| Another ten minutes - Trees |
| Posted on 29/11/04 at 09:22 by NGONGE |
Today, I managed to upset a few people in the office. I came in to work this morning. Had my usual cup of tea and flashed my teeth at the usual people. I got to my desk; sat down and got on with the serious business of pretending to do some work. I got bored but didnt want to show it. I pretended to be deep in thought contemplating some difficult mathematical problem. I gazed around the room and rested my eyes on my office plant. It was dying! Whose responsibility is it to water these plants? I despise gardening. Im a nomad. We only deal with plants to feed our livestock or use for fire. We dont grow these things. It is not my fault.
I heard someone say, it looks dead, does it not? I panicked. It was my boss. He was standing and looking at the plant. I told him that I dont really know if it is dead or just losing its leafs because of autumn. He went over and examined it. He concluded that his initial diagnosis was correct; it is dying. I panicked!
He shook his head and mumbled something about paying more attention. I told him about my nomadic heritage. He didnt hear me. He was giving me a lecture about the best way to look after plants. A passing colleague heard this one sided conversation and decided to join us. They were talking about the best way to get rid of insects and wood warms or some such things! I was dreaming of coconut trees. Why dont they have coconut trees in offices anyway?
I heard someone asking me what should we do? I looked to see and noticed that a third colleague has joined us! Dont these people have any work to do?
They wanted to revive the dying plant. I wanted to burn the dying plant. I wanted to burn my boss. I wanted to burn the whole office. I smiled as I saw the whole building burning in my minds eye. Great balls of fire! I imagined myself running down the stairs and getting out of the building before it finally collapsed and was reduced to dust! I heard the question again. I was still smiling as I thought of the compensation I was going to receive for heroically working in a burning building. I beamed wider when I thought of all the praise I received when my bravery was mentioned. Our leggy secretary was hugging me and showering me with kisses for rescuing her from the raging inferno. The BBC sent out Moira Stewart to interview me. My eyes started to water at the thought. This was heaven. I heard the question a third time. This time, it was my boss asking it. I panicked.
I looked at my boss and two colleagues and told them that I know nothing about gardening. They looked at each other, looked at me and then looked at each other again. These people must be tree worshippers. I saw the look of disgust in their faces. I saw the bubbling anger under their composed exterior. They were tree-lovers and they expected everyone to love trees. I dont like people forcing me to follow their rules. I do not worship trees. I dont even like trees! My boss spoke. He told me that I didnt know what great pleasures I was missing out on. I told him that I disliked mud, Wellington boots and rakes. He told me that looking after a tree, plant or a garden showed ones sensitive side. I told him that I once owned a hamster. The other two retorted that looking after plants cannot be compared to looking after a hamster. They seemed quite offended by the comparison! I agreed and told them that a hamster was more animated than a tree. They laughed. At me!
I thought about my hamster. He was too big for a hamster. In fact, he was a Guinea pig that I bought because the pet shop had ran out of hamsters. He was a lovely brown hamster with lots of white, black and orange dollops of colour all over his body. My eyes started to water again. The pet shop man had tricked me and sold me a sick hamster (Guinea pig). It wasnt animated at all. It died within a week of me owning it! It wasnt my fault, just like this dying plant is not my fault.
Another colleague came into the room and was updated on my position about trees. She too was horrified. She tried to draw me out by asking me all sorts of questions about my opinion on trees. They were trying to find a chink in my armour. There was none. I despise trees. I hate gardening. I dislike Wellington boots. My boss decided that the plant was going to be moved from my office into his one. I protested. They all looked shocked. I ignored their shock and carried on protesting. They tried to trick me by citing the fact that I didnt like trees! I told them that liking or disliking trees was not the point here, this was not fair. Who did they think they were coming into my office and dispossessing me of my dying tree? If this tree was going to die, it has to die here, where it always been. Why should my tree die in their offices? I suggested that they find themselves another tree. This tree was mine and I was going to keep it. My boss relented but recommended that I try to water it and look after it. He was trying to trick me, again! I told him so. The others tried to speak up for him and excuse his trick. I asked them to leave my office. They started raising their voices. I raised mine louder! They tried to reason with me. I tried to reason with them back. It was a stalemate. My boss tried to use his position to influence me. I started typing my resignation letter. He backed off. My colleagues shrugged and marched out. My boss was glaring at me. I glared back. He stormed out!
I sat back, staring at my tree and thinking of the best way to start a fire.
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