joi, 7 martie 2013

passing by

I don't think my collegues ever fully understood the reason why I seemed to show no sign of regret or remorse for my behaviour with the 'passer-by'. It piques them that I had the courage to stand my ground and not become intimidated by the less fortunate's stentorian voice, imposing physical abilities and intimidating political connections. No, he was no ordinary passer-by, not the average grocery store shopper or the weekend barbeque lover. Niether his unlucky facial expression nor his reckless gait were in the least bit usual. One often began stammering when looking in his deep, purple eyes, and the lack of contextuality which seemed to loom over his persona whenever he appeared left many a soft-hearted novice in our field befuddled and doumbfounded. Why did I choose to act against the common flow imposed by such an intriguing man? The circumstances of our confrontation involve a fortuitous discussion that I had the previous day with my wife, which did nothing less than mount my self-confidence to the point of indestructible. Therefore my supplicatory attitude, which I subliminally believed to be expected from me, was replaced with a very clear point: I would not give in, and not let anybody, especially not the scheming likes of him, give me less than I deserve. So when he told me I was to be relegated and work with people much less qualified and unexperienced than me, I decided he'd gone too far. What followed need not be described. It suffices to say that the 'passer-by' has finally replaced the 'by' with 'away'. For some, his absence is a plaintive source of recollections, others take his non-existence with alacrity and buoyancy. I am on neither side. I know what was right and what wasn't and acted accordingly. The rest is to be decided on the Great Day of Days...