Joe was a man who never understood the concept of respect. He hated arbitrary rules which deigned that he had to respect his elderly just because they were older, or that he had to obey the orders of his superior simply because his name was Superior although his ability was clearly not, or even the rule that he cannot talk back to his professors even though he felt like they were worthless at teaching.
Despite all that, somehow, Joe found himself a job and it was a highly respectable one. Ironically, he loved it when his ‘underlings’ – as he put it – respected him. He sincerely believed that he was superior to all of them. How else would he land that position otherwise? He was the founding partner of a global robotic prosthetics company.
However, Joe was a quickly aging man. He began to open his schedule to interviews almost everyday, betraying his company’s reputation as the ‘pretentious snobs who never hire anybody’.
Applicants came. Applicants left. Joe was not an impressible man nor were any of the applicants impressive. Joe was on the verge of giving up hope and teetering on the edge on a cliff before he sold the company to a very desperate rival firm who were offering very good money. Only one good thing came out of the long spree of interviews – the company reinforced their reputation of being ‘pretentious snobs who never hire anybody.’
It was a very bright and sunny Monday morning and the sun shone fiercely through the windows of Joe’s office, sending the temperature within to a dangerously high level, and the same went for Joe’s temper.
When his beautiful blonde secretary entered, whom many questioned whether Joe hired chiefly because of her looks, he yelled at her without hearing her out first.
Nearly on the verge of tears, the beautiful secretary sent an interviewee applicant into Joe’s office because she was afraid of breaking down in front of a visitor.
So it was to Joe’s and the sun’s combined maddening wrath that poor Nicholas faced that Monday morning.
“Who the hell are you!?” Joe bellowed as he heard someone come in.
“Nicholas. Nicholas Beaton. I’m here for an interview.”
“Nicholas huh?” Joe was calmed down slightly and was also slightly impressed at Nicholas’s calm demeanor despite being on the innocent end of his wrath. He was about to offer him a seat when he realized Nicholas already walked the length of the room and settled in the plush chair opposite him. Joe studied Nicholas’s posture for a minute and throughout that entire minute, Nicholas held Joe’s gaze. Not a flinch or a shift, but the same cross-legged, one arm resting on the armrest while the other made a fist to support his chin. Joe was even more impressed now because the expression on Nicholas’s face… well, he seemed bored.
“This is not what I expected.”
Joe snapped back to his grumpy mood. “Kid. You’re not here to expect anything except a big fat NO.”
“Well, I did expect some questioning, but instead I come in here and have a minute-long staredown with this grandpa.”
Grandpa?! Who the hell this kid thinks he is? “Nicholas, tell me why you should be in this firm.”
“I can beat my elder brother in arm wrestling.”
Now Joe was losing the last bit of his patience. “WHAT?” he growled.
“My elder brother lost his arm in a war and bought one of your toys. And I still beat him in arm wrestling. Both hands.” For effect, Nicholas swept the dust off his shoulder and shrugged. “No big deal. It was easy to find the weak point of your prosthetic tin foil. It’s the joints.”
“So you’re saying –“
“I’m saying your robotic arms suck.”
Joe was left speechless.
Nicholas was not about to have another minute of pointless silence with Joe because he ran a rather busy schedule. He graduated top of his class in Robotics and Automation with first class honours and was a highly in demand person. Without warning, Nicholas stood up, spun on his heel and left the room.
He dropped a handkerchief on the beautiful secretary’s desk on his way out. She picked up and when she turned it around, there was a cell number written on it.
Moments after the elevator doors shut with Nicholas in it, Joe emerged from his office, demanding his secretary about his whereabouts.
“He- he just left, sir.”
“Well, leave him an email. I think I’ve just found my heir.”
Update: Recently I’ve been forcing myself to write at least a thousand words or for minimum of 30 minutes (whichever is more convenient) daily. This is one of them. I’ve written several of them so far but I am only posting the ones that I deem decent. Hope you enjoy!