Linda worked her entire life as an accountant for a major firm, and she was still the best employee at her age. But she wanted to retire, something the director refused. She asked for an extended vacation, which was denied, and that’s when she finally decided to quit. However, the director showed up at her doorstep with a shocking suggestion.
“Mr. Salinger, I’ve been working for over 40 years. I think I have earned my retirement by now,” Linda told her boss in the accountant firm she had dedicated her life to.
“No, Linda. We can’t do that yet. You can’t do that to us. You can’t leave the company without a proper replacement for you. It’s just not possible,” Mr. Salinger replied, shaking his head at her suggestion.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Although Linda was the best employee in the firm, she truly needed to retire now. It was harder for her to learn all the advanced computer programs coming out now, and focusing on a screen was damaging her eyesight. She had headaches all the time and tired quickly. It was time for her to rest, especially because she had missed so much of her life working there.
Her firm demanded the most out of everybody that worked there. Linda was a hugely ambitious woman who wanted the very best for her family. Therefore, she invested double the hours and worked to become the number one employee in the company. And she had kept that spot for decades.
But now, the director, Mr. Salinger, told her to stay, and she complied again with his orders.
***
Unfortunately, Linda was overwhelmed with work and sad that Mr. Salinger had not supported her retirement. Her children and husband, Thomas, noticed this and decided to plan several weekend outings.
Linda spent time with her grandchildren at barbecues, the Richmond County fair in their hometown in Staten Island, and they even spent some time in New York visiting touristy spots.
One weekend, her husband surprised her with several tickets for a planned trip to Europe in the summer. They were interchangeable, so all she needed was to arrange her vacation time at work to enjoy it fully.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
That was the perfect solution. If Mr. Salinger wouldn’t let her retire, he had to give her a decent vacation time this year. After all, she had not taken a long break for many years. She was due.
***
“Absolutely not! That’s too much time. We need you here, Linda. I thought we had already discussed this,” Mr. Salinger stated, throwing some papers on his desk and looking at Linda in disappointment.
“Mr. Salinger, I’m due for a long vacation after all my years of hard work. We talked about retiring and you told me you couldn’t allow it. A vacation is only a month. That’s nothing,” Linda countered, her hands together in a begging gesture.
“I already told you my answer. It’s final!” her boss said and started typing on his computer, which was usually her cue to leave. But Linda had had enough. She looked at her boss’s face and felt a deep sadness. After all these years, this was how he treated her.
“Fine. I quit then. Effective immediately,” Linda said in the calmest voice possible. She didn’t have time to enjoy watching Mr. Salinger’s jaw hit the floor as she stormed out of his office. She went straight to her desk and picked up a few of her trinkets, photo frames, and purse. She was done.
“Linda! You can’t leave! You can’t quit!” Mr. Salinger yelled as she approached the elevator. The entire office turned to look at them in curiosity.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash
“Goodbye, everyone!” Linda waved to her co-workers. “I’m officially retiring today!”
“FINE! GO THEN! WE CAN HIRE ANYONE TO DO YOUR JOB! IT’S THE EASIEST IN THE COMPANY! GO! YOU UNGRATEFUL OLD WOMAN!”
Linda’s co-workers had started to applaud but stopped when Mr. Salinger began yelling. She paid him no mind. She got in that elevator and left with a smile. She was free.
***
A month later, Linda was busy in her room trying to decide what to pack for Europe. She and her husband were leaving in a few days and would be traveling for at least two months. It was going to be amazing, but she needed to have wardrobe choices.
The doorbell rang. She walked to the door and was surprised to be greeted by Mr. Salinger’s saddened eyes.
“Mr. Salinger, what are you doing here?” she asked, shocked by his visit.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“Linda, I’m here because we need you. The company needs you. We hired a younger person, and she doesn’t know how to do anything. We’re desperate without you,” Mr. Salinger begged, his face showing his anguish.
“I thought anyone could do my job,” Linda quipped.
“Please! Don’t make me beg. We need you back. I can offer you a raise and that vacation time you asked for,” Mr. Salinger insisted, looking like he was about to bend to his knees.
But Linda shook her head. “There’s no money in the world that will make me go back to work, Mr. Salinger. I asked for very little from you over these decades. I was the best employee, and you still treated me like trash. I wasted so much time and missed many milestones in my family’s life. Now, it’s time to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I now know that work doesn’t matter. Spending time with your loved ones does. Goodbye, Mr. Salinger, and good luck,” she added calmly.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Mr. Salinger’s shoulders hunched, and Linda closed the door on his face.
What can we learn from this story?
- Don’t waste your whole life on a job. The truth is that a company will replace you easily if something happens, so don’t dedicate your life to it.
- Treat your employees well. Some employers don’t learn how valuable their employees are until it’s too late.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about an older woman who spent Christmas alone when her children discovered she was a cleaner.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
Neighbors Made Me Put up a Fence to Hide an ‘Ugly’ Car in My Yard – A Week Later, They Begged Me to Remove It
I didn’t quite see my neighbors’ vintage ’67 Chevy Impala the same way, but to me it was more than just a rusty heap. What was supposed to be a fight over a “eyesore” developed into something none of us saw coming. It altered our peaceful suburban street in ways we never would have imagined.
My dad left me an ancient, beat-up 1967 Chevy Impala. I saw it as a project I wanted to restore and a reminder of my father, even though most people just saw it as a rusted automobile. My garage was piled high with tools and spare components, so the automobile sat in my yard. I’d been trying to save money and find time to work on it, but I knew it looked awful.
But my neighbors were far more concerned about this than I was. I was out inspecting the Impala one bright afternoon when I suddenly remembered something. Gus, my dad, was demonstrating how to change the oil. He smiled, his thick mustache twitching. “You see, Nate? It isn’t complicated science. Simply perseverance and hard work,” he had stated. A piercing voice jolted me back to reality as I was lost in thinking as I ran my fingers over the worn paint. A man leaning against a vintage car’s front end.
Please pardon me, Nate. Could we discuss about that? I turned to see my next-door neighbor, Karen, pointing disgustingly at the Impala. Hello, Karen. What’s going on?” Knowing where this was going, I asked.”That vehicle. It is aesthetically offensive. With crossed arms, she remarked, “It’s destroying the appearance of our street.” I exhaled. “I realize it appears rough right now, but I intend to fix it. It was my dad’s, but Karen cut him off, saying, “I don’t care whose it was.” It must be removed. or at the very least remain unseen. She pivoted and marched back to her house before I could reply.
As I watched her leave, I noticed a knot in my stomach. I vented to my girlfriend Heather over dinner later that night. “Do you think she’s real? “It seems as though she is unaware of the significance this car holds for me,” I remarked, picking at my salad. Squeezing my hand, Heather reached across the table. “I understand, sweetie. However, would you try working on it a little bit more quickly? simply to demonstrate to them your progress? I nodded, but I knew in my heart that it wasn’t that easy. Time was of the essence, and parts were costly.
When I returned home a week later, I discovered a notice from the city hidden beneath the wiper on my “offending” car. As I read it, my stomach fell. The general idea was to either remove the car or conceal it behind a fence. I clenched the piece of paper in my hand, feeling a surge of rage within. This was absurd. I required guidance. I picked up my friend Vince, who also loves cars. “Hey, buddy, have a moment? I’d like your opinion on something. Okay, what’s going on? Vince’s voice came across the phone crackling. I described the circumstances, becoming more irritated as I spoke. Before he spoke, Vince was silent for a while.
He spoke carefully and added, “Build the fence, but add a twist.” “What do you mean?” I curiously inquired.”You’ll discover. This weekend, I’ll be here. This will provide for some enjoyable times. Vince arrived that weekend with a truck full of paint and wood. For the next two days, we worked on erecting a towering fence to enclose my front yard. Vince told me about his strategy as we worked together. “We’re going to decorate this fence with a mural of the Impala. Every rust mark, every ding. We’ll make sure they remember the car if they decide to hide it. Loved the idea, I smiled. “Let’s get started.”On Sunday, we painted. Even though none of us was artistic, we were able to replicate the Impala on the fence really well.
For added effect, we even made some of the flaws seem worse. I was satisfied with my work when we took a step back to admire it. I decided to find out what the neighbors thought of this. It didn’t take me long to learn. There came a knock on my door the following afternoon. When I opened it, a cluster of neighbors surrounding Karen as she stood there. Their expressions were a peculiar mix of desperation and rage. “Nate, we need to talk about the fence,” Karen said in a tight voice. Hiding my delight, I leaned against the doorframe. How about it? I followed your instructions.
The automobile is now hidden.An older man called Frank, one of the other neighbors, raised his voice. We understand that we requested you to conceal the car, but this mural is simply too much, son. I arched an eyebrow. “Too much? In what way? Karen let out a deep sigh. “It’s more awful than the car itself. It appears as though you’ve transformed your entire yard into… “A show of art?” Unable to control my sarcasm, I made a suggestion. “A disgrace,” Karen firmly concluded. “We would prefer to see the actual car instead of this… monstrosity.”Maybe a little too much, I enjoyed their anguish as I crossed my arms. Now, allow me to clarify. You made me spend money on a fence after complaining about my automobile, and now you want me to pull it down? They all gave bashful nods.
After giving it some thinking, I decided to remove the fence—but only under one condition. As long as I’m working on fixing the car, you guys promise to quit whining about it. Alright?They glanced at one another before grudgingly agreeing. I could hear them whispering to each other as they left. I started tearing down the fence the following day. Some of my neighbors were seeing me work with interest. Even Tom, one of them, stopped over to talk. “I never really looked at that car before, Nate,” he remarked, pointing to the Impala. However, after getting a closer look, I can see that it has potential. Which year is it?I grinned, always up for a conversation about the car. It’s a 1967. When I was a little child, my dad purchased it. Tom gave a grateful nod. Good. My brother has a thing for vintage autos.
In the event that you require assistance with the restoration, I might contact him. I took aback at the offer. That would be fantastic. Regards, Tom. In the ensuing weeks, word of my initiative grew. To my astonishment, a number of neighborhood auto aficionados began dropping by to examine the Impala and provide guidance or assistance. I was working on the engine one Saturday morning when I heard a familiar voice behind me. “So, this is the well-known vehicle, huh?” I turned to see Karen standing there, intrigued yet seeming uneasy. I wiped my hands with a cloth and remarked, “Yep, this is her.” Karen moved in closer, staring at the motor. “I must admit that my knowledge of autos is quite limited.
How are you spending your time? Startled by her curiosity, I gave the bare outline of the project I was working on. More neighbors flocked around to listen and ask questions while we conversed. My yard quickly became the scene of an unplanned block party. A cooler full of drinks was brought out, and individuals started talking about their early automotive experiences or their recollections of owning vintage automobiles. I was surrounded by my neighbors as the sun was setting, and we were all conversing and laughing. Karen seems to be having fun as well. Looking at the Impala in the lovely evening light, it seemed better than ever, while still being rusty and battered up.
I couldn’t help but think about how much my father would have enjoyed this scene.Speaking to the group, I remarked, “You know, my dad always said a car wasn’t just a machine.” It was a narrative reimagined. Considering how many stories this old girl has brought out today, I believe he would be quite pleased. There were lifted glasses and murmurs of agreement. I noticed something as I turned to face my neighbors, who were now my pals. Despite all of the difficulty it had caused, this car had ultimately brought us all together. Though the restoration was still a long way off, I sensed that the voyage ahead would be much more pleasurable. Who knows?
Perhaps a whole neighborhood full of vintage vehicle lovers would be eager to go for a drive by the time the Impala was ready to hit the road. I lifted my cup. “To wonderful cars and good neighbors,” I uttered. Everyone applauded, and while I was surrounded by smiles and lively chatter, it occurred to me that sometimes the greatest restorations involve more than simply automobiles. They also care about the community. How would you have responded in that situation?
Leave a Reply