The office bustles with energetic positivity. Even at the pre-caffeinated time of 7:37 am, people are awake and alive; even with it being a Monday, people are optimistic. The air is clear, crisp, and charged. Movements are precise yet poetic, like a well choreographed dance.
A throaty, reverberating roar comes from the outside, through the glass building facade, dissipating throughout the acid-stained concrete floor office. It’s one of those exhausts that expresses its presence without too much offense, but demands your attention without hesitation as the waves travel your body into your soul.
The receptionist is busy organizing magazines, carefully fanning each copy at approximately 3 inch intervals, curving each spread so it resembles the flow of rolling hills. As she perceives the familiar roar, she glances up and a smile breaks her previously stoic face. The boss is here.
In four of the five reserved parking spaces, a plaque is proudly displayed for each: Reserved for Mark, Reserved for Alister, Reserved for Sidney, Reserved for Kora. The beast of German machinery calms to a gentle purr as it pulls into the first space, an unmarked space. It is unmarked, yet well reserved.
It’s hard to believe, but it took an act of congress to keep that sign off. Meeting after meeting, votes and petitions for exception. Human Resources even got involved: “It helps everyone recognize the chain of command,” they said. For some, the sign is such a monument of accomplishment: the pinnacle of honor and respect amongst colleagues. However the boss just felt it was not necessary. Everyone there was grinding, passionately working, and sometimes, relentless hours. Every one person should have a sign if we’re taking about respect and honor.
Infrequent visitors would attempt to park in the unmarked spot, claiming their mini lottery win for the hour. But security is on constant watch. They would often have bets on which out-of-town oil tycoon would try and attempt the shortest walk to the building. How many times would they circle, stalking the space like prey… or not circle. Questions were answered and beer money exchanged hands, as those unknowing were effectively directed elsewhere. In fact, security is happy to do so. Although not their job, per HR’s job description, they are always proud to declare, “This is reserved for the boss. Please find another parking space.” One could be in a McLaren P1 and still get the same line. If you’re here, you know it’s the only place to potentially find and have a chance at buying what you’ve been long looking for. Everyone’s aware of this and security is happy to remind.
When the gentle purr cuts, the sharp sting of autumn air can almost be heard. September always brings a sort of revival, as long summer days and strong suns often become more draining than exciting toward the season’s end. A couple of beats later, the driver door on the all black GT3 RS pops open. Black patent leather shoes, almost intently matching the car’s candy black, exit the cockpit. Today, the boss wears an all black suit.
~n
