Rude Boss Humiliates a Beggar Outside the Office, Gets Punished by His Employees the Next Day – Story of the Day

Eric, unhappy with his predictable life, runs his father’s company into the ground with his arrogance and horrible attitude toward people. But what happens when a beggar changes his ways about life?

The sun had yet to breach the horizon over the city skyline, casting a faint glow through the panoramic windows of Eric's upscale apartment. He sat back against his silk sheets, the soft glow of his phone's screen illuminating his face as he scrolled through emails.

He hated it. He hated emails, the phone calls, the business deals. He hated being addressed as Sir or Mr. Stanton. He hated all of it. He locked the phone, the light disappearing from the room. In the dark, his cold and calculating eyes betrayed a lifetime of navigating the cutthroat business world – of deals sealed with a handshake and fortunes amassed through shrewd maneuvers.

If anything, he ached to be dressed in his khakis, arms covered in scratches as he made his way through a cave in the middle of the jungle. Or look through an ancient tomb that promised secrets of life thousands of years ago. Or even going into old Irish villages and meeting the self-acclaimed village witches. He wanted to learn more about culture and tradition, magic and mysticism, and the world in ways hidden from people who simply didn't want to know.

Instead, Eric had to give up his dreams because, with his father's untimely death, the mantle had fallen onto his reluctant shoulders. And what made it worse was that his mother was traveling again – if he was honest with himself, he did not know where she was at present.

"Probably at a spa or doing whatever the heck she wants," he told an empty room.

This morning routine was a monotonous dance of tailored suits and polished shoes, the façade of success that he wore like armor every single day. A pang of resentment gnawed at him as he buttoned his crisp white shirt, a stark contrast to the turmoil that was always brewing beneath his skin.

"There's still an hour before heading to the office," Eric said aloud. "I'm not going in early to waste my time."

He went into his study and sat in front of his computer, ready to browse his usual sites – the part of the internet updating the archeology enthusiasts about new findings and theories. Before he took the reins of his father's business, Eric had spent his days buried in books on ancient civilizations, enchanted by the idea of unearthing the secrets of the past.

His fascination with artifacts and ancient lore painted a vivid picture of a future far removed from the sterile boardrooms and relentless pursuit of profit.

But since he took over, his passion had almost become dust. He had no other tie to his former self besides browsing the internet. Instead, he felt himself becoming bitter and resentful of everyone around him. And when he felt parts of himself slipping, he took it out on everyone close to himself. Anger and arrogance became his second nature.

In the city's heart, his glass-and-steel tower reached for the sky, trapping Eric and his employees for the business day. Now, from the curb, he glanced up at the building, towering over the others around it, and grinned.

"Now that screams powerful, doesn't it?" he muttered, oblivious to the people around him. He walked with purpose to the building.

I don't want to be here, he thought to himself. But people don't need to know that.

He didn't notice the beggar sitting on the sidewalk near his building as he walked. So, when he walked, he knocked over the beggar's box of coins from their plea for money.

"Don't worry about it, Sir," the beggar said quietly. "I'll pick it up."

"Don't worry?" Eric barked. "You'll pick it up?"

Eric looked at the man in disgust. He had little patience for people and believed that beggars belonged in soup kitchens or somewhere where people like him wouldn't be subject to seeing or interacting with them. It irritated him that he was forced to do so.

He felt bad for the beggar for a tiny sliver of a moment. Eric considered reaching into his pocket and giving the person some money.

But when the breeze turned, and he got a sniff of the man's odor, his entire language shifted.

"Gross!" Eric exclaimed. "What do you mean it's alright?"

Eric watched as the man picked up his coins with his fingers in dirty cut-out gloves.

"Look at my shoes! Your stuff has made them dirty!" he said, gesturing wildly with his arms.

But the beggar paid him no attention and continued to pick up his coins. Eric refused to not be acknowledged, his anger rising like steam inside his body.

"Do you know how much my shoes cost?" he continued, screaming at the man. "More than you'll make in your entire life! Look at you! Sitting here, begging for scraps. If you spent less time on this act and more on your appearance, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation."

When the man refused to look up at Eric and retaliate in any way, Eric had had enough. Now, he was fueled by the flames of arrogance, he raised his voice for all to hear.

"Get out of here! I don't want to see you on my doorstep again! You see this building?" he asked menacingly. "This building is mine. Don't make me get security to send you away."

Eric grimaced as he walked away, the wind returning the man's smell to his nose. When he opened the door to the office building, he didn't bother to acknowledge the onlookers exchanging uneasy glances at him, sensing the cruelty as it oozed from his pores.

"Mr. Stanton, is everything alright?" Tennessee, his secretary asked as he marched through to his office.

Still consumed by his new source of anger, Eric didn't spare her a glance. He dismissed her with a curt wave, a silent command to leave him undisturbed. She tried to continue talking to him, but Eric just walked away.

When he got into his office, he sighed as he closed the door.

"I hate people," he said.

"Good morning!" came a cheery voice as she turned the chair to face him.

"Oh, God," Eric said.

"I came in early to catch you, Mr. Stanton!" Lucretia said. "I've been trying to meet with you for two weeks!"

"Just get out of my office," he replied.

"Mr. Stanton," she continued talking, turning the chair back to the table.

Eric just rolled her eyes.

"As you know," she said. "I've been working on this project for a long time. Just give me a chance to present it. I'm going to give you the short version."

Eric sat down at his place and tried to listen to her. He had to admit she was a good worker, and her enthusiasm had saved him in meetings many times. But he was still seething from the encounter with the beggar. So, he sat behind his desk with an air of indifference. His eyes, cold and distant, barely registered anything she was saying.

"So, the concept is simple, but according to my calculation, this will increase our company's capital by at least 70%. That could change everything!"

"Great!" he boomed sarcastically. "Why don't you take my seat then, huh? Because you know so much!"

"No, Sir," she said soberly. "This is just … I mean, this project –"

"Nope!" he barked. "No buts and no projects. And you won't be getting anything from me! Listen, Lucy, I don't have time for these fantasies that you're trying to sell me. I expect tangible results, not dreams and projections – if you tried harder, you would have produced better results!"

"But I couldn't go ahead with anything. Not without your approval," she said timidly. "But the research findings, the data it all supports –"

"Well, you don't have my approval," he said curtly. "And now, you're wasting my time with this nonsense. I've said enough. Don't bother presenting if you cannot bring me something concrete. I have more important matters to attend to."

"I'll leave my file here. It has all the relevant information for you to go through," she said, packing her things.

"Take it away with you! And one more thing, Lucretia. Don't you ever come into my office and sit around like this again. If you want to see me, then you need to schedule an appointment with my secretary. Understood?"

"I've been waiting for you for two weeks, Mr. Stanton," she said, sounding bolder.

Eric had to admit, he liked this. He liked the change in her attitude – she was trying to stand up to him. He could count the number of people who stood up to him on one hand. He was so used to people shaking in their boots whenever he disagreed with them that this was new to him. But he also just wasn't in the mood to deal with any of it.

"Get your things and get out!" he demanded.

As the door closed behind her, Eric was left alone in his office, the harsh echoes of his outburst reverberating within the confines of the lavish space. He sat with his feet on the table and took out his phone to browse the internet again.

There were new articles about oracles that he wanted to read. Two of his old classmates had published their papers on the existence of oracles in ancient communities. Eric wanted to be proud of them and acknowledge all their hard work, but he felt it should have been him. He looked at the breathtaking photographs and wanted to cry out.

"I should be the one exploring, researching, and publishing," he said aloud, slamming his hand on the table. But still, he continued to read.

Eric continued reading through the day, only stopping to take two phone calls. He ignored every call and message sent through from his secretary. And left every email unread.

"They can live without me for one day," he said.

When the day was finally over, he packed up his bag and left for the day. As he was leaving his office in Tennessee, his secretary called out.

"Oh, Mr. Stanton!" she said, jumping up from her desk.

"Make it quick," he said.

"The office is out of coffee, and the water guys won't come back and fill the water filters until our account has been paid."

"Right, and then, what's the problem here?" Eric asked.

"The problem is that we ran out of coffee," she said. "And the water supplier –"

"Well then! If everybody wants to drink water, they must bring some from home. And as for the coffee, a recent study has shown that the average office loses two hours of productivity per day at the coffee machine."

Eric looked at her with his eyebrows raised.

"Any questions?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "The office is supposed to have a positive atmosphere."

"I agree," he said. "Go look for a way to do it for free, Tennessee. Right, goodbye."

"Mr. Stanton," she said. "You forgot to sign for my vacation again. I was hoping to have you sign my forms. I'm planning to take a week off next month. My sister is having a baby, and I wanted to ensure everything is in order before your schedule becomes too hectic."

"Vacation? Now? Tennessee, we're in the middle of crucial projects. I cannot have my key players disappear when things are this intense. Postpone it or something."

He began to walk to the door, ready to leave the day behind him, but Lucretia approached him.

"Sir, I have an idea about that marketing strategy that you asked me to look over," she said.

"Tomorrow! The working day is over!" Eric barked. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Will you make an appointment for me?" she asked.

"Sure," he said sarcastically. "Bye!"

Eric stepped out of the building into the city's bustling energy. His pent-up frustration demanded an escape and a brief respite beckoned in the form of a nearby deli. He needed to eat his feelings out.

The deli, nestled between towering buildings, emitted the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread and aromatic spices. Its quaint exterior, adorned with hanging flower baskets, starkly contrasted the cold, corporate ambiance Eric had just left behind.

Normally, he would have hated a place like this, deciding it was 'too cute.' But this place reminded him of a café where he spent his time when his dreams looked very different.

Inside, lively chatter filled the air, people living alone getting their meals for one, just like himself. Eric walked past the gourmet sandwiches, artisanal salads, and a selection of pastries that filled up the glass display. But still, despite the temptation of the lavish spread, Eric's demeanor remained detached. He ordered a hastily prepared sandwich, his mind occupied with the day's events.

Probably should have listened to Lu's proposal, he thought to himself.

As he was about to make his way home, Eric realized he had left his phone in his office. He marched back to the building he loathed, ready to run in and get his phone before anyone could speak to him. In his hurry, Eric's foot caught an uneven crack in the pavement, sending him stumbling forward.

The to-go bag flew from his hand, and he collided with the ground in front of the beggar.

"You again!" he spat, his frustration pouring out. "Can't you find a better spot to beg? Stay out of my way!"

He watched as the man lifted his coins in one hand and dropped them into the box. Repeating the cycle while Eric spoke.

"I thought you would get out of here this morning! So, what are you still doing here? Get up!"

Eric stepped away, ready to get home and avoid all human contact until the morning. But then, the beggar grabbed his arm.

"Tomorrow," the beggar said in a menacing voice. "Tomorrow, everything will change. Tomorrow, you won't recognize yourself. Tomorrow, you will be different. And you will only get one chance."

Eric pulled his arm away, taking big steps to distance himself from the man.

"Who do you think you are?" he demanded. "If you're not gone by tomorrow, I will call the police."

"Do you think I am simply here for the coins? No, I have come to speak of the echoes reverberating through fate's corridors. Do you feel them, the vibrations beneath the surface of your existence?"

"What nonsense are you talking about now? Riddles from a madman?" Eric asked.

"You see, Mr. Stanton, the path you tread is not just one of business and wealth. No, Sir. It is a tapestry woven with the threads of karma – a force that neither wealth nor power can escape. Your actions, the echoes of your choices are etched into the very fabric of your destiny."

"You are insane," Eric said.

"I am not. The universe itself holds the strings. Your karma is catching up to you, and soon, you will not recognize the reflection that stares back at you."

Eric abandoned the thought of getting his phone and left. He couldn't deal with anybody else, and God forbid he run into Tennessee or Lucretia, and they wanted to talk to him. Truthfully, he was perturbed by the beggar's words. They had a sort of threat about them, and Eric felt the hairs on his neck stand as the man had uttered the words.

You're just paranoid, he told himself as he paced the length of his living room later. You spent the day reading up on oracles. Of course, your mind is driving you crazy.

He poured himself a drink and reheated one of the frozen meals that his helper had stocked in the freezer.

Eric, a man who had thrived on control and dominance, felt an unsettling vulnerability as he dug into his dinner. There was a feeling that he couldn't shake, like something big was on the way – something that he wasn't sure he was ready to face.

The next morning, Eric entered the office feeling different. His usual aura of authority and detachment seemed to have waned, and there was an uncanny openness to the world around him. His mind told him that something was off, but his body felt lighter than it had been in a long time.

"What is happening to me?" he muttered as he walked out of the elevator.

Even the office's atmosphere felt different – like everything was happier. Eric had no idea what was happening, just that he felt completely uncontrollable.

"Mr. Stanton!" Tennessee called out, running to him. "Will you please sign for my vacation?"

"Yes, of course!" he blurted out, stunned at himself.

"Yes?" Tennessee asked, as shocked as he was.

"Yes!" his lips repeated.

"That's great news, Sir!" she pushed the clipboard into his arms. "You know, I already bought my plane tickets and everything. I'm so happy that you agreed!"

She gave him a pen to sign with, and Eric's mind wanted him to pick up the pen and throw it away, but his body seemed to be under some kind of control.

"Can you please sign it now?" she asked. "I have to go and arrange your schedule for the day."

"Yes, of course, I would love to," he said, almost gagging. "Where can I sign?"

Eric struggled to regain control of his body. He didn't want his secretary to go on holiday – he could barely do anything without her! And yet, here he was, his hands willing to sign on their own.

He took a deep breath and tried to throw the pen in a different direction.

"Sir, are you okay?" Tennessee asked him.

He threw the clipboard to the ground, too. Surprised that although he was upset, there was certainly no trace of it in his voice.

"Okay!" she said. "We can sign it later."

"I just love vacations," Eric blurted without thinking. "How about some money in advance?" he asked her. "I know you need some extra cash for that, right. Don't you?"

Then he gasped, trying to figure out what was going on with him. He covered his hands with his mouth before he could make any other declarations.

"Sir, I knew deep down you were a great man!" Tennessee exclaimed triumphantly. "Did you change your mind about the coffee and water situation for the office, maybe?"

"Oh, yes, I have!" he said. "Let's get a coffee machine and a new fridge for milk!"

Eric waved her away, entered his office, and shut the door.

"No way! Why did I say any of those things?" he asked himself in the silent office. "I would never agree to any of those things by myself!"

Then, his door opened, and Lucretia walked in, her large file in hand.

"Mr. Stanton," she said, setting the file down on the table. "I have gone through my presentation and re-edited everything. I have minimized all the waste and removed areas that could have resulted in unnecessary expenses. Just take a look."

Eric forced himself to sit at the desk and review the file.

"This is great," he said. "I actually quite like this 30% extra – on this part," he pointed to one of her bullet points.

Again, Eric covered his mouth and wanted to hide under the desk.

"Is this a dream?" Lucretia asked, biting her hand to see the truth.

"Nope, definitely not a dream," she decided. "So, you like the idea?"

"Yes! I like it very much!" Eric blurted out, pained at the way he was behaving.

"Thank you!" she said, walking out of the office. "I will do everything to make this project perfect."

"What is happening to me?" he asked. "That damn beggar, he did this."

Eric's mind flooded with the man's words and how he promised that Eric would not recognize himself.

"I have to do something about this," he said to himself.

He tried to form the word 'No,' but his lips wouldn't allow it. Instead, in a desperate bid to regain control over his own voice, Eric rummaged through his office drawers until he found a roll of black duct tape. He tore off a strip and affixed it across his mouth.

Then, he unlocked his phone – whenever anyone asked him something, he was determined to hold up his phone screen with the message "Forget about it" as his answer.

For the rest of the day, Eric continued to answer questions by holding up his phone. Everything was met with a "Forget about it."

Eventually, Eric had enough. He packed his things and went outside to confront the beggar. As he stepped out of the building, he pulled off the duct tape and groaned.

"This is all your fault!" he shouted at the beggar – pleased that his anger had returned. "Is this some kind of a prank? What did you say to me? Yesterday? This is all because of you!"

The beggar slowly removed his hood, revealing Eric's face staring back at him. Eric stepped back in shock, almost falling over.

"I am you," the beggar said. "Yes, friend. Do you like what you see? Because this is your future. This is what you will become."

"Impossible," Eric said. "I am losing my mind."

"I always thought to myself," the beggar continued. "How do people end up living like this? And now I know. Terrible deeds are to blame. Greed ruined you, my friend."

"No, No!" Eric exclaimed. "I'm a good person! I am a good man, so what you're saying is impossible."

"Most people are good. You focus so much on not spending money on the people who matter that you've lost all your humanity. Soon, your people will turn their backs on you."

Eric ran away, listening to the man's voice ringing loud and clear.

When Eric awoke the next morning, he felt fine. He shouted "no" while brushing his teeth, showering, and drinking his coffee. He was finally back to himself.

"I don't know what happened yesterday, but thank goodness it's over," he told himself in the mirror as he got ready for another day at the office.

However, when he got to the office, the usual hustle and bustle of the morning rush seemed conspicuously absent. As he entered the lobby, he noticed an unusual quietness that sent a shiver down his spine.

Tennessee usually engrossed in her tasks, looked up with a somber expression.

"Mr. Stanton," she said. "Everyone is leaving."

"What do you mean?"

"Didn't you see the email?" she asked.

Eric shook his head. He hadn't wasted any time looking through emails that morning.

"I'll read it out for you," she said and cleared her throat. "Effective immediately, we, the employees of Stanton Enterprises, resign from our positions. We no longer work under the conditions that have recently manifested. Thank you for your understanding."

The list of employees signing off beneath the message was endless – Eric saw it when he stuck his head around Tennessee's computer.

Shock and realization mingled on Eric's face as he rushed through the empty halls, witnessing vacant workstations and silent meeting rooms. The once-vibrant atmosphere of the office had been replaced by an eerie stillness – a tangible aftermath of the consequences he had unwittingly set in motion.

"Hey, Colin!" he called out to a man who had been employed by his father for as long as Eric could remember.

Colin glanced at him and kept walking.

"You're not going to talk to me?" Eric asked.

"I'm sorry, but I'm out with the rest of the staff. You have ruined your father's good name and reputation with your actions. You have let go of the best ideas and projects from Lucretia. I don't know what else you expect to happen here."

Eric was shocked. Yes, he knew he had a temper and always showed up, irrespective of how much he hated being in his role. But now, hearing Colin's words, Eric finally felt ashamed of himself.

Then, he saw Lucretia walking out with a box of her belongings, and he ran to her.

"Lulu! Lucretia!" he exclaimed. "I've changed. I get it now! I understand what I needed to do and how I've needed to work on myself. Where are you going?"

"That's enough, Sir," she said. "I'm going home because I quit. You are not worthy of all our time and hard work. You only care about yourself and your own needs. You don't worry about us and what we need. You don't care that we want to grow, learn, and expand our ideas. Goodbye, Eric."

"I'm sorry!" Eric declared to the almost empty office. "I'm guilty of everything you all think. I've been harsh, and I've wronged you all on a daily basis. I've stripped away all the joy of working here. I am sorry."

But as he shouted these words, his staff continued walking past him with their belongings.

"I will pay you all soon! And I'll give you bonuses! Just stay!" Eric continued to make promises to the emptying room.

Eric walked back to Tennessee, who was packing her belongings, too.

"Please, Ten," he said. "Just hear me out. I've been a fool. I've taken everyone for granted, and that's on me! I'm so sorry. What can I do to make it all better? Give me another chance, please."

"I'll hear you out," she said.

"Listen, greed got the best of me. I have been trying to keep this business going without having my heart in it. I've been so focused on losing my hopes and dreams for the future that I let everyone down. I focused on what I lost when I had to take over this business – trying to keep my father's name relevant so that I didn't think about what everyone else needed from me. I stopped you from growing."

"Carry on," she said.

"I've lost what makes me a decent human, and I will apologize for that. Please forgive me. And please, just tell me what I have to do to make this right for us all."

"All right, Mr. Stanton," Tennessee said. "I'll give you another chance, and I'll help you. Now, pull yourself together."

She pushed a large book into his hands.

"Take this," she said.

"What is it?" Eric asked, paging through it.

"This book contains all your employee's addresses and contact details. You'll go to every one of them and apologize personally."

"That sounds fair," he agreed. "I'll do that. Will you come with me?"

"Yes, but on one condition," she said. "You are going to take a paycheck to every single one of them. Show them that you're human and that they matter to you. Show them that you're committed to making amends."

Eric nodded at her.

He left the office with the book and the paychecks safely stored in his briefcase. He promised himself that if he saw the beggar, he would leave some money for the man. But when he stepped out, the man wasn't to be seen.

Eric wondered if he had imagined the entire thing, but he knew deep down that it was true. The world held many secrets – something that his former life wanted to uncover along the way. But now, he could not dwell on that anymore. He needed to be present for his people. He needed them to know that he was serious. He needed to make the business successful and keep his family legacy strong.

Weeks had passed since Eric embarked on his journey of redemption, visiting each employee with Tennessee, addressing their concerns, and attempting to rebuild the fractured bonds that held the business together. The once-deserted office now buzzed with life as the returning employees breathed vitality into the workplace.

Eric was pleased that everyone had returned to work. Seeing them happy reminded him that he did not need to be bitter about everything he had to give up.

"If you put in all your hard work now," Tennessee had told him. "Then you can mold someone into being your shadow – they can make the big decisions with you, and you can still go on all the adventures you dream of."

Since their journey of getting everyone back on board, Eric had grown to like Tennessee. She was no longer just his secretary but someone who had become his friend and confidant. He didn't feel so alone and lost, and as a result, he was committed to doing right by his people.

He had also started weekly team meetings, where he ensured that the boardroom was stocked with snacks and refreshments for everyone. Once resigned and disheartened, the employees gathered with cautious optimism.

At the head of the table stood Eric, the changed man. He looked at the faces before him. Faces that had once mirrored disappointment and frustration because of him were now tinged with curiosity and, perhaps, a glimmer of trust.

"I stand before you today, not as the man I was, but as someone who has learned the weight of his mistakes," Eric said. "This company is more than just a name on a building. It's a family legacy I tried to neglect and even tried to abandon at some point. But other than for my family, it's a legacy to each and every one of you sitting here. This means something to you. It is important to you to be here and grow. Which means that it is important to me."

Eric watched as everyone looked at him, waiting for more.

"I won't make any excuses for my actions. I was blind to the impact of my decisions, and I let the pursuit of success cloud my judgment. But I've seen the consequences, and I've felt the loss. And now, I want to make amends."

"And we are grateful that you want all of this for us. That you're willing to change," Tennessee said.

Eric smiled at her.

"But actions speak louder than words," he acknowledged. "I know that I have to prove myself, day in and day out, for the future, and I will."

He began to pass envelopes out around the table.

"Find one with your name," he said. "These are bonuses because you deserve it all."

*

After their meeting, Eric gestured to Lucretia.

"Lu, a word, please," he said.

"Sure," she said cautiously.

He led her to his office, eager to have the conversation he had been planning all along.

"Listen, I need a second in charge, Lu," he said. "And I think that's going to be you. I will help you get up to speed and show you the ropes. I'll give you access to all our accounts, data sets, and everything. All I need you to do is be patient with me and let me do this for you."

"I don't know what to say," she said.

"But do you accept?" he asked.

"Of course I do!"

Eric went home that evening, finally feeling fulfilled. He knew that this change was needed. He was terrified of what the beggar had told him, not just because he couldn't live his life being callous. It wasn't good for his soul.

In fact, the more he thought about it, the more convinced he was that the beggar was an oracle – just like in his ex-classmates' published papers. It was the only explanation of how the man had changed his behavior. And how he had forced Eric's hand, causing him to change everything – from his way of speaking to how he carried himself out.

"I wonder where he is now," Eric said as he sat back in his silk sheets. "I would take him out for a meal if I see him again."

But Eric also knew that he would probably never see the man again – not while he could change his face to match whomever he crossed paths with.

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