It was the end of October. Nisida san was humming in an ecstatic tune and constantly smiling apropos of nothing all day. What was the meaning of this ostentatious happiness? It was very easy to explain indeed, since today was her last day of the three month-nightmares. In fact, she was so generous from the morning. She brought café mocha for me from Starbucks because she knew that I love it.
To my great surprise, she openly displayed her hatred toward Mr. Virgin all day and told me how much she abhorred him as aloud as a megaphone. She screamed, “Shogo san, at last I no longer need to see Mr. Virgin anymore. I’m so relieved. At last I’m free from the eternal torture. The past three months has been a sheer torture for me. I’ve never seen such a mean creature in any work environments. Do you know whom I’m talking about, of course?” Here she did not forget to slip a horse-wink on me and carried on at the top of her voice, “I want you to know that Mr. Virgin is the smallest man whom I’ve ever come across in my life. I hate his silly pride to my guts. And to cap it all, this extremely boring job was almost killing me; I was almost going to be out of my mind. Thank God, today is the last day for me to see his know-it-all grin. Anyway, please be careful, Shogo san, and do not forget to quite the job before it drives you crazy.”
At 5:30 p.m. sharp, she gathered all her belongings and approached Mr. Virgin’s desk the very last time, with a half-smile on her lips. She gave a deep bow ceremoniously and announced vengefully, “Thank you so much for tormenting me with your eternal meanness and disgusting parsimony.” And she wished once more to show him how little she cared. She strutted through the general office, like a supermodel passing through a bunch of fervid aficionados, yes, and she even dug her little finger into her ear as she went. Nobody could show more superiority.