He Deserves No Sympathy

Warmth. It had finally returned to the water that flowed out of the hot water tap. Enough for Kenneth to fill a bathtub with. Warm enough that he wanted to sit in it for a while instead of shower as he usually would. He could always shower after work. The geyser was fixed and so was the electricity. As he gradually sunk his body into the water, he could feel the warm water loosening the tension in his body, like every skin cell was being massaged.

It was just a bad morning after all.

Even, the sun was out. Its light shone through the bathroom window, forcing Kenneth to adjust himself in the tub he wouldn’t be blinded. Though the sun shone bright and true, it’s heat didn’t affect the temperature under the cold front passing through Johannesburg. As bitter as the cold was, it could not compare to the sweetness of freshly boiled Rooibos tea, which he paired it with eggs, toast and bacon. He savoured every bite of his breakfast. There was no need to run down fifteen flights of stairs today.

The salaryman sauntered out of his apartment with a full stomach, jacket, and optimism in hand. Determined to make up for that muck up of a day he had yesterday, he entered the elevator determined to let his fifteen-flight descent be only downer of the day.

He had not checked social media since last night and he did not plan to. Mankind’s tendency to focus on the negative things said about them made it a bad idea to open any of those applications. Looking back on his Instagram and Twitter binge, he could recall more people sympathising with him than maliciously mocking him. And that one thread about messing with him surely did not mean anything with the entire discourse in mind.

The atmosphere at work seemed completely different today. Air-conditioning was not responsible for the chill he felt going in there. His co-workers snuck glances at him when he went to the kitchen and pointed in his direction when they though he didn’t notice. The traffic at the door of his department swarmed like ants around spilled food. People who had never given him the time of day since he was hired at Smithy’s greeted him as he collected their files. When delivering the quarterly reports to the sales department, a short, stocky man Kenneth had often seen there often, but who had never said a word to him, stopped him before he left and asked to take a picture.

“My son wouldn’t believe it when I told him that I work with Miserable Morning Man.”

Even Victor, who, in the past, would not have noticed if Kenneth walked into the filing room on fire, now would occasionally look up at him. Not long enough to be a stare, but long enough to make Kenneth uncomfortable.

He never knew how exhausting having people’s attention was. Coffee felt like an option for the first time in ages, so he decided to get some in the staff kitchen. In the kitchen, Kenneth found plastic spoons, coffee creamer and coffee on the pot. Everything but the sugar. The three other men were also in the kitchen were congregating in the corner drinking from coffee mugs and laughing at something Kenneth couldn’t hear.

“Hey,” Kenneth called at them, “Do you know where the sugar is? I can’t find it anywhere.”

The one of the three with a beard and hair tied in a ponytail rounded on Kenneth and held out a plastic container.

“Sorry,” he said. “I forgot to put it back in the drawer. You can have it.”

Kenneth approached the man and took the container from him.

“This looks different to the normal sugar container we have here, right?” Kenneth remarked.

“That’s because it is. Someone must have stolen or misplaced the last one. This is the one we use now,” shrugged the man.

Kenneth returned the shrug and poured the sugar into the coffee. The taste of the coffee was so bitter Kenneth could feel it in his jaw. He must have made a face because all three of the men in the corner were laughing at him. One of them was holding up his phone like he was recording. The very same one who handed Kenneth what he had deduced must have been salt, walked up to Kenneth and offered him a handshake.

“Sorry man, it was just a prank. Don’t mean harm by it.”

Is this how it’s going to be now? How long until this all blows over? If it does, indeed, blow over.

Ignoring the handshake offer, Kenneth poured the coffee into the sink drain and marched back to his desk. The declarations that it was “just a joke,” and that Kenneth was “taking it too seriously” by the kitchen group continued until they were out of earshot. Their laughter continued all the while which cemented the fact that they were not laughing with him, they were laughing at him.

Increasingly, the temptation to go on social media tugged at Kenneth, compelling his hands to reach in his pocket for his phone. What were they saying on there that made people feel it was okay to mess with him at work? His mind returned to that post on Twitter.

“I want him to have a bad day everyday…”

The words ran through his head. The internet had become real for him. Social media was no longer just a world of boasts and blunders, arguments and attention-seeking. A world so far from him that it did not require even tiny bit of his attention. It was affecting his work life, and soon maybe other aspects of his life. It had become essential for Kenneth be up to date with what was being said about him.

Kenneth had the foresight to bookmark the post on Twitter that had troubled him so. It took not time to sift through a near empty bookmarks folder. Though, in truth he did it quickly as possible as there was a fair share of not-safe-for-work material in there, and he did not know when someone would walk behind him as see it.

Devastation etched itself onto his face. The tweet's likes had nearly doubled, the comments were exploding in number. He also found that he was on trending tab. The nickname the internet had given in was at the very top. Two spots below on the trending topics was “Kenneth Mashaba.”

They know my name…

That was hardly the worst of it.

Once he pressed on the topic of his name, his entire world came crashing down. A post in response to someone saying it was wrong to want Kenneth to have bad days, exposed his criminal record. It was a photo of Kenneth coming out of his apartment, a screenshot of an article about the crime that put him in prison, and another screenshot of another article that read his sentencing.

The article’s headlines read:

“Drunken Teenager Kills Four Kids in Car Crash.”

“Five Years Prison Sentence For Matriculant in Kid Killing Collision.”

The Twitter post itself read:

THIS MAN IS OWED NO ONES SYMPATHY!