Why Does Iona Iverson Create Rules For Commuting?

Hayden Jenkins, the driver whom I've recruited, often brings his girlfriend, Casey Sloan, along whenever he drives me to the company. Seeing as Casey's destination is just along the way, I don't bother commenting about it. But one time, when I open the car door, I see a note being pasted to the back seat. It says, "Car moochers aren't allowed in this car." I rip the note off the seat and ask Hayden, "What's the meaning of this?" Casey glares at me from the front passenger seat. She snaps at me, "Don't you know how to read? Every day, you keep mooching off my boyfriend's car! Seriously, are you this shameless? If you can't afford a ride, then don't ever leave your house! I hate car moochers like you the most!" I'm confused, to say the least. That's when Hayden jogs toward me and mumbles to me, "Ms. Gray, Casey doesn't know that I work as your driver. She's rather possessive, and she only sticks this note on the back seat out of her love toward me. "By the way, Casey really doesn't like sharing the car with you. I'll drop her off first. After that, I'll come back for you." After that, Hayden drives my car away. I remain rooted to the same spot, though I'm quick to call the police. "Hello. A man and a woman have stolen my car. Please dispatch an officer as soon as possible."

I'm Serena Sorrento, the sole daughter of Don Salvatore Sorrento. After seeing the news of a female employee getting stalked and assaulted by a stalker on her way home from work, I spend millions of dollars arranging specialized cars for every female employee in my company when they get off work at night. At first, I thought I'd receive a "thank you" from them. But those employees have the gall to criticize me on various major social media platforms. "Our boss is practically forcing us to work overtime!" "Why must employees hand over the information of their home addresses to the company, anyway?" "Since our boss has money to buy those luxury cars, she might as well give us the money right away!" The entire Internet bashes me for capitalizing on my charity, gloating about my wealth, and not knowing what my employees actually want. After receiving a bombardment of insulting and humiliating text messages, I decide to take the Internet's advice and call for a mandatory company meeting. "After receiving the sincere feedback from all the employees, I shall terminate the specialized pick-up service from today onward. Instead, I shall have it reclassified as a transportation allowance. Those who are eligible shall receive 100 dollars per month." As soon as the announcement is made, the entire company goes crazy.

On my very first day at work, I received an unexpected "Carpool Request": "I am currently 3 weeks pregnant. Since I don't know how to drive and for the safety of my baby, I require my colleagues to take turns picking me up and dropping me off." "After some research, I found that your car is worth a lot of money, and it’s less than a year old, meeting my standards for a suitable ride. You will be responsible for driving me home today after work." "I don’t work overtime, so please pack up your things before clock-out time and leave the office on schedule." I frowned and immediately replied: "If you have no shame, I’m happy to donate it to someone who truly needs it!"

My cousin, Sonia Sanders, only trusts OmniGo Maps, or OmniGo, for everything. While waiting for the bus during a trip, the bus that we are supposed to get on pulls into the station. However, Sonia grabs my arm and says, "Amanda, OmniGo says that our bus is only arriving in another ten minutes. This is not our bus!" I watch helplessly as the bus pulls out of the station, ultimately making me miss my flight and forcing me to pay double the price for another ticket back home. Once, after work, Sonia sees the green arrow on OmniGo and floors the gas pedal at a road intersection. She says confidently, "OmniGo says it's supposed to be a green light! That means this traffic light is wrong!" I look at the red light in horror. Before I can stop her, a vehicle driving ordinarily past the intersection crashes right into our car. In the end, my legs have to be amputated, and I become wheelchair-bound, while Sonia only suffers a mild concussion and a fracture. One rainy day, Sonia calls me an Uber to go to my follow-up at the hospital, but she sets the pickup point at a location that is flooded a third of a mile away. I try to change the pickup point to my home, but she snatches my phone away and says, "OmniGo says that this pickup point is highly recommended for disabled people to board. You can't just change the pickup point as you like!" As a result, I fall into a puddle, wheelchair and all. Sonia doesn't even turn back to look at me and leaves me behind. Because of the rain and the prolonged soaking of my wounds in the dirty puddle, I develop a severe infection, which then leads to multiple organ failure. Despite being rushed to the emergency unit afterward, I ultimately die from the infection. When I open my eyes again, I realize that I'm standing at the bus station again. Sonia taps on her phone and leans closer to me, showing me the details on her phone. "Look, Amanda, OmniGo says that our bus isn't arriving for another ten more minutes."

Since I've spent a few minutes using the toilet during work hours, I only receive 3500 dollars despite my salary being 20 thousand dollars. I confront my boss, Vivian Dune, immediately. Although she seems fair and just on the outside, she adopts a passive-aggressive attitude with me. "The security footage from last month shows that you've used the toilet for 40 minutes altogether. Don't tell me you're working there, right? "It'll be 500 dollars for every minute you spend in the toilet. That's the new rule of the company. Since you're a veteran employee, you should be the one taking the lead. Honestly, I already went easy on you." I'm a veteran employee who has been working at this company for ten years. Each business deal that I've closed brings the company at least 100 million dollars worth of revenue. But now, I get robbed of my most basic right as a human. Seeing my lack of response, Vivian flashes me a venomous smile. "If you really don't want to work here, you might as well leave. Do you seriously think we need you? Don't forget that your five-year contract isn't up yet. Who in this industry will want to hire you next?" I don't argue with her any further. But when my contract, which only has five days left, comes to an end, she's the one panicking instead.

"Ms. Smith, a complaint has been filed with HR. You have been accused of misusing your personal vehicle for unauthorized commercial activity." The administrative manager dropped a printed copy of the so-called joint complaint onto the desk, a faint, knowing smile on her lips. The company had decided to issue me a fine, placed a formal warning on my record, and revoked my performance bonus for this quarter. I stared at the handwriting on the complaint, then let out a short, incredulous laugh. I recognized it instantly. It was Selena Rogers. The same coworker who had been hitching rides with me to and from work every day for the past three years. It was all because of last night's storm. She had insisted I take a long detour to drive her to the mall so she could pick up her boyfriend, and I had said no. Then, in the break room, Selena's voice carried loud and clear. "Jennifer, I didn't have a choice. "We have to keep work and personal matters separate. The transportation stipend from the company isn't for you to make extra money." Around us, coworkers glanced over, whispering and pointing, as if they had completely forgotten how eager they once were to ask for a ride home. I took a slow breath. "Fine. I accept the company's decision." Then I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Mr. Wallace, I won't be renewing the lease on those two vans. "Yes. The ones that have been picking up and dropping off the admin and sales teams every day, free of charge." For three years, I had been the easygoing one, paying out of my own pocket every month to lease those vehicles so my coworkers could treat it as a perk. If that was now considered unauthorized business activity, then from this day on, everyone could figure out their own way to get to work.