Long Walks Every Day
“Please come to my office.”
And I make the walk again that I dread – the one to the president’s office. The walk has always had an air of potential finality. I have no particular reason to fear it, but enough people have taken it as their last walk here over the years that it brings dread with each step.
“Frank, you remember how I had you come in here to set up the new printer?”
“Yes, and it tested out fine. Is there a problem?”
“Yes. My keyboard is all messed up. I’m trying to enter a phone number, and the cursor is flying all over the screen. What did you do to it?”
I walk over, and he commits the one act of deference a boss makes to his underling – he yields his seat. I look down at the keyboard.
“Yeah, looks like the Num Lock was off.”
click click click click click
“Works fine now.”
“Oh. Okay – thanks, Frank.”
And yet, years later, he would not have the guts to tell me to my face that he was letting me go.