on my serve I will defeat him. But if I hit a very poor serve or shot, he might detect that I am trying to lose. So I decide I have to aim precisely and miss a shot by only a few inches.

I serve, and we rally for a few shots and Mr. Schrub continues. .h.i.tting hard. I am surprised he does not play more cautiously, as people often do if they are afraid of losing. But that is how you must be in business as well: Reject fear and take calculated risks. On my fourth shot I swing very hard and aim at the base of the wall, but I aim to hit the floor just before the wall so Mr. Schrub wins the point, and it is almost as if, before I strike it, I can observe the ray that links my racquet and the ball to my target.

Fortunately my mathematical brain makes me very skilled at racquetball.

He takes the ball for his serve and does not say anything, and I let him win the next five points, although I make it appear close. "Good game," he says again, although this time he does not smile. "Tiebreaker to 11."

I take an early lead but allow him to reduce the margin of deficit. When it is 88, Mr. Schrub says, "Looks like your program's better than your backhand," which is not very good sportsmans.h.i.+p, but I smile slightly and let him win the point when I hit a weak forehand that he smashes.

Before he serves, he says, "You can't win with a p.u.s.s.y-willow shot like that." I win the point, and then win a point on my serve to make it 99. Then I let him win two points in a row so that he serves for the match at 109.

"I can't believe you're about to lose to a guy two and a half times your age," he says. I was able to ignore his previous insult, but I dislike when anyone predicts that I am going to fail at something. In addition, he would be 2.5 times my age only if he were one year older.

He serves, and I win the point with a strong backhand that he cannot return.

I make it 1010, and now I have match point, although I still plan to lose this point and let him win on his serve. "C'mon, Karim," he says. "You gonna choke now? You wanna run home to Mommy?"

I squeeze the racquet hard, which slightly pains my hand. "Is that it? You're a mama's boy?" he says.

He returns my serve, and I play a strong point and he mirrors my skill, but soon he makes an error and hits a floating shot, and I leverage the situation by jumping up and swinging my hardest on a smash and even yelling, which I never do.

Mr. Schrub watches the ball go past him. He smiles the widest this time and shakes my hand. "Thank G.o.d," he says. "For a second there I was afraid you were actually going to let me win."

I do not know what to say. "It's okay, Karim," he says, and puts his hand on my shoulder. "I've had plenty of people lose on purpose to me. I'll take an honest, hard-fought loss over a fraudulent win any day. I can tell you're a real player. A compet.i.tor."

He invites me to recuperate with him in the sauna. We relax in the hydrated heat and do not say anything for a few minutes except when Mr. Schrub makes sounds because his body pains him. "Ah, I'm mature," he says. "That's what my wife calls me-a 'mature man.' I don't know how many more years I have in me to do this."

At first I think he is talking about racquetball, but then I realize he means work. It surprises me, because he is only 64, and many people in business work at least a decade more than that, but also he could have easily retired a long time ago, so the solitary reason to continue working is because the challenges still motivate him, as they do for me.

"What are your plans, Karim?" he asks.

"I am planning to return to the office after this," I say.

He laughs. "That's not what I meant. But on that note, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"I have no plans except to work on Kapitoil," I say.

"I'd like you to take the night off and be my guest in my luxury suite at the ball game. Game four, the Yanks could win it all."

I tell him I am delighted to attend and ask what subway line I should take. He makes a face as if he tastes something bad. "Too crowded. I'll send a driver to pick you up from the office. He'll take care of everything."

I almost say, "But the subway is fast, cheap, and entertaining; a car is none of those," but I practice restraint.

We then consult about Kapitoil, and he asks insightful questions about the algorithms. When we are finished, Mr. Schrub walks me to the elevator. "Anytime you want a rematch, Karim, let me know," he says, although of course I would never invite him to play. He winks and shakes my hand. "As long as you don't let me off the hook."

As I walk to the subway I call Zahira. It is after midnight in Doha, but she will be up studying, and I know my father will be asleep.

After she tells me that she received a perfect score on her biology test and I praise her, although I certify to praise her for studying hard and not merely for being intelligent, I say, "Zahira, I just played racquetball with Mr. Schrub."

She becomes very stimulated, because although Mr. Schrub does not interest her the same way, I have told her much about him. "I am also going to a baseball game with him tomorrow, and it is because of the success of my new program," I say.

"You wrote another program?" she asks. "I thought you said this was a bad time to try out new programs."

"It is the same program as before," I say. "I reconsidered and decided to show it to my higher-up." She does not say anything, and I add, "I also went to a cla.s.sy nightclub with my coworkers the previous night. I apologize if I email less frequently now because I am too busy with work and networking."

"I know you are," she says. "I tell all my friends about you. And I also remember what you always told me."

"That if you work hard, you can achieve anything?" I ask.

She speaks very clearly: "That being a success at work does not equal being a success at life."

I am a block away from the subway entrance. "I am about to lose our connection in the subway," I say. "I will email you later."

In the subway I think about how Mr. Schrub said I was a compet.i.tor. I am glad I deposited my voice recorder in my shorts pocket so that I can listen to it again.

player = someone who succeeds in the field of business, athletics, or femalesp.u.s.s.y-willow = weak