ABHIMANYU WORLD

Chapter LXVI: Intimidation

Bruock!

A stack of files was dropped on my desk just like that by Mr. Imron, a one-piece co-worker. The middle-aged, flat-bodied man was more like a sickle. His eyes were sunken, his lips blackened from smoking too much. Some of her hair is bleached. His speech is senior-ass, especially if you're talking to me.

Because he is an older man and indeed a senior, I still respect him even though in my heart began to grow seeds of aggravation. As a senior, he should have directed more, not grumbled. When I made a mistake, he reprimanded in front of the crowd, making me feel worthless. Honestly, this old man made the mood fall apart all day. The work spirit I nurtured slowly molested.

“Don't forget to clear the table before the break! If you work carelessly here, guaranteed not to last long!” mister Imron grumbled as he sat down chugging the black coffee in a cup.

“Iya Sir!” answer me while tidying up the files and stationery that are still scattered on the table.

“Let's finish mine please huh?” pinta Mr. Imron.

“Sorry Sir. I fear my work will not be completed. You see much I have to finish today.” I reasoned.

“You have a lot to learn! Work should be fast. Don't dabble!”

Lazy-bashy? Is it not reversed?

I'm speechless. I better not respond to people who like this coachman debate. Inexhaustible, why companies can recruit people like this model, as if in this world there are no more reliable human resources.

Indeed, the average employee of this company is old. Maybe I'm the youngest one here, so they like to make a whole lot of noise. Fortunately they told me things that were related to work, not to make coffee or sweep the floor.

The fate of juniors in the world of work is almost the same. Seniors always feel themselves worthy of respect. Their attitudes were mostly arrogant, haughty, and demented. The work ethic is very concerning. They sit more, smoke, talk and things I think are less necessary. I think this is some kind of hereditary culture inherent in this company.

“Bi, can I go to my office?” suddenly, Ms. Roffi's voice came as a surprise as I focused on doing tasks in front of the computer.

“Good Bu.” Like any new employee, I obeyed the manager's mother's orders.

It's not usual for Ms. Roffi to call me. His heart was pounding, worried that there was some work wrong or some other mistake I made.

I timidly entered his office that was fragrant. Artistically, offices that are inhabited by men and women are of course different. A woman's office has a higher sense of art than a man's. Wide-leaved ornamental plants arranged beautifully near the window. Everything looks neat, eye-catching.

“Let me have lunch, Bi,” take Bu Roffi.

The deg!

Doing that doesn't necessarily make me happy. I even feel bad. I was just an ordinary intern who was intending to explore the knowledge in this company, but was suddenly asked to accompany lunch by a manager. Worse, the manager is female. Maybe this will cause social jealousy or trigger bird news.

“But we already got lunch rations, Bu” my pretext.

“Ah, lunch is just that - it's long bored. I want to enjoy the food outside. I rarely eat out. Looking for an opportunity. Later accompany me, anyway hours of rest!” ma'am Roffi's orders.

“But Mom, I will later ...”

“This is an order, Bi!” cut off Bu Roffi while looking at me sharply.

If I had used the ultimate weapon like that, there was nothing else I could do but shut up. After all, a superior must be obeyed by his orders. I was worried that the rejection would have a bad effect on the value of my practical work.

“Good Bu!” replied doubtfully.

Surely my guess. When I got out of Ms. Roffi's office, I was immediately confronted by a number of hostile gazes from senior employees. Maybe they think no. Really, there was actually a sense of unease, but what was my day? I'm just a KW2 employee who can't dwell if the boss gives orders.

I hope it's not as bad as I imagined.

“A minute, Sir!” my answer. I'll drop some files to rework soon.

“Why were you called? Want to add a salary? Or been on a date?” that old man's cutie.

Athaghfirullah!

I choose not to answer. Whatever I do in the manager's office is certainly not his business and I have the right to be quiet. Mr. Imron's cynical views are intimidating, but I don't care.

“Cube knows yes, Bi!” Mr. Imron suddenly brought his chair closer to me. Half whispering he started to tell. There was a sense of unease when Mr. Imron was so close.

“Don't get too close to Bu Roffi. He is notoriously flirtatious. Every brondong or handsome young employee must be approached with him. Understandably, she is a widow with children. Her husband married again. So jablay him it,” whispered Mr. Imron.

Athaghfirullah!

Imron sir, why do you worship?

There is a sentence that had intrigued me. ‘ handsome young employees’. I fit into that criterion. Good then.

Secretly, Mr. Imron's sentence was quite disturbing my curiosity. Does the widow Bu Roffi really have children? Her husband married again? Is he interesting enough? The most curious, does he really like to approach brondong?

Ah, why do I think of that?

However, the phrase imron similar toxic that radiates to the nervous system, makes me think a lot of negative. I better focus on the job. If what Mr. Imron says is true then I must start to increase alertness, do not fall into the trap of love Bu Roffi.

Actually, if examined more deeply, this Roffi Bu is slang type and friendly, easily familiar with anyone. Maybe because it is too friendly, there are some people who think negatively about him, then deliberately spread hoaxes about his personal life. Besides, I am a learned student, I do not deserve to swallow the sentence spoken by Mr. Imron. It may be that Mr. Imron's love was rejected by Ms. Roffi, so he made up a fake story so that I wouldn't get close.

Yeah, who knows?

But on another occasion, I caught Bu Roffi daydreaming for a long time like he was breaking a tangled thread in his mind. Is he really thirsty for male love? Or as Mr. Imron said earlier, he even needs a man's caress.

I'm not good at stroking. Really am.

I decided to go back to immersing myself in work without writing Mr. Imron's story. It is unethical for a subordinate to talk about such superior ugliness. Especially when attacking his personal life.

When Mr. Imron approached again, I deliberately avoided, not wanting to dwell on the lies he created. While working I ignored Mr. Imron who was engrossed in stories about Bu Roffi's ugliness. I was so excited to see this. What am I supposed to do? Or should I just splash the tea on his face?

“Bapak is done working?” chirping.

“Let me do it! Ntar is also done. You don't have to set me up!” replied Mr. Imron with a huff.

“I'm busy, sir. Later, sir said that when I was not busy. Or if you want to reckon with the story, yes it's okay, but I'm not horrified,” said me with a huff.

Mr. Imron fell silent for a moment. Maybe he regretted telling me.

“Don't tell Bu Roffi what I told you!” threaten Mr. Imron.

Unfortunately the threatening event did not scare me at all. Mr. Imron does not yet know that an Abhimanyu can turn into a nightmare if his demon horn starts to appear. I can tear this company apart with its contents.

“I'll tell Bu Roffi!” my smirk.

***