I, excel at being racist.

The clients understood, i couldn’t find any more suitable photos to use. I told them to use a little imagination for parts that were not yet there, parts that were still being developed. My job as an amazing janitor who is very good at coming late to office everyday, — and the fact that my boss had sent 2 journalists from New Straits Times to interview why in the name of Flexible Hours did i come almost too flexible, too flamboyant and too radical, — had made the clients think, i imagined, that i work for a Marxist company.

With hair style that went beyond stupidity, I, the amazing janitor, showed them what others couldn’t possibly do.

“You guys have to forgive me yeah. I couldn’t find any better image to use,”

“Sure,” they told, and blinked more than twice at the photo i projected on the screen. “Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“You and your girlfriend?”

“No, just some female friend.”

“Oh, but you look different.”

“Yeah, i was a lot younger and i had enough sleep. I’ll look younger again when i have enough sleep.”

“No, can’t do. We want to launch it on Tuesday, by Monday you have the complete the project. You can sleep after Tuesday.”

True, i might not believe in God and Indian taxi drivers, if i’m honest enough to myself. But if there’s God, and if there’s a funky and reliable Indian cab driver i can trust, can you guys send these funny corporate clients to erm, i dunno. What’s the worst place on earth? Some cave in Afghanistan? Send them there.