You may already know the pain of the office resident who is seemingly capable of everything. My calculations were solid, and my predictions were well-grounded in my personal algorithm. The only unexpected factor…was him. Even his daffodil varieties are perfect, and it took almost no nudging to cause him to bring them into the office. My area of ultimate expertise, taken away from me. The adoration, ultimately lost. My days upon weeks of triumph, coloured black and grey in sorrow.
To make matters worse, he brushes off his incredible ability with nary a mention, such an arrogance that I can barely contain my rage. Before he came along, I had the office resting in my well-sanitised palm. My policies were being accepted one after another, and I had won employee of the month three months running for my suggestions of new legislation. There was to be no running in the hallways, no swapping of printer codes and certainly no re-using of plastic cups when engaging the services of the water cooler. It was a clean, sanitary working environment that I was aiming for, and best of all, I was accomplishing this without sacrificing any of my colleague’s approval. My changes were viewed for the better, and I was a popular figure. It also helped that my own false modesty was programmed to each exact contraction of my facial muscles. I tell you, humans are putty when you run the numbers. Number have never lied to me, ever, and I was on track for promotion. In fact, after my gift of daffodil bulbs to the entire office, an expression of my ‘gratitude’, I was more popular than ever.
But this newcomer…he is either the most disgustingly genuine person I’ve ever met or his skill with numbers surpasses mine, which I cannot accept. His natural skill, charm and hint of mystery have ruined everything, and his skill at growing hyacinths is the final straw. I must do something drastic, and quickly.