Large ice blue eyes towered over my head, bullying me into accepting his reality. Of course, I nodded, agreed, appeased. 

I changed the accounting codes facilitating the theft of expensive cases of wine. The whole company set its sharp teeth against my unwillingness to let him steal. My thoughts about his "reality" rumbled like angry thunder through my hidden emotions, causing my face to tick as I typed. An hour later I left my bookkeeping job and went to my second job as a clerk at a small store. My anger was still smouldering, grumbling, muttering, clouding my world in a tense masked rage.

I pulled on my red work shirt, as I left the bathroom. There was a Rolex watch on the sink. I looked at the watch, soaking in the way the second hand moved. Looking at the lines. Emotions and thoughts like corroded gears struggled to find some sort of agreement. 

Curiosity was present- I had never seen a Rolex. 

Fear was there- the same fear I felt about my dad's guitar as a child. 

A smile, a giggle, a bitter gurgle of glee poured from my heart because I enjoyed the misfortune of a fortunate man.

Of course, a Rolex belongs to a privileged man, just like the one who just stomped all over my honor because he wanted free expensive wine. Why should I help such a person by securing his watch for him?

Honor.

I don't even want to touch this demon possessed piece of metal. Who could wear such a thing, when so many people are in desperate need? When so many people struggle just to live?

Idiot left his watch. 

It's probably a fake. The second-hand runs a bit rough. 

"Dave, there's a Rolex on the back sink," I told my supervisor. He was in the middle of talking about the weather, all the ice, all the snow, all the roads, and couldn't be bothered. My bitterness rejoiced that he couldn't hear me. Why would he listen? He doesn't have to listen to me.

Later when the owner of the watch called, someone else answered, and asked me if I'd seen the watch. 

"Yea, I saw it. It's on the back sink." I said. The man on the other side of the phone apparently heard me say this. Later he described me as "screaming it." I went back and looked, but the watch was gone by then. The watch loser became angry and blamed me for not keeping his watch safe. I felt powerful, satisfied, even happy when I hung up on him.

He called back.

"I want to see the store camera footage" he demanded.

"There is camera footage, but you will have to speak to the supervisor. I don't have access to it." I said. 

"You don't have access to it," he said. "When will he be in?" 

"Tomorrow, maybe around seven," I said. Then I hung up on him again. I giggled internally.

He phoned again and again. We quit answering the phone. I left early because I didn't feel like submitting myself to a face to face interaction where he would let me know how stupid he thought I was. 

He came as I expected, and bullied the night shift worker into giving him the owner's phone number, and he called the owner in the middle of the night. The next day I explained all of this to the owner and apologised for not handling this well. I wrote a statement. He checked the video footage and saw an upper-class man pocket the watch from the sink after I walked past it a dozen times. 

I'm certain the owner knew how I felt, why I did what I did. 

"Next time, don't say anything. You never saw anything" he advised. I had caused him a lot of trouble. I'm sorry for that most of all.

Now that all of this has blown over (I hope), I lament not doing the right thing and securing the watch. On any other day, I would have. Why was I tested in such a way, on this day, while my bitterness and anger were still so raw?

Or am I always like this, but have become used to it?

This is the main reason why I'm quitting my "good" job. Daily wounds bleed bile into my life, twisting my kindness into sarcasm, my joy into bitterness. I don't want to be this way. Cut it off, before it becomes who I am. 

I might become very poor in the near future.