Confession

I am harboring some mean-spirited feelings towards a new co-worker of mine. He is squeaky-clean, polite, pleasant and hard-working. Everybody else loves him. I want to send him back to Pleasantville, where he came from. This Stepford husband has just started his employment with our firm and he already managed to make all employees fall in love with him. I’m watching him closely and so far I have not seen him spraying love potion in the office. I don’t know what it is he does but I don’t believe the word “no” exists in his vocabulary. It’s the pre-programmed “Yes, Sir!, Right away M’am”. Needless to say that this kind of response automatically elicits a twitch in my arm, desperately trying to make contact with his face. The funny thing is he is extremely likeable. A diabetic’s worst nightmare, so sweet and saccharine that it will make anyone’s blood sugar rise. The skeptic in me wonders how anyone can possibly act that way and be genuine. Doggonit he IS genuine. Perfectly parted hair to the side, well-groomed and neatly-dressed. Whatever this boy scout’s selling, everyone’s buying. I help him out if the need arises. It may be hard to believe but I am a good person at heart. What I am far from though is picture perfect. My grooming habits are halfway-decent, I like to sleep in most days of the week and I do my best work after returning from lunch with a belly full of wine. I bet this kid doesn’t even know what alcohol tastes like. He doesn’t seem Amish but he sure acts it. For his sake I hope he’s a cult member. Only The Illuminati or Masons can brainwash someone to that extreme. I’ve never been so conflicted in my life. Just when I’m on the brink of clubbing him over the head I see his puppy dog micky blue eyes and my fist relaxes while I now struggle not to pet his perfectly arranged hair.