A Life

Description

Friday evening. Kolya Petrov’s faithful girlfriend had gone to her fitness class to preserve her wonderful figure, and his colleagues had scattered in every direction. In short, in the traditional Friday spirit, there was once again no one to drink with.
Kolyunya wasn’t especially bothered by this. Good news about his promotion wouldn’t allow his mood to be clouded, and the five-minutes-from-now manager had made the “responsible” decision to treat himself to expensive beer (I can afford it!) in the company of himself, lying at home on the sofa.
A very sunny mixture of thoughts swirled in his head: about career advancement, about quality alcohol, about Marinka’s lovely figure, and about the inevitable envy of those around him. For some reason, the thought that people envied him was no less warming than all the rest.
Out of nowhere came the memory of a conversation at an old job interview — the one that had decided whether Kolya got hired. He’d been asked, as a candidate for the position of sales representative, where he saw himself in five years with the company. He had said: department head. It had sounded so unconvincing that he had nothing to do but blush at the ironic smiles of his interviewers. What had stung most was the “hmm, is that right” from Kateryna, head of HR.
“Nasty piece of work,” thought Kolya.

He used to recall that interview with a heavy feeling. Undistinguished, poorly dressed. The words came out wrong and often at the wrong moment. That day, Kolya had received not only the coveted job, but also a biting nickname: “The Manager.” Every person who used it seemed to pour as much irony into the word as they possibly could. Kolya endured it. Seethed. Tried to joke back, and it came out terribly.
But four years had passed. Not five — four! And Kolya was almost a department head. So now all of that was remembered quite differently. The young man imagined himself walking into HR, writing the long-awaited words “order noted” on the paper confirming his appointment.
And at the same time, he would be laying it on thick with Katyushka — as he intended to call her from now on — praising her foresight with maximum irony. After all, it was she who had stuck the “Manager” label on him, and then the others had picked it up.
“I’ll have to tell her that the only thing more impressive than her foresight is her humility. And that I simply cannot stay silent about it and will absolutely bring her up in conversation with the department director!! Let the bitch stress about what exactly I might be saying about her,” thought Kolya.

The warm glow in his stomach at the thought of how he would grind down the people who had hurt him carried the future manager’s feet all the way to the craft beer shop.
“I’ll get the most expensive one. I can afford it,” thought Kolya. Which one that was, he had no idea. Up until today, necessity had meant buying the two-litre plastic bottles of cheap discounted beer from the supermarket. But that was then. Everything was different now.