Bad Things Always Happen to the Good People- Analogy of Hector

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Bad Things Always Happen to the Good People- Analogy of Hector

Summer has always been my favorite season. The long days and short nights, warm temperatures, getting together with friends and family, fun activities, and the relaxation everyone seems to get from the slow rhythm of these three months bubbles my joie de vivre. Well, one summer ago, I got a fantastic opportunity to work as a personal assistant for a family friend whose other assistant had gone for her maternity leave. I would hold this position till the school’s reopened for the fall semester. I was thrilled to get this position since it meant I would move to California as the Law firm our family friend works in was set up there. My mother implored me not to go so far away. She tried to lure me into staying by promising me gifts such as a new car but the experience of working in a law firm in Los Angeles was more enthralling (Pg. 543: Book XXII: 74-75). Moreover, the fact that I did not have to wait tables in the scorching sun was enthralling. I could not wait!

After arriving in the multi-specialty law firm, I was quickly introduced to the team I would join. This team comprised of the secretary, the personal assistant (me), five paralegals and a three law interns. This team worked for Tim Jones, a criminal defense lawyer who also happened to be the family friend. During my orientation, it was made known to me that nothing but my best was required, I had to be well-organized and disciplined. Everything I did was linked to the success of the organization. After two hours in the firm, I knew that the success of the firm was everything. Everyone drummed it in, from the interns to the paralegals, to Mr. Jones himself. My responsibilities included managing Mr. Jones’ diaries, meetings, and appointments, preparing his reports, handling the biometric attendance system database, and organizing his work in the tray. I was being paid by the hour and therefore had to bill my hours. I was on a grace period of three days, and in these three days, the former P.A. would show me how the job was done. By the end of the third day, I had taken up the duties. I did not find it difficult but sometimes I had to stay long nights while Jones worked. I did not mind this since I would bill this and get paid for overtime.

After the first two weeks, I got used to my new job. I did not stand in awe every morning marveling at the height of this building that held the law offices, neither did the vastness of the lounge at the entrance make me feel tiny and insignificant. I enjoyed walking on the luxurious plush carpeting that covered the floors of the firm. The first days had been a little dull as I did not have any friends and had to work for long hours. However, after a fortnight, I had metamorphosed into a social butterfly and was starting to enjoy the summer in Los Angeles. During the weekend, my colleagues would take on a tour of the city and hang out at the Marina Del Rey Beach. Mr. Jones had commended my work and said that he would always find a slot for me to fill when on school breaks. Moreover, he would find me a job after school due to the proper working ethics I displayed. The summer had never been better than this. However, I did not know that this would be short-lived.

The interconnectivity of our work made Jack Riley and me very close. He was Mr. Jones’ secretary and had been helpful in my settling in at the firm. I had grown to trust him and sooner than later, we were hanging out after work. Jack Riley energetic and vivacious, he lit up our office. Unlike other people in the office, Riley did not mind sharing his staplers, paper clip, and files. However, this generosity almost always led to his tools of work missing. He would then result in using mine. We developed a fine friendship and later on, one of the paralegals, Michael Smith, joined in on the friendship. We would have lunch together and

One warm Friday afternoon, when the office was slowly grinding to a halt to usher in the weekend, Michael strolled to my desk to check on me about the weekend’s plans. He found me updating the database on billable hours for all employees in Tom Jones’ office. He was inquisitive about the working of the database. I explained to him just as I had been taught. He then asked if it would be possible to alter these hours and if one would be caught. I was surprised at this question since I had never thought of robbing the firm, He seemed to notice my shock and quickly brushed it off my laughing and said that he was just curious. I forgot about this, and we quickly resumed into our conversation about plans that weekend. Jack Riley then entered the office and walked straight to us smiling asking what he agreed upon. Smith told him that we had made plans that evening and that he was invited. Since our boss was absent that Friday, Riley suggested that we leave the office early. I told him that it would not be possible since the FRID devices would easily show that we left work early. Smith then lit up and told me that since I worked with the database, I would only tamper it this once to cover our backs. I was reluctant at first, but after some convincing, I decided to do it this one time. I knew it wrong, but I did not want to fail my friends. I tried talking Smith out of this, but he was reluctant. Just like Hector had talked to his brother Paris in a bid to make him return Helen to Menelaus King of Sparta, I explained the consequences of this deed to Smith, but he stated that he would take the blame for it if trouble arose (131. Book III: 69-98).

The following Monday, I reported to work as usual. Like other Mondays, I was swamped with work, and the office telephone was continuously ringing with new clients looking for Mr. Jones. Mondays were always busy and the hours flew by so quickly that I did not realize it was five already. Today I was working late because I wanted to clear Mr. Jones’ tray before he came in the next day. It would not be a bad evening since Smith and Riley were keeping me company. However, as night approached, I realized I had not seen them yet. At eight pm, I was done with my workload and decided to leave for home. As I passed Riley’s and Smith’s cleared desks, I knew they had left for the night. This baffled me for they had not clocked out in the biometrics system. I called Riley as I checked out of work,

“Hello, I thought you guys were working late tonight?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. We forgot to inform you. We stepped out for a quick drink then one thing led to another, we could not make it back to the office. You know what to do, don’t ya?”

Riley’s answer froze me as I walked out of the firm’s revolving doors. My mind raced as I heard those words. My throat was dry with apprehension, I grunted some words and hung up. “What had I got myself into?” I asked myself as I hailed a cab.

Bad news travels fast. Soon, the other seven employees in Mr. Jones office knew about this incidence and smiled politely when they saw me. One evening, two paralegals approached me and asked me to do whatever it is I do to the systems and show that they had billed in more hours. I could not say no since I knew that denying their request would land me in big trouble. Just like Hector had rushed to announce that his brother Paris would fight King Menelaus to end the war, I thought that things would get better if I accepted to bill in more hours for everyone (pg. 125: Book III: 910-930). I, therefore, billed in more hours for all the people in the office hoping that the summer would end before I got caught.

That week, Mr. Jones asked to shut his office door and asked me about the billing and why there had been an increased expenditure on wages in his particular office. I told him that I did not know anything about it, but I knew that my pink face, sweaty palms, and tremor in voice had given it all away. I could not concentrate on my work, and could not get anything right. Mr. Jones told me to help prepare the conference room since there would be an inquest into the matter by the firm’s finance department. It was just routine to ensure that there was nothing fishy going on. Everyone would be questioned about their working hours and whether or not they clocked in and out at the right time.

After I heard the words “inquest,” I knew that this would be over for me. Later that fateful Thursday, Smith came to talk to me and assured me that he would defend me. Due to my naivety, I believed him. Later on, I realized that just as Athena had tricked Hector by disguising as his ally Deiphobus, so had Smith had tricked me. I knew it was over for me and I attempted to save face by facing the inquiry committee and being honest. I attempted to make amends for my behavior, but just as Hector had lost to Achilles, I could not convince the committee of my innocence, I knew that my time in this beautiful city was up and that I had lost my job just as Hector had lost his life (pg. 551: Book XXII: 350-360).

After everyone had been interviewed, I was called back and asked to write a letter explaining why I had committed the crime. The committee explained that Smith had incriminated me and had promised to show them how I had achieved this. He said that he did not want to report because of my relationship with the boss and was scared that it would cost him his job. His testimony not only killed my chances for retaining my job but dragged my name and the little hope I had for a career at the prestigious firm as Achilles did to Hector’s body (pg. 554-555: Book XXII: 460-480). On the plane back home from California, I went through my ordeal over and over, until I realized that there was a lesson in this. I had learnt never to be a pawn- just like Hector had fought a battle that was not his and got destroyed, so had I.

Works Cited.

Homer, , Stanley Lombardo, and Sheila Murnaghan. Iliad. , 1997. Print.