Back to the Unknown Times

Chapter 7

Back then, there were many company dinners.

When projects started, they had dinners. When projects ended, they had dinners. When people joined, they had dinners. When people left, they had dinners. Even without anything special, someone would say on Fridays.

"Let's have a drink today."

There weren't many people who refused.

More precisely, it was difficult to refuse.

When quitting time came, the team leader stood up from his desk.

"Let's go."

Then everyone turned off their computers and followed him out.

The first stop was a meat restaurant.

We ate pork belly or ribs.

Soju bottles sat on every table.

People who were quiet during work hours talked a lot once they started drinking.

Who was close to whom, who would transfer to which team, where the next project would start.

Such conversations naturally came up.

There was much information you couldn't hear in official meetings.

"The next project might go the OO direction."

"Who said that?"

"The director mentioned it earlier."

"Really?"

"It's not confirmed yet."

Such words flowed between the glasses.

There were many unconfirmed stories, but strangely, there were also many that turned out to be important.

Sometimes, a few days later, it really happened that way.

When the first round ended, someone said.

"Let's have just one more beer."

The second stop was a beer bar.

Though we were already full, dried snacks were served again.

People spread out a bit more.

From then on, seating mattered.

The person sitting next to the team leader.

The person sitting next to the director.

The person sitting next to someone they wanted to work with on the next project.

I didn't deliberately calculate such things.

At least, that's what I thought back then.

I just sat wherever there was an empty seat.

But looking back, I always sat next to similar people.

Comfortable people.

People I had worked with.

People who talked a lot about technology sat close together among themselves.

I sometimes listened to those conversations.

About new servers.

About open source.

About what companies use.

When I understood the conversation, I joined in.

When I didn't understand, I drank.

When someone went out to smoke, a few people followed.

Back then, there were places where people smoked indoors, but depending on the restaurant or bar, some went out to hallways or stairwells.

Strangely, many important conversations happened in such places.

"Should we give the next one to that person?"

"That should be fine."

"That guy does good work."

"But isn't the design side a bit weak?"

"Then someone else can handle that."

Roles were sometimes roughly decided while smoking a single cigarette.

The atmosphere was already formed before it was formally decided in the conference room.

Someone was often in such situations.

I wasn't.

I didn't smoke.

I drank, but I wasn't the type to stay long.

I had to come to work the next day, and my house was far away.

Still, I almost always went along up to the second round.

When the idea of a third round at a karaoke bar came up, I gradually excused myself.

"I should head out now."

"Already?"

"My house is pretty far."

"Tomorrow is Saturday."

"Still, I should go."

A few times I stayed until the very end.

The person who sang well always held the microphone.

The team leader had a favorite song.

Everyone applauded.

Sometimes someone who was drunk would say what was really on their mind.

"Team leader, I want to try something different in the next project."

"What do you want to do?"

“It’s design.”

“Really? Let's take a look.”

The next day, no one brought up the subject again.

However, a few months later, that person sometimes took on a completely different role.

I watched it happen but didn't say anything directly.

I wondered if I really needed to bring up such a topic at a drinking party.

If I did well, they would notice on their own.

That's what I thought.

Probably for quite a while.

Once, it was near the end of a project.

I had been handling external integration and operational issues almost alone for several months. People came to me first whenever there was a problem.

“Why isn't this working?”

“It seems like they sent the wrong value.”

“They say there was an error only in the operation.”

I solved them one by one.

One day, the manager called me.

“Do you want to join the next project too?”

I hesitated a little.

“What kind of role is it?”

“Similar. You'll be in charge of integration and stabilize things when they transition to operation.”

It was the same thing again.

I said,

“I also want to try design next time.”

The manager looked at me.

“Design?”

“Yes.”

“Suddenly?”

His words caught me off guard.

“Not suddenly.”

“Have you ever mentioned that before?”

I couldn't answer.

I hadn't.

I thought about it a lot.

I had complaints too.

But I never properly told anyone.

After thinking for a while, the manager said,

“Someone has already been assigned to this project. Let's see about next time.”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

As I returned to my seat, I felt bad.

I hated the phrase "someone has already been assigned."

When did they decide?

Who decided?

Why didn't I know?

There was a dinner party that day.

Everyone was tired because it was the end of the project, but many people gathered.

After the first round, we moved to the second location.

I drank a little more than usual that day.

A senior colleague next to me said,

“Are you going to the next project too?”

“It seems so.”

“Integration again?”

“Yes.”

The senior colleague laughed.

“You're good at that.”

I didn't laugh.

“Do I have to keep doing only that?”

The senior colleague looked at me.

“Why, do you want to do something else?”

“I'd like to try design too.”

“Then say so.”

I got annoyed instantly.

“Do you want me to ask for permission?”

“If you don't say anything, no one will know.”

It was a trivial remark.

But it lingered for a long time.

I picked up my glass.

“I thought everyone would take care of themselves.”

The senior colleague laughed.

“Who in the company is going to take care of your life?”

His tone was light.

I didn't respond.

After the second round, people started leaving.

Someone suggested going for a third round.

I hailed a taxi.

On my way home that day, I looked out the window and thought.

I had many complaints about how the company saw me.

But I realized I had never properly expressed what kind of image I wanted to project.

That didn't mean everything was my fault.

Some people naturally got opportunities.

They might have been more prepared, or they might have talked to people closer to them more.

Academic background might have played a role, or it might not have.

It could have been because they stayed longer than others at company dinners.

Everything was mixed together back then.

Work and people and alcohol and relationships were much less separated than they are now.

There were good things too.

We became closer by staying up all night together, complaining together, and drinking together.

When something difficult happened, I was able to get help with just one phone call.

When someone moved to a different company, they would contact me a few months later.

"Do you want to come work for us?"

Many people moved on like that.

I was helped a few times too.

So I can't say that the whole culture was bad.

However, for those who couldn't fit in, there was an invisible door.

The door wasn't locked.

It was just that the doorknob was hard to see.

Over the years, company dinners gradually decreased.

People didn't stay until dawn like they used to.

There was a growing sentiment that forcing alcohol at work was wrong, and evenings began to be naturally seen as personal time.

I thought those changes were good.

I could go home early.

I didn't have to sit in uncomfortable places.

People who couldn't drink alcohol were less self-conscious.

Sometimes, though, I would meet with people from the past and talk late into the night.

Old stories came up naturally, without anyone starting it.

"We were really crazy back then."

"Drinking all the time and going to work the next day."

"I don't know how we did it."

Everyone laughed.

We talked about it as if it were a good memory.

Whether it was really good is hard to say.

Whether we were close because we liked each other,

or because we didn't have time to escape,

I don't remember well anymore.