The Imbecile

Damnant quodnon intelligunt. And that is so true.

I don’t know which is worse: when I was younger or as I am now. I would say when I was younger, although some may have some reservations on that. Gone are the days when files would fly, or subordinates wouldn’t go for lunch because they would have to pass in front of my office door that was always open. One thing that is somewhat constant is my being dogmatic. Not my plus-point earner, but sometimes it is good that I have such a trait.

Whether I am more irascible than I used to be is a very subjective matter. Many think I have mellowed and can smile more than what I used to be like some 15 years ago – my bouts of anger ephemeral. But nevertheless, there will be times when some people want a test of that.

Just last Friday, an odious bastard whom Wifey once trusted as a good friend, castigated me on my past marriages. The problem is, it wasn’t done to me in my face, but was related to one of Wifey’s uncles. Now, there are times when I am not known for my coruscating wit; and being judged by a person whom I have only met twice certainly didn’t arouse any witty reaction from me. I would call his a craven act by someone who is only able to sleep better knowing he can step on others; and there are millions of such scum.

It is fallacious that a man who’s gone through more than one marriage is just someone who cannot seriously be in a marriage for long – or marriage, to such a man, is just another ephemera. It can work both ways too. This idiot, who is also known for his garrulous streak, was implicated by Wifey’s ex as one of the people responsible for the failure of their marriage. Well, Wifey’s ex (whom I nicknamed the Glaucoma Monkey) is a very insecure person. Although most of his allegations were baseless, this idiot I call an odious person, is known for being a casanova-wannabe: he is old (definitely older than I am, judging by the creases of skin beneath his collarline), but makes himself up as a younger person, always wanting to be seen in the company of good-looking and almost always younger women. Ball-less as he is, he fears his wife. On my first meeting with him, then without Wifey, he told me how the Glaucoma Monkey had accused him of having a crush for Wifey, and scoffed at the allegation. Thinking back, I am inclined to believe the Glaucoma Monkey.

Despite having seen him walking with younger women after office, I have never had bad thoughts of him. That is his personality and that is his character. I hardly know him, and stories I gathered of him from people who work in the same organisation as he, had never influence my thinking of him.

Until Friday, that is, when he decided to blurt something damaging without knowing what he was talking about. I sometimes find myself stare into the yon in disbelief – he talks about me as if he knows me already, but how can he not know, based on my past, that I can easily extirpate him?

And today is Monday. When he enters office, he is going to find an E-mail waiting for him. In it, are some less-than-civilised words that I have reserved for him, the imbecile.

Caveat actor!