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Chapter 26: Father/Son Day

02 Sep

Dear Journal today I decided to take my old man to work as he seemed to be tired of complaining about the same old things and thought he could use something new to complain about and naturally work seemed like the natural choice.

It wasn’t difficult getting him through security as it was still office holidays and as expected my father commented about the flimsy defences at work, at least we had something in common.

We walked through the magnificent glass building showing him all the statues and awards (on other people’s desks)

I showed him around the Customer Service department, the fake trees, my cubicle, I tried passing off Eddie’s “World’s Greatest Lover” Chalice as my own, but he didn’t fall for that. After about 2 and a half minutes I had shown him everything in the office, even my collection of “liberated” stationery and make shift booby traps. Unimpressed.

The office was completely deserted except for the one security guard, who seemed overly suspicious of my being at work during the holidays, and Mr Berkley who apparently did in fact enjoy being at the office more than being at home.

I don’t know whether he heard me or smelt another living being, but he immediately walked into my cubicle to check up on me.

“Ah Chris, my boy! Glad to see you’re putting in some extra hours! You remind me of me at your age. Never wasting my time with friends and family, always putting the extra hours where it counts, at the office.”

“Um, yes, of course. Afternoon sir, this is my father…” before I could even introduce my father, he and Mr Berkley were shaking hands and sharing stories about me. I drifted in and out about what they were saying, but the terms “wasted potential”, “lucky to be here” and “disappointment” seemed to pop up all to frequently.

Before I knew it the two of them were sharing a cup of coffee in Mr Berkley’s office. I tried joining them, but as soon as I entered the office, the conversation stopped abruptly, the both stared at me and the entire department fell completely silent. Even the buzzing of the air-conditioning appeared to stop. All I could hear was the deafening silence of being an unwelcome (which in my mind sounds like a cricket riding a tumbleweed).

“I’ll… um…wait in the car” I mumbled sheepishly into my chest as I walked out.

And as I walked to the car and sat in the blazing heat of my chariot, alone, I couldn’t help but think…”It’s nice to see dad making friends” (even if it is with Mr Berkley)

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Posted by on September 2, 2011 in journal

 

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