A Day in the Park

I read about it in the paper, in the subway, on my way to work. The title was right there in big, bold type, "CEO Murders President in Cold Blood." It made me think of my boss, the oaf that he was, and how much the entire office hated him. Daryl acted like a god.

I was just a peon; a little bug crawling on the shoe of big business. It was my job to file Daryl's income reports for the company. He never actually did the reports--I did. I compiled, computed, and filed; he gleefully took all the credit. "You need to be more constructive," he said one day while dropping the report on my desk. "This is your new monthly take. Don't screw it up!"

I laughed to myself as i read through the beginning of the article. I could see Daryl killing the company President for the prized corner office with a view of the park. He would do it, too. I'd love to kill Daryl--well, maybe just wish an unfortunate accident on him. Maybe his car could blow up, or he could get hit by a bus crossing the street. This guy used a letter opener.

A letter opener? He must have been angry with that president to use something so degrading. A gun would sound better for the papers. I continued reading. The man had been stabbed thirty-two times in the chest. They found him still sitting in his chair in the boardroom.

I'm really glad all the board meetings in my office are at eight; I'm never there. Peons like me come in at nine when the meetings are done because the department budget does not allow extra funds to pay us to come in early for big-wig meetings. "People like you aren't important enough to need to know everything." That was Daryl's answer the one time I made the mistake of asking.

I finished up the article and laughed again as I realized it actually had been Daryl. According to the report, it all happened last night around seven. The president called the CEO into the boardroom for a private meeting to fire him. Angered, Daryl grabbed the letter opener and stabbed the president. Security was alerted to screaming and arrested CEO Daryl Pinkerton on sight.

The entire building had been shut down. My chuckles became giddy as I realized I did not have to go into work.

"What's so funny?" the woman sitting across from me questioned as the subway car drew to a stop.

"I don't have to go to work today." I stood up from my seat, exited the car, and dumped the paper into the nearest trash can. I think I'll spend a day in the park.