Getting My Documents Validated
One Friday, I asked my school principal to validate a set of my
photocopied academic certificates. He flipped through the documents cursorily
and put them on his desk. Instead of signing the documents, he asked me to tidy
up his office. I had no choice but to follow his instruction. I swept the
floor, mounted framed certificates on the walls and rearranged the books on the
shelves. When I had finished doing these menial jobs, I returned to his desk.
He smiled and beckoned me to sit down. I was hoping that he would sign my
certificates immediately, but out of the blue, he removed his laptop from his
bag and began to type. My jaw almost dropped.
Just as I was about to remind him to certify my documents, there was a knock on the door. A smartly dressed man came in and greeted the principal in a deep, booming voice. In a gush of politeness, the principal stood up and asked the visitor to sit in front of him. I had to let him take my seat and relegate myself to a chair beside a trophy cabinet which stood catty-corner from the principal’s desk. Having exchanged formalities, they talked about their daily trifles with utter disregard for my presence. Occasionally, they burst into thunderous laughter. Men with a high social standing tend to laugh like that. When the visitor brought up the subject of our school’s marching band, the principal’s eyes brightened, and he waxed lyrical about it at length. I kept reminding myself to be patient.
When the visitor left, I was filled with relief. The principal motioned for me to return to the seat in front of him. However, he gave me one more unrelated job to do. I complied with his request. I picked up a newspaper from his desk and read some news aloud to him. After listening to me read five news articles, he nodded in satisfaction and scratched the little stubble under his chin. He finally signed the documents.
To get what you want, sometimes you have to be as servile as a lap dog. Looking back, I am ashamed of myself.
Just as I was about to remind him to certify my documents, there was a knock on the door. A smartly dressed man came in and greeted the principal in a deep, booming voice. In a gush of politeness, the principal stood up and asked the visitor to sit in front of him. I had to let him take my seat and relegate myself to a chair beside a trophy cabinet which stood catty-corner from the principal’s desk. Having exchanged formalities, they talked about their daily trifles with utter disregard for my presence. Occasionally, they burst into thunderous laughter. Men with a high social standing tend to laugh like that. When the visitor brought up the subject of our school’s marching band, the principal’s eyes brightened, and he waxed lyrical about it at length. I kept reminding myself to be patient.
When the visitor left, I was filled with relief. The principal motioned for me to return to the seat in front of him. However, he gave me one more unrelated job to do. I complied with his request. I picked up a newspaper from his desk and read some news aloud to him. After listening to me read five news articles, he nodded in satisfaction and scratched the little stubble under his chin. He finally signed the documents.
To get what you want, sometimes you have to be as servile as a lap dog. Looking back, I am ashamed of myself.
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