She halts, looks at RonCo, and dabs a crumb of her cob salad from the corner of her lip. “Mr. Little is a little strange,” she says. “Have you ever seen Groundhog Day?”
“Bill Murray? Andie McDowell? Punxsutawney Phil?”
“That’s the one.”
“Great flick,” RonCo says. “I always love how he steps into the puddle.”
“Well,” Washington says … then settles into the following little tale.
“Fascinating,” RonCo says, sipping the last of his coffee. “Is all that true?”For John Little, every day is the same. The clock strikes 6:00AM, and the radio plays “I Got You Babe.” The shower gets steamy, the teeth get brushed, and the hair combed back in a precise Pat Riley. On goes the business slacks and penny loafers, the crisp white button down and the red argyle sweater and the black bow tie.
Breakfast is a poached egg on toast, with orange juice and bacon—two strips, not four. Coffee from the silver carafe. White napkin left in place to the left of the plate.
He arrives at the office at 6:55 flat, not a moment earlier nor a moment later.
A check of the finances. Gold all in place. Investments secure.
Then the computer goes on, and he calls up his email program and types:
Personal Message From Owner John Little: New Goals, he writes in the Subject. Dear Ron, Welcome to the Yellow Springs Nine Organization. I trust that our working relationship will be a good one. I would like to take some time to evaluate the outlook of the team. Once that has been completed, I should have seen enough to have some ideas for you to work on. He spaces twice, and then signs the missive: John Little
At this point his administrative assistant points to the clock, which she has strategically reset to read 8:45 PM, and says “My goodness, Mr. Little. It’s getting late. Shouldn’t you be going home?”
John Little then makes some off-hand quip about burning the midnight oil, but gets up and goes home (where another assistant has again reset the clocks), and the process starts all over again.
“Either it’s true or Little’s a prick who doesn’t want you to forget he’s in charge,” Washington responds, arms crossed. “Which one do you want to believe?”
