This one time I was
really upset. Things were simply not going according to plan. My life was
morphing into a major hub of procrastination and lethargy.
There I was sitting
at my favourite table in the restaurant near where I lived, analyzing other
possible alternatives for my career. A plump man walked in, closely accompanied
by a young, attractive girl. Her face appeared astonished, just like a five
year kid who had just stepped into Disneyland, yet she charmed a cloud of mystic
beauty as she walked by. He reached for her hand, (to which she grasped rather
frantically) and signaled the waiter, probably for the usual. They occupied
the table next to mine, enabling me to eavesdrop on them. The pretty girl went
on blabbering how grateful she was to have met him, to which the man just gave
short grunts of acknowledgement.
This went on for a while after which the
waiter showed up with the order, a glass of champagne and a peg of what looked
like the finest scotch, The girl excused herself for the restroom, enabling me
to steal a glance at the supposed-tycoon, to which I was quite taken aback. He
was smirking at me beckoning to join him. I hesitated for a fraction, but then
obediently walked over. He smiled and his shinny white teeth gleamed in the
evening light. He asked me if I was confused and curious. I hesitated again and
then blurted out, “Who are you?” He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. I
explained I was a regular in that shop and never had I seen him any time
before. “Are you somebody rich and famous?” I asked stupidly. “I’m nobody”, he
said as he took a sip from his drink. My first impression was modesty; all
celebrities were when quizzed about their achievements are. I laughed
sarcastically and urged him to reveal his identity. The truth was bizarre. He
confessed he was no Bill Gates, but pretended to be one since the day he lost
his job three summers ago. He had worked as a chef in a rich man’s kitchen and
awoke one pleasant Sunday morning with the news that he was fired. The abrupt
dismissal was brought about due to the incident at previous night’s dinner. The
millionaire’s daughter had fumbled while eating, staining her expensive gown,
and blamed the fish gravy of being too thin which prompted her to err.
However
bizarre the acquisition, he was made to quit. He worked between jobs since
then, all in some money man’s house. He had developed an unusual trait of
stealing his bosses’ tuxedos, renting expensive cars in his masters’ names, and
driving to well known pubs in the area and that is where his true talent
emerged. A bureaucrat from Canada or an Italian Pizza Giant, he would say.
Amazingly his acts assured a very high success rate, so high I was
beginning to doubt him. Believing was entirely my own opinion, he convinced. He
winked and sank back to his chair. But then, the girl? Just someone he met at
the bar, there were loads of pretty faces waiting for rich guys just to slide
into their arms and be rewarded with expensive gifts and probably even being
sponsored to exotic holidays over the weekend. After a while, his date returned
and I left them to their privacy. They finished their drinks and the bloke
tipped the waiter handsomely as he left, too much for a person claiming to be a
part time apprentice. I marveled at his undiminished confidence and silently
applauded at his supreme dedication to his acts each time he performed them, if
he was indeed such an illusionist. He left in a flowing black limo and as I sat
there sipping the remainder of my coffee.
Suddenly life seemed
to open new doors for me. I felt livelier. This total stranger with his crap
story had something more. I was surprisingly able to infer a moral from him.
No, I wasn’t going to steal laundry or rent a chauffeur, but he showed that I
could be anyone I wanted. It was just the ambiance I would provide after I had
changed, that would determine my outcome. Confidence was a skill far more
superior to talent, and worked as a chisel perfecting the latter’s quality. I
finished the cappuccino, just as the waiter handed me the check and reached for
the day’s newspaper. A few glances and I found the perfect job, wondering why
it was so difficult to locate that advertisement just a few minutes ago.
No comments:
Post a Comment