Okay, it's bad enough that you actually wait for some idiotic person who feels he would be immune to your thunderous lashings just because he thinks he's so-like the President of the country, but to actually wait when you're coming from work, with an empty gurgling stomach and certainly at the hour past one's ideal bedtime, is more than I can handle. Good thing I have the security of my usual paraphernalia, which includes a book, a notebook, a pen and luckily Mitch's laptop, or else I might flare up on the spot.
Seriously I was already thinking of the possible ways to mentally mutilate this guy who's supposed to arrange a meeting at 7:30 pm, when I realized it's already past 9. Talk about professionalism. I think there's always a window of grace period in anything, but that window has been shattered to pieces when the hand struck 8, and at this rate, we are known to be merciful souls.
At that rate, I was already preventing myself to finish the nearly consumed blackout cake; and looked at Mitch who was so on the roads to fatigue. It already came to a point that I wanted every guy who stepped inside the coffee shop to be that person, even if the guy would just pretend to get it over with. Actually we should have left, originally our plan was to leave at around 8:30, but I found out that the matter was pressing and we decided to adjust. Upon hearing his phone, I saw a guy at the entrance of the cafe trying to contact someone. Now I know what seeing a mirage in a dessert kind of feels like. Nudging Mitch, the two met, and instead of preparing my laser piercing darting eyes at the villain, I was doused with cold water.
The guy who entered was someone I never expected. In any minute I was preparing myself to be blown away by the complete "airheadedness" of a certain IT guy who thinks that informing us that he was still at CROSSING minutes ago was his idea for a fantabulous joke. I was already imagining myself flaying him alive once he'd flash a sheepish smile at us in the attempt to make our hearts melt. But he was none of those...unfortunately. Nevertheless, our hearts melted.
As Mitch and the guy talked at the other table about IT related stuff, I can't help but feel a little bit sheepish myself. The guy whom Mitch talked to looked like a guy from an IT OJT class, therefore debunking my earlier visualization. He came with a white shirt, jeans, dirty chucks with average headphones dangling in his neck sporting a really tired aura. Smiling seemed a release to him that needed extra ounce of effort. He looked like any minute the world might swallow him up, and he was effective in sending out that message to us. I felt sympathy for him.
As I patiently waited for them to finish, I realized that this guy has more problems that he can handle. My anger apparently dissipated unto thin air. I couldn't care less about dinner now, although I'm really looking forward to that pot roast, but there are more pressing matters than my tummy matters, maybe like the boy's future and sanity.
After their meeting, I found out that Mitch and I shared the same sentiments. Coming from the person who wanted to flay the guy alive, I really wish his effort driving from Philcoa to Boni High Taguig was worth it. I wished him well. I have to admit that he is the best possible poster boy for jaded and overworked professionals out there. Looking at him makes you feel kind of lucky even if you feel seeing your boss every single day reminds you of death. I really hope he was able to get everything he was looking for. His look, as if he was carrying the world on his shoulders (ATLAS, is that you??) hunched back posture at such an early age can never be a good sign for things to come. He needs a list of things to do for himself. Well for one, he needs to take stress tabs (lots of it), he needs a long VACA, he needs a massage, he needs a couple of therapies, and he needs a better job, or else life would just be too jaded to be worth it.
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