Everyday Psychopaths

  ***

  The next day at work I find the new employee, Mindy, in the company lobby. She looks excited and she should be. Maybe the success of getting a job with us has sunken in. She rises from the chair and I stretch out my hand.

  “Good morning, Molly,” I say, intentionally the wrong name. She has to understand how hard she needs to fight to win my respect.

  “Mindy,” she corrects me. She's slightly offended I didn't remember it. Good.

  “My assistant Angela will set you up with everything you need, take 15 minutes to look through the company manual - that's our bible, the IT-guys will provide you with a new computer and we'll have Jim over there - I point to the young and red-headed creative director I got very cheaply two years ago - will give you all the background and briefs you need to get started.” I look her in the eyes and smile.

  Then from somewhere deep down in Desperation Land, I say this:

  “I suggest you and I have lunch. Let's meet 12:15 outside the office. I'll have Angela reserve a table for us.” I say this, but I don't really know why I'm saying it. It just struck me as a good idea all of a sudden. Maybe it's Mindy's looks that's doing this to me, because she's absolutely stunning today in a black mid-length business skirt and a white shirt, or maybe I’m just lonely.

  “Sounds good,” Mindy says, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't.