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Late - A Short Story
I was the President and CEO of an investment company and had called an emergency board of directors meeting that I earnestly needed to attend because the fate of the company, all too precariously, lay-at-odds.
Not only was my attendance at this meeting critical but, the timing was also extremely problematic for two-thirds of the board of directors. Not only were they from out-of-state but, they were forced to hastily clear their schedules, book their last-minute airline flights, and had endured an overly-crowded flight into the city for the one-and-only express purpose of attending the emergency meeting.
Not that I was keeping score, but my day had also started off disastrously. For reasons, I have yet to understand, somehow, and for the first time in over fifteen years, I slept through my initial and back-up alarms. At this point, I was incredibly late but, hoping against-all-odds, that if I cut corners and scrambled getting ready I could somehow salvage the day.
To my amazement, it worked and I was now back-on-track and feeling optimistic. I proceeded to pick up my briefcase and headed for the front door. However, it suddenly occurred to me that I had left my cell phone on the kitchen table. I quickly ran back and picked up my phone, and headed back to the front door.
Being an undeniable creature-of-habit, the last thing I did prior to leaving the apartment was to grab my keys. So I reached down to pick up my car keys where I always, and without fail, kept them in a wooden bowl that sat on the foyer table by the front door. Doing this had ensured me that I would never be forced to frantically search for them. However, to my utter dismay, the keys weren't where they were supposed to be. Shocked and now in full-on panic mode, I frantically tried to locate them.
I spent the better part of twenty minutes looking for them, wishing that not unlike, 'Jeannie', from the 1960's television series, 'I Dream of Jeannie', could blink my eyes and nod my head, and the keys would magically appear. However, still no luck.
Sighing heavily, I now knew that I would be irrevocably late. This called for a last-ditch effort, and with this in mind, I called my secretary and asked her to apologize for me and to let the directors know that I was running late and to ask them to hold on for just a little longer.
I spent another excruciating ten or fifteen minutes searching and re-searching for the keys while tearing apart my apartment. I once again came up empty-handed, having no luck, and finding no keys. I had even failed to find my spare set of keys. I wracked my brain, ready to give up the ghost when suddenly the lights came on, and I recalled that I had left my spare set of keys in my gym bag in the trunk of my car.
that I had no way of getting into my car to pop the trunk.
At this point, calling an Uber or taxicab was out of the question because I also needed my keys to lock my apartment door. I could think of no other alternative than to call Triple-A to have them send a locksmith out to unlock my car. From there I could pop the trunk and at least get my spare set of keys.
Knowing that this would further delay me, I, once again, called my office and asked my secretary to profusely apologize for me and to ask the directors if we could further postpone the meeting.
While I nervously waited for the locksmith to arrive, my secretary called me back and advised me that she had ordered lunch for the directors to hopefully assuage any angst that they might be feeling from the delay of the meeting; but, most of them could only give me an additional hour before time to catch their flight back home. It was crucial that the meeting and forthcoming vote would serve only if all the directors were present and had voted.
Regardless of these issues, I momentarily felt optimistic about this arrangement, until time neared and I knew that it would be too late and that even if I wore wings and could fly, I would never make the meeting in time.
I sat with bated breath and on pins-and-needles until Triple-A finally phoned me. The locksmith was in the parking garage waiting at my assigned parking spot, number 17-A27. I hurriedly ran down to meet him.
The locksmith was a burly-looking man with a gruff voice and curt mannerism. He asked me what it was that I needed. I immediately felt perturbed that he hadn't taken the time to check the work order. So, knowing I didn't have time to get cross with the man, I told him that I needed to get into my car to recover my car keys.
He snickered at me and almost howled in laughter, and before I could tell him that it was impolite to laugh no matter how foolish my predicament, he asked me, "Are you looking for several keys on a blue lanyard?" This took me aback momentarily, but, I dumbfoundedly replied, "Yes, how did you know?" He then, almost mockingly, pointed to my chest, and to my chagrin, there the keys were hanging from around my neck. If they were a snake they would have bitten me. I could only imagine that I must have picked them up in my rush the first trip to the front door and had forgotten that I had done so. Ugh...
Recovering from embarrassment, I paid and thanked the man, feeling ridiculously foolish. But, I shook it off and got in my car knowing that most likely I would miss the meeting entirely. I safely drove to the office
knowing that it most likely wouldn't make a difference. At this point, I was merely hoping to possibly meet the patient directors face-to-face to profusely apologize.
Approximately twenty minutes later, I was about four blocks away from the office and I could see that police officials had blocked the streets from passing vehicles and pedestrian traffic. All vehicles were at a full stop and necks and heads were careening. The only movement was that of fire trucks, ambulances, and police officials. Everyone and everything appeared to be moving in slow motion.
What I saw next caused bile to rise from my stomach and into my throat. The salty taste that one gets prior to vomiting welled up in my mouth. Ahead, I could see that my office building and four or five other adjacent buildings were no longer standing, and lay in a pile of bricks and débris. Flames were shooting up and black smoke billowed. It appeared that there had been a massive explosion. Shakingly, right then and there, I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and thanked the Lord for sparing me.
The moral of this story is that we don't always know what our place is in the grand plan or why the Lord spares us while taking others. So, remember that no matter what may come, we must have faith that everything happens for a reason.
d. nelson 05/27/2020
@dawnykins59
@GiGi60[)))
Not only was my attendance at this meeting critical but, the timing was also extremely problematic for two-thirds of the board of directors. Not only were they from out-of-state but, they were forced to hastily clear their schedules, book their last-minute airline flights, and had endured an overly-crowded flight into the city for the one-and-only express purpose of attending the emergency meeting.
Not that I was keeping score, but my day had also started off disastrously. For reasons, I have yet to understand, somehow, and for the first time in over fifteen years, I slept through my initial and back-up alarms. At this point, I was incredibly late but, hoping against-all-odds, that if I cut corners and scrambled getting ready I could somehow salvage the day.
To my amazement, it worked and I was now back-on-track and feeling optimistic. I proceeded to pick up my briefcase and headed for the front door. However, it suddenly occurred to me that I had left my cell phone on the kitchen table. I quickly ran back and picked up my phone, and headed back to the front door.
Being an undeniable creature-of-habit, the last thing I did prior to leaving the apartment was to grab my keys. So I reached down to pick up my car keys where I always, and without fail, kept them in a wooden bowl that sat on the foyer table by the front door. Doing this had ensured me that I would never be forced to frantically search for them. However, to my utter dismay, the keys weren't where they were supposed to be. Shocked and now in full-on panic mode, I frantically tried to locate them.
I spent the better part of twenty minutes looking for them, wishing that not unlike, 'Jeannie', from the 1960's television series, 'I Dream of Jeannie', could blink my eyes and nod my head, and the keys would magically appear. However, still no luck.
Sighing heavily, I now knew that I would be irrevocably late. This called for a last-ditch effort, and with this in mind, I called my secretary and asked her to apologize for me and to let the directors know that I was running late and to ask them to hold on for just a little longer.
I spent another excruciating ten or fifteen minutes searching and re-searching for the keys while tearing apart my apartment. I once again came up empty-handed, having no luck, and finding no keys. I had even failed to find my spare set of keys. I wracked my brain, ready to give up the ghost when suddenly the lights came on, and I recalled that I had left my spare set of keys in my gym bag in the trunk of my car.
that I had no way of getting into my car to pop the trunk.
At this point, calling an Uber or taxicab was out of the question because I also needed my keys to lock my apartment door. I could think of no other alternative than to call Triple-A to have them send a locksmith out to unlock my car. From there I could pop the trunk and at least get my spare set of keys.
Knowing that this would further delay me, I, once again, called my office and asked my secretary to profusely apologize for me and to ask the directors if we could further postpone the meeting.
While I nervously waited for the locksmith to arrive, my secretary called me back and advised me that she had ordered lunch for the directors to hopefully assuage any angst that they might be feeling from the delay of the meeting; but, most of them could only give me an additional hour before time to catch their flight back home. It was crucial that the meeting and forthcoming vote would serve only if all the directors were present and had voted.
Regardless of these issues, I momentarily felt optimistic about this arrangement, until time neared and I knew that it would be too late and that even if I wore wings and could fly, I would never make the meeting in time.
I sat with bated breath and on pins-and-needles until Triple-A finally phoned me. The locksmith was in the parking garage waiting at my assigned parking spot, number 17-A27. I hurriedly ran down to meet him.
The locksmith was a burly-looking man with a gruff voice and curt mannerism. He asked me what it was that I needed. I immediately felt perturbed that he hadn't taken the time to check the work order. So, knowing I didn't have time to get cross with the man, I told him that I needed to get into my car to recover my car keys.
He snickered at me and almost howled in laughter, and before I could tell him that it was impolite to laugh no matter how foolish my predicament, he asked me, "Are you looking for several keys on a blue lanyard?" This took me aback momentarily, but, I dumbfoundedly replied, "Yes, how did you know?" He then, almost mockingly, pointed to my chest, and to my chagrin, there the keys were hanging from around my neck. If they were a snake they would have bitten me. I could only imagine that I must have picked them up in my rush the first trip to the front door and had forgotten that I had done so. Ugh...
Recovering from embarrassment, I paid and thanked the man, feeling ridiculously foolish. But, I shook it off and got in my car knowing that most likely I would miss the meeting entirely. I safely drove to the office
knowing that it most likely wouldn't make a difference. At this point, I was merely hoping to possibly meet the patient directors face-to-face to profusely apologize.
Approximately twenty minutes later, I was about four blocks away from the office and I could see that police officials had blocked the streets from passing vehicles and pedestrian traffic. All vehicles were at a full stop and necks and heads were careening. The only movement was that of fire trucks, ambulances, and police officials. Everyone and everything appeared to be moving in slow motion.
What I saw next caused bile to rise from my stomach and into my throat. The salty taste that one gets prior to vomiting welled up in my mouth. Ahead, I could see that my office building and four or five other adjacent buildings were no longer standing, and lay in a pile of bricks and débris. Flames were shooting up and black smoke billowed. It appeared that there had been a massive explosion. Shakingly, right then and there, I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and thanked the Lord for sparing me.
The moral of this story is that we don't always know what our place is in the grand plan or why the Lord spares us while taking others. So, remember that no matter what may come, we must have faith that everything happens for a reason.
d. nelson 05/27/2020
@dawnykins59
@GiGi60[)))
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