It all started when I typed a letter wrong while searching for something on the internet.
“Well, hello?” thought I. “What’s this?” And I clicked.
Being the office key custodian, I was in charge of locking up the office after working hours. I now spent said hours leisurely exploring this new world I had found myself in. Each video had links to another video, which had links to genres I did not know existed.
Even cartoons. Hot damn.
Of course, this meant that the office internet was used up much faster than usual.
On this unfortunate day, I’d taken my vulgar self down to the main offices where the top dogs sit to get some money. While doing so, I casually mentioned:
“By the way, boss, we’ll need more internet. It’s finished”.
“What”, Boss said. “This internet! How does it get finished so fast?” He spoke to Boss 2.
“Boss 2!” he said. “Call this internet company and we sort this out”.
I breathlessly slid myself into a chair as Boss 2 made the call.
“Hello? Yes, I have a problem. The internet keeps getting finished. Eh? I can get a print out of our office internet activity? Very good. How soon can I get this? For sure, It is an emergency. Mid-day? That quickly? No, don’t email it. I’m coming to pick it myself. I need to talk to you people directly”.
I t was now 11.30 am. My stomach was trying to rip itself out of my body.
I hopped on a boda, purchased some alcohol, locked myself in the office, and tried to inject a copious amount of Dutch courage into my now frail and feeble heart. I then called up the boss.
Myself: “I have a confession to make”
Boss: “What is it?”
Myself: “You don’t need to go to the internet company to pick up the scripts of what has been downloaded. It’s me who’s been using up all the internet”.
Boss: “All that internet! What have you been downloading?”
Boss: “What kind of videos that use up all that internet?!”
Oh, sweet lord.
“The wrong kind of videos, boss”.
What kind of videos are the wrong kind of videos, he wanted to know.
There was a really long pause. A pause that I spent listening to my head buzz, feel the shame filling me up from my hair to my toes, and frantically trying to keep my heart from leaping out of my mouth, all at the same time.
I decided to break it.
“I’m really sorry!” I pleaded. “You can do whatever you want, you can take my salary-“
He cut me off.
“No, no, why would I want you to pay it back? I am indeed very grateful to you!”
“You have shown me that you are a person of character, who can confess and tell the truth”, he gushed.
“In fact, if I had a million shillings on me right now, why wouldn’t I give you half of it?” he continued.
I just had to say it out loud this time, to him.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“You have saved me the bother of trying to investigate and find out who has been misusing the internet. It would have been time consuming and embarrassing”, he kindly explained.
“Oh”, I said, trying to gather my scattered wits. “Since you put it that way, I feel glad to have been of service to you in some way”.
Just like that. The world was my friend again, and I was free and clear. Somehow, It didn’t feel right. I should have been fired. I should have been punished.
The next day, I was chatting with our graphic designer, Emma, who gave me some shocking news. A colleague of ours called Maria had been fired.
I gasped. Fired? Why? What could she have done that was worse than what I had done?
Emma beckoned me closer and whispered conspiratorially. “Apparently, she has been using up all the internet surfing A LOT of pornography”.
Being a fool, I hastened to correct her. It was not the reason Maria was let go. I was the one surfing the pornography.
Emma laughed and laughed. And laughed some more. She called me a fool and ordered me not to confess to anyone else. Then she held my arm tenderly and led me into the establishment where we were having an office party. To where everyone was probably going to start telling me about Maria surfing porn. I wanted to die.
Lo and Behold! Boss no. 3 had returned from an overseas trip. I made my forlorn way over to where he was chatting with a very large group of my friends.
“Hey, Lindsey!”, they said. “You won’t believe what your boss is telling us!”
“Yeah”, Boss 3 said to me. “Apparently, somebody’s been surfing a crazy amount of porn with the office internet”.
“For real?” I gasped, chocking back sobs of frustration and clutching my handbag tightly. “Oh my God, that is insane. I can’t believe it! Excuse me”.
There was only so much more a sister could take of this. I beckoned Boss 3 over to a quiet corner.
“It’s me, Boss”.
“I’m the one who’s been using up all the internet”.
If his bottle of beer had started dancing with him, he could not have looked more astounded. For the rest of the night, he kept prodding me and going, “YOU?”
And patiently and resignedly, I responded every time. “Yes, me”.
I can confidently say I have never looked at pornography again. In fact, I’m allergic to it.