There are many unspeakable things in this modern world. Some have been led to believe that such events are caused by a certain group of individuals conventionally referred to as villains. But as you digest my upcoming stories, I can assure you otherwise. You will soon realize that even the most “decent” people can act ever so irrationally. I’m afraid I might not have the full explanation for what had truly happened. After all, one could only tell the tales of their truth.
If I remembered correctly, I lived in a century in which privacy and rights are greatly respected. How I landed myself in such an uncivil situation, I do not know. It was an unplanned birthday party for the manager, a title I doubted he deserves. My colleague and I had to drive across the city from the customer site to the office as he had a planned presentation to deliver before he resigned. That presentation was then interrupted as a few people marched in with refreshments (including alcohol). The presenter was miserable that he had to repeat it again the next day which, as you might have anticipated, was his last day.
The “fascinating” part is that we both had to go on his motorcycle due to traffic in rush hour, leaving my car parked at the site. This hurtle was deemed rather inappropriate as it means he was responsible for my return to the site. So when the party was over and the afterparty was proposed, the manager formed a hypothesis that my colleague and I refused to go to the afterparty because we were to be involved in a sexual affair. That explained the unwelcome missed calls from him until 12:15 am in the middle of the night. Another way to justify his suspicion was to interrogate both of us the very next day.
Since when was the afterparty mandatory? What rights did he have to accuse us of such behavior? And what is the fault in that had it actually happened? Disappointed that we did not attend his special occasion, the manager interfered with my privacy with unacceptable questions for roughly 60 minutes. “Where did you go after you left the office?”, “When were you home last night?“, “Were you with [my colleague’s name]?“. Insisting on knowing the truth, he did the same to my colleague, not caring that he did not finish his handover presentation or that it was his very last day.
How Much Are You?
This narrative began with a rather lovely encounter, one that is excessively friendly. It spotted two security guards working at the parking lot of my office. For your convenience, I must add that the senior guard was chatty while the junior was reserved. Each of my arrivals was greeted by both of them daily and every time they were rewarded with a cordial smile and a warm thank-you. Each morning was perfectly splendid until the senior guard made it personal.
He penetrated my mind the way Hazel Grace fell in love with Augustus: “slowly, and then all at once”. First, he established his ground by reacting as though my warm regards was my conforming to the elder. Then, one time he directed my car further away so he could ask quietly for some money. Do correct me if I am wrong, but I lived in an era when this was considered unprofessional. Declined stating I had no cash on me, he later injected personal questions I felt obligated to answer.
The climax was when he ordered me to give him my Facebook account, his reason being that it was the junior guard’s request. Later, the junior guard did ask. It might have been foolish of me to have given him, contemplating that he might be in need of professional opportunities. The next day, the senior guard was at his endgame when he commanded me to roll down my window. He said, “He loves you. He already told his parents. How much are you?” The moment I realized I was less than a fish on the market for both men, I stopped driving to the office.
Sit With Me
An employee at the customer site urged me to relocate from my team to their table. Their reason was that there was “miscommunication” occurred because my table was strictly five steps away. With no regard for my team’s collaborative space, they made themselves present at my table four times, declining to leave until I obey and speaking unethical words. They made sure to distress both their management and mine until seat spot, like afterparty, became compulsory. For the rest of my time there, I was chained to that seat, unable to breathe.
My intention is not to seek justice nor vengeance for the above interactions. It is not purposed, by any means, to offend or reveal mistakes for the world to witness. It is simply for you, reader, to understand that it is vital to be aware. What might be amusing and orthodox to you could scar others for some time, if not for life.
Just because something needs to be told, doesn’t mean it needs to be heard. ― Kevin Venkataraghavan
It would be an utmost lie if I told you I had no fear in telling this story. I am, in fact, afraid that this is not significant enough considering worse tragedies in the contemporary world. What altered my mind was the fact that there are other silent people with similar stories, believing that they are not significant enough to hold your attention. Only when you face it do you know that movements such as #MeToo are less of a trend and more of a voice.
For a different experience, read the story here.