Back to the Grind

Work. It’s all I ever seem to do. Even in the six week vacation I managed to talk Angela into giving me, I found myself hard at work training a new apprentice. This thing never ends.

Of course, when you work as hard as I do, it can become difficult to balance a good family life with the work life. Divorce helps.

You remember how I used to have that annoying little cheerleader girl that I had to protect and take care of twenty-four seven? And she wouldn’t go away to boarding school, and I couldn’t kill her, and her IQ was too high to join the circus. Well, she’s her mother’s problem now.

But then I saw this. Yes, I still have The Haitian follow my Claire Bear around and report back to me on her behavior. Just in case.

“Sandra, how can you let her hang out with that thing?” I demanded over the phone.

“That thing?” she replied puzzled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That thing! Don’t you know he’s Sy–uh, a Republican?”

“Oh, honey,” she said in that uninformed housewife voice of hers, “we’re upper-middle class White Christians. We like Republicans.”

“But he’s,” I hesitated. “A politician!”

“Good. She’ll get real world experience and meet important people to help her in life,” Sandra responded.

“He’s a philanderer!” I blurted out.

“And thank God for that,” she said, “or we wouldn’t have our sweet little Claire at all.”

I hung up the phone realizing Sandra was no longer going to blindly help me control Claire’s life. I would have to blindly help myself to do that.

Meanwhile, I had Angela harping about the new Company. “We have to do this, and this, and I need new socks, and then there’s this, and this needs to be copied, and fax this to this, blah, blah, blah….” She never shuts up. I thought she would simply be a figurehead, and I’d get to be the man in charge. After all, I’m the only one of this entire operation with any real knowhow, any real ingenuity.

Suddenly, Angela interrupted once more, “Noah, since you’re the only one with any real knowhow, any real ingenuity, I need you to get coffee for Congressman Wilson.”

I hurried back from Starbucks with a Pumpkin Spice Latte for the Republican from South Carolina. “Oh, looks like an important meeting,” I said noticing all the big wigs gathered in Nathan’s office.

“Very important, Noah,” Angela replied, as she closed the door on me.

“Perhaps I could offer my expertise?” I quickly shouted through the closing gap.

“Ugh!” she sighed. “Fine.” I entered the smoke-filled room as she introduced me, “Everyone, this is our operations manager and receptionist, Noah Bennet.”

I smiled politely and took a seat in the corner.

“Go on, Nathan,” Angela said.

Nathan continued his speech to the handful of important politicians. “As I was saying, these new developments must be contained, but in a humane and civilized manner. Human rights cannot be violated. I assure you, under this plan we will provide them with the protection and support they need. We’re not trying to harvest their brains.”

“You lie!” I shouted.