2.a.ix
“And you must
be my… next appointment?” the CEO said.
“Not in your
sickest, most demented dreams, you perv,” said Tanya.
“We don’t have
an appointment.”
“No
appointment?” asked the CEO.
“No, but it
looks like your schedule just opened up.”
“Ew. Don’t say opened up. Not after what we just saw.”
Mr. Jones
continued, ignoring Tanya’s comment, “We’re here to talk to you about certain
company policies that Waldos not only urges its managers to employ but actively
trains them in as well.”
“So you don’t
have an appointment?” the CEO said.
“Didn’t we
cover that?” asked Tanya.
“Well, I’m
sorry. If you have no appointment, I can’t
see you.”
“You’re here
with us. Right now,” said Mr. Jones.
“I’m very
busy. Call my secretary,” the CEO said.
“Yes. We have an appointment,” said Tanya.
“Oh
wonderful,” said the CEO. “Please, sit
down. Let’s get started.”
He slithered
behind the desk into a leathery, well cushioned office chair and gestured for
Tanya and Mr. Jones to take the plastic, quite durable seats opposite him.
“I prefer
standing,” Mr. Jones said.
The CEO
shrugged and then wriggled against the plushness of the chair. He strained slightly, as if searching for the
most comfortable position. His eyes
glazed over and the adjusting ceased.
“I appreciate
your point of view, but I think you fail to see the big picture,” the CEO said.
“I haven’t
explained my point of view yet,” said Mr. Jones. “Don’t try to placate me.”
“It appears as
though there’s been some miscommunication.”
“We have yet
to begin communicating.”
“How about we
take it again… from the top?” the CEO said, locking his hands together and
setting them on the desk. Mr. Jones
shook his head and grit his teeth.
“The treatment
of your employees is deplorable. Your
management staff is encouraged to–” But Mr. Jones did not finish. He caught sight of the CEO’s golden wasp
cufflinks and froze. His vision became a
harsh, monochromatic amber yellow and he no longer saw the office or the CEO.