Appointment With Death
The morning meeting with the Head Idiot and the Scottish Managing Director had been scheduled for 10am.
I woke at 10am.
Slowly I climbed out of bed.
Resisted the urge to blame my guardian angel.
The bad workman always blames his guardian angel.
Maybe I was meant to be twenty minutes late.
Drove to Naas.
Resisted the urge to rant and rave at slow moving cars in front of me.
Better to arrive twenty minutes late at the meeting with the snurds than forty years early for my meeting with the Almighty.
Stayed calm all the way.
I was realising that the people waiting for me in the office didn't actually have anything I want.
Walked into Braveheart's office at twenty past ten. Didn't knock. Just walked in. He was talking to a minion.
I stood there.
The Managing Director dismissed his minion.
I sat down without being asked.
The Managing Director looked at me.
I looked back.
"What do you want to do?" he demanded.
I shrugged and said nothing.
"The meeting was for 10 o'clock," he pointed out.
I nodded grimly.
"Yes," said I and left it at that. Not a word of apology.
The Managing Director leaned back in his chair.
"James," he said, "it's only 9.20 now."
For the first time my composure slipped.
The Managing Director, with the only vestige of humanity I would ever see from him, now asked: "Would you like to get yourself a cup of coffee?"
I stood up.
"I would," sez I.
And left him.
**************
(Originally published 2nd March 2006.)
I woke at 10am.
Slowly I climbed out of bed.
Resisted the urge to blame my guardian angel.
The bad workman always blames his guardian angel.
Maybe I was meant to be twenty minutes late.
Drove to Naas.
Resisted the urge to rant and rave at slow moving cars in front of me.
Better to arrive twenty minutes late at the meeting with the snurds than forty years early for my meeting with the Almighty.
Stayed calm all the way.
I was realising that the people waiting for me in the office didn't actually have anything I want.
Walked into Braveheart's office at twenty past ten. Didn't knock. Just walked in. He was talking to a minion.
I stood there.
The Managing Director dismissed his minion.
I sat down without being asked.
The Managing Director looked at me.
I looked back.
"What do you want to do?" he demanded.
I shrugged and said nothing.
"The meeting was for 10 o'clock," he pointed out.
I nodded grimly.
"Yes," said I and left it at that. Not a word of apology.
The Managing Director leaned back in his chair.
"James," he said, "it's only 9.20 now."
For the first time my composure slipped.
The Managing Director, with the only vestige of humanity I would ever see from him, now asked: "Would you like to get yourself a cup of coffee?"
I stood up.
"I would," sez I.
And left him.
**************
(Originally published 2nd March 2006.)
posted by heelers | 4:00 AM
2 Comments:
As I was going along blog to blog, I came across yours and enjoyed this story. :)
I would have liked to have placed this comment under "Dublin blessed by the light of evening" but it didn't have a comment link and my e-mail system doesn't like e-mailing people by way of the blog link. You had asked if I had found any Irish music. I'm going to perform a Nocturne by the Irish romantic composer John Field with a floutist.
Post a Comment
<< Home