No More Worsts

CALYX

I put my hand to my forehead, sighing disappointedly for the second time this morning. I look up again at my secretary who is the source and reason for my disappointment standing in front of me with her head dropped low, sniffling and shaking like a drenched puppy which only makes my irritation grow. If she thinks playing in that sympathetic way is going to make me pardon this mistake, then she is so wrong. Sitting on my desk is the fourth mistake that she has made in the five days she’s been working with me for. A cup of coffee that she made for me.

This mistake is less serious than the one she made on her third day when she mixed up my schedule and caused me to almost lose an important meeting if I hadn’t remembered about it myself.

Botched is the only right word to describe how the coffee tastes. Even a confectionary company would not have this much of sugar. It is sweet to the point it is sickening. It is one of the ways to commit murder because it would have killed me if I was a diabetic. I for one have never been a fan of sweets.

I grimaced immediately the taste of too much sugar hit my taste buds. I have rinse my tongue with lots of water but can still taste it. I am very specific and peculiar about everything including my coffee taste which is always black no matter the time or day. As well as my preference for dark tie colors, and the shirt brands that I like. All of my likes and dislikes are drafted into a rule book for anyone who takes on the job of being my secretary. It was personally written by me. My taste of coffee must be on number four or five on that list. She cannot say Ronnie did not give her that to go through when she started working. It is either she did not read it properly or she must have merely brushed it off and saw it as an unimportant school rule she could break.

"You’re fired." I say flatly in a tone that one should know not to try and argue if they are smart. But she isn’t a smart one. "Please sir. I am very sorry. It won’t happen again!" She pleads with a Oscar award show of tears. "What was your name again?"

"It’s Trish." She meekly answers.

"Trish." Even her name sounds like a mistake. "You’ve been at this job for a week, in that time you worked for a total of approximately 68 hours. And you made mistakes for half that time. Firing you is reasonable."

"But please...." She continues begging. I listened absentmindedly because I was counting down in my head. ’Five. . . . .Four. . . . Three. . . Two. . One!’ That’s it. Twenty seconds. I grab my telephone and put a call over to security to come throw her out. She hears and sees me making the call but doesn’t see that as a cue to stop her damn pleading and walk out respectfully on her own. No, she waits until they come in and drag her out of my office. Even as they did, she was still being noisy with her pleadings. Ronnie comes in two minutes later like I expected. "Did you just fire her?" He asks me.

"Isn’t it obvious?" I reply to him without looking away from the files I was going through. "Have the financial team settle her severance later."

"What did she do this time?"

"Come taste this. Don’t if you’re diabetic. There is a whole mountain of sugar inside."

"She put sugar in your coffee?" He asked surprisedly. "She should have known not to."

"Find me another secretary by tomorrow. I will be involved in their hiring this time since you only bring in dimwits."

"Yes boss." He answers. "But truth be told, you are a little difficult to get along with."

He is right. I am truly difficult to get along with. I don’t know if it is me who made it that way or if it is just how I am naturally wired. But It is expected considering my background and social standing. Me strictly limiting my circle is more than me not wanting to have a lot of people of around me. It is a survival guide. Being easygoing draws people in and makes you a friend of everyone. Having a lot in your circle makes it difficult to discern who is after your very life among them. But when you are known to not be easygoing, they avoid you and caution themselves on how to act in your presence. They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. I believe in keeping none. It is difficult for someone who isn’t close to you to figure out about you. A king who gets too close and familiar with people most likely ends up getting killed. Look at the life of the ancient Roman emperors. Especially Julius Caesar and Brutus. It explains why.

"You are getting along fine with me. It wasn’t too difficult for you to get the hang of it. Same with Mrs Reed." I point out. "I just need someone who can be like that as my secretary. Is that too difficult?"

"For most people, yes. The reason I am able to get along with you is because I grew up with unreasonable parents. Especially my father. You are nothing to where he is. I survived them, so I’m sure I can be able to tolerate anyone else."

Ronnie’s words takes my mind far back to what someone said to me. She said she was no longer scared of dying and going to hell because of me. Because according to her,

I am much worse than those two.

I was the worst person she has ever met. I wonder if she still thinks that way now. I am believing and hoping that she did not encounter anyone worsts.

I would be very glad if she didn’t.