#boss man really doesn't appreciate government woman like he should
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Brain Curd #104
Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!
The following material is classified - unless you've read the rest of Government Man here on Tumblr!
Government Man pushed the last quarter through the slot and keyed in the code. The machine whirred as the motor spun the metal spiral to push his desired refreshment off the edge. The bag of peanuts leaned off the side, scared to jump, but finally went over. And got caught on the next shelf down.
GM put his face up to the glass and his lower lip quivered as though he was pleading with the bag of peanuts to please come down from there. But of course, peanuts are terrible at reading social cues and had no idea.
Suddenly, though, snacks seemed less important as the lights went red and a siren echoed through the halls. Boss Man’s voice boomed through the intercom.
“All hands on deck! Report to my office immediately!”
Government Man ran through the winding halls, his shoes squeaking as he turned corners. There were some near-misses with drinking fountains, too. But finally he arrived at Boss Man’s office, where Government Woman and Government Boy were already waiting.
“What is the emergency?” Government Man asked, out of breath.
Boss Man turned his chair around to face him and disabled the alert system.
“I have misplaced my missile launch codes.”
Everyone gasped.
“But Boss Man,” Government Woman replied. “Are you supposed to have missile launch codes?”
“I’m certain I am,” he answered. “I was just using them for reading material mere moments ago, but when I washed my hands, they were gone!”
“You read the missile launch codes…” Government Boy asked, “In the bathroom?”
“I know I may have read them many times before, but I always forget what happens in the end. Very exciting. But that is beside the point - these codes can be used to start a war if they fall into the wrong hands!”
“Hmmm…” Government Woman rubbed her chin. “Classified documents, the restroom… this sounds like the work of Counter Spy.” She looked to Government Man. “Don’t you think?”
GM had a blank expression on his face. “Huh?”
“You know… your adversary… your nemesis…?”
He tilted his head.
“You first confronted him at a circus. He infiltrated the CIA. You wouldn’t sleep for weeks!”
“Oh… uh…” Government Man squinted his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, I remember now. Counter Spy. Yes.”
“Right…” Government Woman straightened her collar. “I say we start by searching the men’s room.”
Boss Man held up a finger. “I do not think you are allowed in there, Government Woman.”
“I think he is right,” Government Man nodded. “It is in the name of the room.”
“What difference does it make?!?” GW pounded her fists on Boss Man’s desk. “You lost the missile codes! I thought it was ‘all hands on deck’!”
“I have an idea, Government Woman.” Boss Man smiled. “Why don’t you check the ladies’ room since that is where you are allowed?”
“But they won’t be in there!”
“Have you already checked?”
“Why would they be there? You aren’t even supposed to be in the ladies’ room!”
“That’s why I need you to look. Please do not argue with me.”
Government Woman growled and stormed off. She kicked the door open to the ladies’ room and began searching the stalls, one by one. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. She pulled at her hair and leaned on the sink counter, frustrated. This was a waste of time, surely. But then, she heard something. A stall door opened behind her, the only one she hadn’t checked. Before she could turn around, the cold metal of a pistol was pushed up against the back of her head.
“Put your hands up. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She slowly put her arms in the air, shaking.
“What… what do you want?”
“I only want to show you something.”
She looked at his face in the mirror and her eyes went wide. “Wait… but you can’t be… you?!?”
#NSC Original#brain curd#brain curds#writing#creative writing#writeblr#flash fiction#author#writer things#writers#writers on tumblr#writers of tumblr#writerscommunity#women writers#female writers#queer writers#Government Man#Government Boy#Boss Man#Government Man Ep 13 - Bad Luck#dry comedy#comedy#satire#humor#Government Woman#espionage#spy#spy thriller#boss man really doesn't appreciate government woman like he should#Brain Curd 104
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Episode 29
I hate my job. Truly, I do. I should have never resigned from Thomas' company. People valued me more when I was there. Now, I am an executive, but I get treated like trash. I hate it. I hate everyone here.
I never take lunch because I don't want anyone thinking we are friends or that we should lunch together. None of these people are worth me having lunch with. But today, I need some air. I need to breathe in a different kind of environment because if I stay a minute longer in my office, hell will break loose around here.
I get into my car to go get lunch then plan to go eat with the one person I can tolerate right now, Qaphela. While I drive to get food then to Qaphela, let me tell you a bit about my job.
I am an executive lead in the external affairs team. I have about seven people reporting into me then I report into a director who reports into the CEO. I have a dotted reporting line to the CEO because my line of work impacts the CEO's agenda in interviews and other public appearances. But the place is not nice. My ideas are not Bible. People are lazy to work. This is the corporate space. Who knocks off at 4pm and refuses to work before 7am? Who? They always feel the need to remind me that they take wellness and well-being seriously. I never said they shouldn't. Not once has an objection toward wellness and wellbeing come out of mouth. But we have customers that don't care about wellness and wellbeing, they expect us to deliver. We have key stakeholders in other companies and in the government that expect us to be available for meaningful engagement when needed. This company is known in our industry for dropping the ball. This company is notorious for having slow service delivery. I'm not saying it's because they take wellness and wellbeing seriously. All I'm saying is that even I am frustrated by them and I'm not a customer or a stakeholder.
So, I, Pearl Shange, put in the hours that nobody wants to put in. I am the most knowledgeable executive in the department and my team has the honour of having the toughest boss in the business. But we deliver. I put in the work and I don't complain. The CEO has me on speed dial and has learned to trust me more than he trusts my director which now has caused a rift between my director and I.
"To what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Qaphela asks me as he opens the door for me.
"I come bringing lunch. I hope you still like braaied meat and that entire unhealthy diet sold at Solly's corner because I just spent quite a bit of my time walking through drunk unemployed people at midday, waiting for this food and risking my car being scratched", he is already in stitches as I say this. I'm glad he finds it funny.
"Nobantu, you are not human, wena. Come in", he says as he leads me into the house.
I come in and close the door using my bum because this man whose supposed to be a perfect gentleman has not taken all this food from my arms. I mean really. Am I supposed to teach him that?
I make my way to the kitchen and put the food on the kitchen counter. He has disappeared into the house, not sure to where. I plug the kettle and start getting plates out. I bought my own coffee because Qaphela is the Ricoffy type and honestly, I need the strong and good stuff. If I were not headed back to the office after this, I would be having whiskey.
I am exhausted.
I start dishing up this meat that has been braaied. I got him pap which I dish onto his plate, but I got myself garlic rolls because I am not prepared to be running off pap in the morning. My morning runs are already tough in all those heels in Umhlanga.
I hear arguing. Hai bo, kanti Qaphela has company? Also, I'm not fazed. I'm not going anywhere. I need company and Qaphela will do for now. I would have sex with him too, but now that I know that his penis was in another woman minutes before I arrived, that opportunity immediately flies out of the window.
I see a girl march down the passage. Really, Qaphela? Seriously? This girl and I used to be friends back in the day. She's even ashamed to look at me and I plan to make this as uncomfortable as possible for her. I left to go to Gauteng and she feasted on my baby-daddy? A friend, ladies and gentlemen - a friend.
"Nobantu", she says, breaking the silence between us.
Should I be petty? Nah, my outfit, my beauty and the car parked outside is reminder enough for her that I'm ten levels ahead of her and all she has left are my leftovers.
"Hello, Sizakele", I say.
"It’s good to see you", she says.
"I can't say the same about you, considering where we are bumping into each other", I say. Yeah, I decided to be petty. But she doesn't back down.
"I thought you had the Venda man and Qaphela was useless. I didn't think that you'd care that some of us found him useful", she says.
"And I didn't think that my friend was patiently waiting for me to leave KZN so she would jump on my boyfriend's penis. Then again, you've always enjoyed my left overs. From my left over food to my old bras that I'd give to you while your mother took your grocery money, underwear money and school fees money to spend on alcohol." I say. I don't know why I took it there, but I did. KZN makes me so angry. There is something here that just makes me a horrible person.
"You still here?" Qaphela comes into the kitchen and sees the staring match between Sizakele and I.
"Lalela la wena Nobantu, Qaphela and I are together. I don't know what you came back for, but it better not have been for him", she says. Oh please. Get the fuck out of here. If I want Qaphela, I'd have him. I wish women realized how they actually dare us to explore their penises when they threaten us, demanding us to stay away from their men. I made that mistake with Thomas and all his other bitches. Qaphela and I have a child together and Sizakele thinks she can control my access in Qaphela's life. I'm actually laughing at her because she is so pathetic.
"You think this is funny?" She asks me.
"I find your audacity extremely hilarious. You are the one that Qaphela is kicking out barefooted and wig uncombed while I'm the one preparing food in his kitchen. Yet, you think you can tell me what to do around him?" I say.
She charges at me ready to hit me and Qaphela throws her over his shoulder and takes her out of the house. They argue on the streets while I finish preparing food and coffee.
Such ghetto behaviour!
Qaphela comes back into the house alone and sits next to me where I have placed his coffee and food. Black Coffee with cream. I'm putting him on.
"Nobantu, you can't do that. I respect you as the mother of my child, but you can't disrespect my girlfriend like that", he says.
He should have said that when she was still here. He disrespected her, not me.
"I don't want to talk about Sizakele." I say.
"Nobantu -
"How are you feeling, Qaphela? You look a lot better", I say.
"I am a lot better, thank you. And thanks for taking me to the doctor the other day. I appreciate it", he says.
I nod my head and eat. He is eating too.
"So what brings you here?" He asks me.
"I don't really like my work environment. I needed some air and a friendly face. I thought of you", I say.
"What’s wrong with where you work?" He asks me. He has always been good at this - at listening to me. Thomas never listened to me. Ever. I miss being listened to.
"I guess I took for granted being the CEO's wife when I was working at Thomas' company. Now, I'm just another employee who gets abused at work and my knowledge as well as the work I put in is not appreciated", I say.
"It’s corporate, Nobantu. The only time your work is appreciated is if someone is benefitting from it. If you are one of those who have thankless jobs, you are replaceable. You were replaceable at your ex-husband's company. What makes you think you are irreplaceable in a stranger's company?" He says. That cuts me and he sees it.
He eats instead of apologizing.
"I'm worried about Gcina", I tell him.
He looks at me, waiting for me to elaborate.
"Gcina is irresponsible. She doesn't know what she wants to do with her life. She couldn't get a matric just to start her off. She lacks vision and ambition. I'm worried that she has decided ukuthi this is the rest of her life."
Qaphela looks at me for a long time, analysing me almost.
Then he says, "Nobantu, you left her with your parents when she was a toddler. She doesn't even remember you being a mother to her. I'm not saying that she shouldn't take responsibility for her decisions, but I'm wondering when you are going to acknowledge the part that you played in messing her up."
"The part that I played?"
"The part that you played, Nobantu. You went to Gauteng and forgot all about your child. She had to get over it, on her own. Her life froze when you decided to go out there and be a wife to a man who wanted nothing to do with your child. You deprived her of having a mother and she just had to figure shit out. You have no right to judge her ten minutes after you come back here and decide to be her mother so many years later. Where was this concern when you were –
"Don’t you dare! I took care of Gcina! There is nothing that Gcina lacked and I made sure of it. I sent her to the best schools and she managed to get herself expelled from those schools. I made sure that she was fed! That she had everything I would have never been able to give her had I not married Thomas because unlike uGcina, my parents did not make sure that I had the best to set me up for the rest of my life. I needed a Thomas to pull me out of the shit that my parents left me in so that my daughter could have more", I have lost my temper now and so has he. This is a screaming match.
"Money is not everything, Nobantu", he says.
"That’s very rich coming from you. You are the same person who left me pregnant at fifteen to go get money so our child and I could be okay, then went to prison. You were absent from our lives too because you chose money over being there for me through my pregnancy and when our daughter was born." I say. This hurts him.
We both take deep breaths, appreciating that perhaps this is not how this conversation should be going.
"I want better for her. She can still change her life and I want her to change her life." I say. I am calm now, walking around in the TV room. Qaphela stands up too and leans against a wall, facing me.
"I want that for her, too" he says.
"I have trusts set up in her name that she is supposed to be accessing by now. I want to buy her a car so she could drive my mom around and do errands for you. But she doesn't even have a license. I have millions set aside for her to study abroad and she can barely finish a bloody matric. Gcinumama frustrates me, Qaphela", I say.
"We can still fix this, but we have to be gentle with her. She's a bit on the fragile side", he says.
"She already hates me so I'm not scared of her. One of us has to treat her like the irresponsible adult that she is. You, on the other hand, she has you wrapped around her little finger", I say.
"Fine. But if you are going to pick that fight with her, you need to be woman enough to acknowledge the part that you played in fucking her up. Don't become your parents, Nobantu. You hurt for years because of them and you took forever to heal because they wouldn't acknowledge how much they fucked you up. Don't become them. Gcina deserves for you to acknowledge the pain that you caused her so that she can heal and move on in a way that you still struggle to because the people who caused your pain have not given you the apology that you need to heal and move on." He says.
We have a moment. I'm getting emotional. He is there for me like he always was when I ran away from home after my parents -
My cellphone rings. I wipe my tears and walk away from him, realizing only now how close he was to me and how close we were to doing so much more than just argue about Gcina. It is my CEO calling.
"Hello", me.
"Hey, Pearl. Where are you? I need you in a strategy meeting taking place at 5pm today. Will you be able to make it?"
"Sure, Richard, I'll be there" I say.
"Thanks. I was in your office to let you know, but I see you are not here", Richard says.
"I had stepped out to get something to eat. But I'll be back soon", I say.
"Alright. See you when you get back", Richard says then hangs up.
Qaphela and I look at each other, silently appreciating what just happened between us.
"You need to get a job", I say.
"No one on this earth is good enough to be the boss of me. I'm almost back in shape and I'm headed back to crime", he says.
"Until when, Qaphela? Why don't you take the money you've made so far and start something legitimate?" I say.
"Why? So you can be the CEO's wife again? That's your life, not mine. And you not my wife so stop telling me what to do. You are not going to change or control me. That's probably why that Venda man left you." He says. That was just unnecessary, honestly. Fuck him.
I wear my heels again then walk out of his parents' house then make my way back to the office.
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