“I could’ve died happy not knowing you.”
There. I said it. And I meant it. I wished I’d never met her.
We’d just come out of another meeting, another opportunity that she’d used to get ahead at the expense of others. At my expense.
Imagine hearing these words being said in front of a dozen people, including your boss: “See? Your job ain’t so difficult.”
Worse, she’d made that statement after pulling my draft out of my very hands and revising and completing it in all of five minutes. And that was after I’d reported to the group that I needed an extra week to work on it.
She was evil, I was so sure of it. If she’d been a guy I swore I would’ve long punched her in the face.
“I was just stating a fact, Jim, and you know it. You’re mad because you know it’s true: Your job is not difficult; you’ve just been under-performing. And not because you’re lacking in ability or intelligence — I’d be the first to feel sympathy for you if that were the case — but you’re just lazy and you don’t care about what we’re doing here.”
Her brashness made me blink; I’d started being on attack mode, cornering her at her cubicle straight from the conference room, but her comeback came so fast and so strongly I found myself unable to come up with a response of my own. I ended up just turning around and walking out.
Writing prompt, “died happy,” courtesy of Inspiration Monday. This will also be included in my draft novel-in-progress.