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|Crime Scene (standard:other, 1613 words)|
|Author: Juggernaut||Added: Nov 01 2010||Views/Reads: 1660/983||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Self introspection of two two fictional characters|
Crime Scene BY Subba Rao Part One I landed in the United States on a student visa, later got a job and then a green card to permanently live in US, then became an American citizen, got married to a woman from my own clan from my old country. I am originally a refugee from my native land where we were persecuted for our religious believes, so our clan migrated to a neighboring country. There we became a prosperous business class and yet hate the locals as savages and idol worshippers particularly those from the south as darkies and ugly, but smart. I work at a corporate office of a large company and travel across the country on a regular basis. I have a company credit card to cover my travel expenses. I wish I could eat rich food and drink on company money like my colleagues at trendy restaurants but I can't because of my poor stomach, I throw up if I sip scotch and eat filet mignon , so I settle for salad and soup, poor me. I am a control freak, I don't want any assistant, I am afraid he may take my job but then our company expanded to a point I was forced to hire an assistant. The new assistant was like me, an immigrant but highly qualified and was super smart, that's the problem I was faced with. For the first six months after I was forced to employ my assistant, I gave no projects to him. He came everyday and read old files and some correspondence. I thought he will fed up, get bored and leave the job on his own, so nobody would blame me. But then, the fellow never got bored, he came every day right on time, as matter of fact, he was the first to come to work, rain or shine; even in a blizzard, he came right on time when most of the staff of over 80 people came late and some never showed up. I heard rumors in the office that I was keeping my assistant idle intentionally, so I started giving him tough assignments to manage. He was meticulous and thorough; he accomplished all and asked for more work. But then, it occurred to me that I could benefit from his hard work. I took credit from his work, keeping him in the dark. When it time for annual evaluation, I gave him high marks but gave a small annual increment, if any. After several years of donkey work at low pay, somehow, he came to know that he was the least paid employee in the office. To my surprise, one day he confronted me for a raise. I played safe and gave him a big raise though well below the going market rate for his position. I just don't want him succeed. I kept him away from my bosses so that they may not recognize his abilities. I made a six figure salary and a large bonus check every year. I made a million from my stock options but my assistant was not even aware of stock options and I didn't tell him. I want my two children to go to medical school, that's a sure shot for good living for them. I don't want them like me, being a yes-man and a suck up. I have to constantly watch my assistant so that he won't come to lime light and yet at the same time I have to impress my bosses to get myself promoted. This act was consuming me and killing me from inside, I have a poor stomach. My stomach is only good in producing excess acid though my temperament is caustic. Irrespective of the final outcome, I am a “yes-man” to the company boss and the board of directors. I allowed projects knowingly that violated regulations. But then, when hell broke loose, all those bosses whose ass I kissed for years tried to screw me. I was lucky I did not go to jail and got off easy on technicality. My assistant, if he wants, could have testified what he knew truthfully in the court, that could have send me for good with handcuffs. But, he didn't, with all the injustice I inflicted on him, he was kind. Am I indebted to him? Hell no. What if my children would have a boss like me? I don't think about it. Click here to read the rest of this story (78 more lines)
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