Creeping up to the Lair
Constructed of tawny stone slabs and trimmed with black sills, Mutual of Omaha's massive main building looms like an ominous Easter Island statue from atop a hill on Omaha's Dodge Street. A steel and glass dome juts from the granite plaza in front of the building. Trying to appear inconspicuous, I sidled up to the dome and peered through the thick glass. What lay below--a busy hive of workers? I saw a food court offering Pizza Hut and Taco Bell. I was relieved to learn that Mutual of Omaha employees nourish themselves on similar foods as the rest of us. Placated by pan pizza and bean burritos, they might not be so ferocious.
The Daily Migration
I braved the lobby of Mutual of Omaha at 3:30 on a Friday afternoon. Employees scurried through the darkened glass doors in packs of twos and threes. Avoiding their path, I entered the lobby and politely asked the receptionist if I could take some pictures. She croaked "No" in a hoarse voice subdued by laryngitis. Shouldn't a receptionist with laryngitis call in sick, I queried to myself? I wondered if her froggy voice was an atavistic reaction to being confronted by a stranger instead of one of her own kind.
Behind the desk security guard "Laurie" warily eyed me. "Would you mind answering a few questions," I slowly asked, making sure not to make any sudden movements. She gave her long locks a surly shake and grumbled no. Silently I berated myself for not bringing candy; a sweet snack might earn me their trust. Luckily "Debbie" volunteered an interview, but the feral glint in her eyes indicated that I should not encroach too far into her territory. I quickly pulled my elbows off the circular, paneled desk.
"What's it like when everyone leaves for the day?" I asked Debbie. "Like a herd of cows," she promptly replied. She wasn't kidding; as the gates of the elevator sprang open, employees rushed out and raced to the doors. I asked whether any unlucky worker has ever been trampled in the quitting time stampede, but Debbie said no, it's always orderly. Yeah, and so is a rodeo, I chortled to myself. I didn't want to provoke this potentially dangerous woman any further.
Marking Territory in the Office
Employees not guarding the front desk proved to be friendlier than the croaking receptionist and the grunting security officer. "Fred" and "Michelle" told me about their work habitat. Space is limited, so I asked them how they mark their territory. Fred unfortunately has to share his cubicle with a "large, ripe woman." While Michelle enjoys her own desk, she must constantly fend off rivals who covet her lair. She defends her territory by feigning a fierce fighting mood and slamming papers around. Unsure whether Michelle is only bluffing, her rivals keep their distance, though they never cease their watchful pacing.
I didn't ask if employees snarled and fought like corpulent hogs for the spillings; I was afraid to know the answer.
The Food Supply
"Does the environment yield abundant sustenance," I asked Michelle and Fred. Fred reported that Mutual of Omaha is an excellent source of muffin protein during the brief morning feeding time. For lunch he treks with a pack of colleagues to nearby watering holes.
Outside of the Mutual of Omaha domain, lone wolves don't fare as well as groups, Fred explained. Michelle prefers to eat at the indigenous food court. Competition for meals is intense; in the frenzy to feed, elbows are thrown and an occasional tray is tipped. I didn't ask if employees snarled and fought like corpulent hogs for the spillings; I was afraid to know the answer.
Relations Between the Sexes
I was curious to know how Mutual of Omaha employees select mates. Perhaps Marlon Perkins served as a stud for the female brood before his death, but my youthful subjects didn't know Marlon--or so they said.
So I asked if male employees ever engage in demonstrations of strength and preening in order to impress their female colleagues. Michelle described sex-starved lonely males who long to breed. To woo potential mates, they engage in computer wizardry, vainly hoping to entice admiring females to their after-work lair. This tactic rarely works, and Michelle expressed hope that this male subspecies would eventually die out through natural selection. The men in Fred's department are more traditional, seeking to impress females with "peacock-like displays of strutting and suit-straightening." Fat wallet flexings are also popular, according to Fred.
Lessons for Our Kind
Like any foray into a strange new realm, my brush with the wild kingdom inside Mutual of Omaha was both scary and educational. Previously, I disdained the insurance business as a world of file cabinets and fat men sporting short, bad ties. Now I recognize that the habitat of the underwriter and his kin is dangerous and full of struggle, a harsh land where even well-educated white collar professionals scrounge and nip with their neighbors for their next meal.
The wilds of Omaha also gave me new-found respect and gratitude for evolution. I shuddered as I watched Mutual employees mindlessly scurrying from their desks and cubbyholes at quitting time, giggling and chattering as if they were happy and intelligent. How can they stand to live like such animals? Thank God and Darwin the rest of us have evolved into higher states. Nevertheless, as our neighbors on earth, we must always respect the Mutual of Omaha species and take care not to damage its environment with DDTs or raw sewage.
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