I'll Be Gone Til November

>> Tuesday, May 15, 2007

I woke up early yesterday because I knew the boss would be at the office early too. I knew this because the previous night, I gave him my resignation letter. And if there's one thing I know in the six months that I've worked for him, he keeps his early mornings free for tea and the sometimes unexpected meetings or, as the case presented itself, resignations.

I went down to the office from my room at 7:00 AM, anxiously waiting for the result of my letter like a father waiting for his first-born outside the delivery room. The boss wasn't around so I went out to grab something to munch just so the butterflies in my stomach would stop sucking on my intestines.

When I entered from the back door, after chowing down a 2-riyal chicken sandwich, I saw the boss at the far end of the hall holding his mug of tea. He was headed toward his room. For a moment we stopped right on our tracks, the several feet between us seemed like miles. Two gunslingers at the break of dawn, one was holding a black mug, and the other was trying to tongue some chicken sandwhich remnants in between teeth. Western music played in my head.

I searched for signs. He smiled at me = he's in a good mood. He's not using the mug I gave him = I'm headed for Hong Kong. But then he's always in a good mood if he's earlier than everybody else. And he has stopped using the gigantic mug, er beer stein, I gave him since the day the office boy had to put two tea bags just to balance the flavor with the water.

"Assalamu Alaikum, kef Javee?" The boss said. Suddenly my western soundtrack crossfaded to belly dancing music. Six months and my boss still doesn't know how to say my name, this I thought as I sat on his office sofa. Come to think of it, except for the boss' kids and the Flips, everyone else says my name differently. Javee to my boss, Jafer to his wife and the rest of the Chinese, Pei Ja Roong to some Chinese, Javis to some officemates, Jafar to the office boy, and Jeff to the maid's husband.

"Did you read my letter?" I asked him, but of course he did. I'm sure his wife also read it. His son even read it. It's just a matter of time before everybody gets to read it and then they'll encase it in glass at the national museum as one of the rare three-page resignation letters that actually worked.

"Yes, I did," the boss said matter-of-factly after sipping tea. "What you wrote were true and reasonable," he began. He explained some points, clarified some issues, made some adjustments, released some promises and asked, well, pleaded, for me to stay. I felt relieved. A big weight was taken off my chest, and also that piece of chicken meat between my teeth finally came off just in time to save me from an embarassingly wide and chunky smile.


Wyclef jean & the ...


For the first time ever, I actually looked forward to work! My spirit was renewed. I was overwhelmed because I was ready to leave for Hong Kong. I didn't even spend my mom's birthday present just in case I needed to buy my ticket to freedom. That's why when the boss agreed to my demands point by point (and something more) I said yes.

I'll be gone til November then. Six months more. Is half a year shorter?

I went out of the office feeling great and loved and important. Later that day, I found out from my spies that my boss and his wife discussed my situation until late in the evening.

Meanwhile back at the office, three separate and loud arguments boomed around the office halls. People were crazy. I don' t know what they were talking about. I savored that moment, that for the first time, I was the happy worker around the office. No troubles for now. OUT

3 responses:

Odette 17 May, 2007  

......... =')

God is so good... Things make sense... =)

Jap 17 May, 2007  

He is. It does. =) Thanks Lola

sm 17 May, 2007  

'welcum apo... =)

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