Time

Bruce Truman sat in his office, his feet propped up against an enormous mahogany desk and humming a tune he didn’t remember right. Outside the door, his secretary was busy polishing her finger nails a bright fire-engine red, ignoring the ringing telephone beside her.

Just when the call was on the throes of being disconnected, Janet picked up the telephone. It was a skill she had perfected over the course of two years she had been working for Bruce.

“Mr. Truman’s office. What can we not do for you today?”

She took out her notepad from under the pile of files on her desk, and started doodling.

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh. I am sorry, but I kinda lost track of what you were saying. Can you repeat that for me? Thank you, sir. We are very professional around here. I’ll inform Mr. Truman that you called, sir. Have a good day.”

She entered the office and stood there doodling until she head Bruce stop humming.

“Hey, Janet. Can you find out what I am humming? I can’t quite figure it out.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Truman. Not much of a music gal myself. It makes me want to kill myself.”
“Huh. Okay. Keep an ear out anyway. It’s been toying with my mind for the last 3 days. I haven’t been able to get anything done.”
“Alright, Mr. Truman.” She showed him her notebook. “What do you think about this?”

In the center of the page was a small black circle; the most perfect circle Bruce had seen his entire life. It was impossible to tell from where she had begun to draw it – it was too perfect.

“Free hand?”
“Free hand,” Janet smirked.
“Wow. You’ve outdone yourself. Remind me to give you a rise. Give me that notebook now. I want to try.”

After an hour of drawing circles that never came close to matching Janet’s, Bruce gave up. Bruce always knew when to take a break.

“You can have this round, darling. But remember who beat you on parallelograms.”
“Oh, I try not to,” she smiled and rose to leave.

Just as she neared the doorway, she remembered what she had come in for. “Mr. Truman, Bob Becker from Becker’s Beverages called. He wanted you at his office right away.”
“Thanks, Janet. I’ll go meet him after lunch. Close the door behind you, will you? And hold all my calls.”

Almost two hours later, Bruce emerged out, with his mouth at the risk of tearing at the edges on account of the huge grin it was sporting. He closed the door which read:

BRUCE TRUMAN

CONSULTING PRO

and stood in front of Janet like a kid who had gotten an A in mathematics for the first time.

“What are you so happy about, Mr. Truman? I thought I had done enough to ruin your day.”
“This,” he replied and put down a sheet of paper in front of her. On it was her perfect circle, only bigger and in red. “What have I told you, Janet? There is nothing you can’t accomplish in this world with a lot of time and a shitload of patience.” The shock hadn’t quite left her face.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go get lunch and then meet with a client.”

—-

By the time Bruce pulled up in front of Bob Becker’s office, he was over six hours late. The two men who were waiting for him couldn’t have been happier.

“Come in, Bruce. We have been waiting for you a long time,” Bob said and cheerfully shook Bruce’s hand.
“My pleasure, Bob. I have a reputation to uphold, don’t I?”
“You certainly do a good job,” the other voice said. “I am Josh, Mr. Becker’s attorney. I have to tell you, Mr. Truman. I underestimated you. Men of your reputation usually turn out to be underwhelming. My sincerest apologies, you are quite something.”
“No problem,” Bruce said, and turned to Bob. “Now that you’ve done enough waiting already, what can I not do for you?”
“We have a problem, Bruce. Or I think we do. We are coming out with a new energy drink by the end of this week. No problem there. But we just head from our stock supervisor that our existing energy drink is still not sold out. By his calculations, it will take 4 weeks for it. The thing is, if we come out with the new drink now, nobody will buy the older one. I might just be paranoid, but Josh here had the same idea. Can you help us out here, Bruce?”
“Four weeks, huh? That’s a lot of time, Bob.”
“Yeah, I know. My research team is done with their work. There is no way for them to make any changes to the drink and delay the release. It’s all in your hands now.”

Bruce walked over to the window and resumed humming the tune he had been butchering all day.

“Okay. Why don’t you swing by my office tomorrow morning and I will see what I can do for you?”
“Thanks, Bruce. At what time?”
“After lunch should be fine.”
“I thought he said morning,” Josh wondered aloud.
“I sure did.” Bruce smiled and walked out of the room with his hands in his pockets, a picture of leisurely delight.
“He’s good, isn’t he?”

—-

When Bruce walked into his office the next afternoon, they were already waiting for him.

“I see you’ve brought Josh along as well.”
“What can I say? The boy has a crush on you.”
“No, Mr. Truman. I…” Josh began, but stopped abruptly.
“Hey, Bruce. Nice to see that you have finally started working on getting your title on the door. The last time I was here, it simply raid ‘CON’,” said Bob and gave out a roaring laughter.
“About time, yeah?”
“Anyway, please tell me you have something of use for me. I haven’t slept since that nap I had waiting for you.”
“Colors.”
“Colors?”
“Colors. As simple as that.”
“But that’s the thing, Bruce. It’s too simple. How long will it take to pick three colors for the drink? We need something bigger.”
“Not if you let me be in charge of picking them.”
“Oh.”

That “Oh.” was the only thing Bruce expected from his clients. It was the sound of triumph.

“It might just work, right? Josh?” The man beside him was too much in love to pay attention to words. “Guess that’s a yes. I will send you the first color by Tuesday, Bob. You sleep well.”
“Thank you, Bruce. You have no idea how much headache this is going to save me. Hey, I noticed you have a picture of Jesus on your desk. I didn’t know you were that religious.”
“Well, I am not. He is just my inspiration for getting into this line of work. You think he couldn’t have burst open out of that coffin on the first day? Time, Bob. Time.”


The two men shook their heads in disbelief and walked out of the room grinning from ear to ear. Behind them, the door beside Bruce bore a completed title for the first time:

BRUCE TRUMAN

CONSULTING PROCRASTINATOR