Chapter Five

"She then slapped me and walked out of the supermarket,". Wilson said as he finished explaining everything that had happened at the supermarket to his best friend, Nathan. Nathan sighed as he sipped his martini.

"You do know you started everything yourself," Nathan said.

"What do you mean by I started everything myself?" Wilson asked as he was confused.

"You slapping the girl was the first thing you did wrong," Nathan answered as he sipped his martini and dropped it slowly. "You shouldn't have slapped her just because of what she did. You shouldn't even slap a woman at all." Wilson looked at his best friend like he had betrayed him.

"Have you forgotten how she replied me?" Wilson asked angrily. "She talked back at me like she didn't know who I was. She has no right to even speak to me talk less speaking to me the way she did."

"Whatever, man," Nathan said as he belched lightly. "I'm just here to tell you the plain truth, man."

"Plain truth?" Wilson shouted, attracting the attention of every single person at the bar as his shout was loud. "Do not tell me you're siding with that bitch, Nathan. She is worthless and she had no right to talk back at me."

"C'mon, Wilson," Nathan muttered. "You and I know that deep beneath all those show of pride and arrogamcy, you know that what I'm saying is the very truth." Wilsons eyes bulged with rage as he turned and sipped his vodka. As painful as it sounded, his best friend, Nathan, was right. What he did wasn't good. It wasn't right at all. But it was just an act of reflex so it was justified... right?

"I know but all I did was an act out of reflex so I don't see any reason why she should have slapped me back," he muttered as he downed his vodka. "It was all just an act of reflex."

"An act of reflex, you say?" Nathan asked as he chuckled. "You and I know that the only reason why that was out of reflex is because of the fact that you always slap your servants anytime they do wrong." That too was painfully true. "Whenever they say something or do something wrong, it was always a hard slap across the face that you use to correct them. And now it has become a part of you. You don't even know who is your servant and who is not anymore." Wilson winced as he knew his best friend, Nathans, words were painfully true.

"You are right, my friend," he said. "But you don't have to be so plainfully true." Nathan chuckled and tapped his friend on the shoulder.

"Trust, they say, is bitter, my friend," he said as he laughed. "I'd say you take it head on like a man that you are."

"You make all of these sound so easy," Wilson mumbled. "But I tell you it is most definitely not. You are bound to slip one way or the other."

"Yes, yes, yes," Nathan said as he finished his martini. "You are right. I do shout at my servants one time or the other when they do wrong but I do not raise my hands on them as it was not me who raised them or birth them. And what I mostly do is to talk to them. That always works."

"I have heard you, Nathan," Wilson said as he stood up from his chair. "But I believe in my ways and I stand by it."

"Well, then," Nathan muttered as he too stood up. "To each his own, Wilson." Wilson smiled as he shook his friends hand.

"See you later, my man," he said. "We have a lot of business to talk about on your new oil industry achievements," he said and Nathan laughed.

"With you, Wilson, everything is business," he said as he pulled Wilson for a hug. Wilson pushed Nathan slowly as he disengaged himself from the hug.

"You know how much I hate hugs, Nathan," he said as he adjusted his suit.

"Oh, I know, Wilson"Nathan replied.

"Always wrinkles my perfectly ironed suit."

"Oh, Wilson, " Nathan said as he chuckled.

"See you, later good friend," Wilson said as he and Jim walked out of the bar and headed for their car.

Jim walked ahead of Wilso to the car and opened the door before he reached the car. Wilson got in and adjusted his clothes asJim ran to the otherside of the car and got into the drivers seat. He then placed the key into the car and started it and then drive on to the streets before zooming off.

"Am I hard, Jim?" Wilson asked Jim as they drove back home. "Am I hard on you guys, my servants?" Jim scratched him head and ruffled is hair as he kept his hands steady and his eyes on the road. He thought of how to reply him that wouldn't sound offensive or get his boss mad or angry or sad. It was true that he was hard but he wanted to explain it softly to him.

"I don't know how to put this, sir," he said as he maintained his eyes on the road. "You might be cruel to us sometimes but you are a good man."

"A good man?" he asked. "I want you to tell me the fucking truth, Jim. Am I hard on you guys? Do I give you guys hard works?" Jim thought hard on what to reply. As he was about speaking, Wilson said, "I want you to tell me the very truth, Jim."

"Well," Jim began. "You do give us hard works and you can be hard on us sometimes. But it is all worth the pay, sir," he said as he turned the steering wheel down the street.

"Good," Wilson muttered. "I give my hard works and I make hard decisions on you guys because I want you guys to be strong so you can face the world. This world is fucked up and for you to survive, you need to be fucked up too. That is why I train y'all hard, so that you will be hard like me."

'This guy is totally messed up,' Jim thought as they drove down the street.