“Real integrity is doing the right thing, knowing that
nobody’s going to know whether you did it or not.”
The morning sun is rising behind you, but it’s reflection from the top of the glass skyscraper almost outshines it. You’re a block away from the looming building and are weaving your way through the sidewalk traffic like a pro even though this is only your second visit to the big city. Refusing to take the bus has its advantages—not only do you stay on your feet, which you do as much as possible since you’re not on the track team anymore—you also get to know the city a whole lot better.
Rounding a corner, the logo for the Omega Integrity Corporation makes your heart skip a beat. You quickly calm yourself… you wouldn’t be walking into the building for a second job interview if they didn’t think you had what it takes.
You approach the reception desk, which is already buzzing with activity even at 7:30am. A young, blonde female with an office phone pressed against her ear smiles at you as you rest your elbows on the marble surface. You casually take a candy from the dish in front of you, even though you don’t really want it, and pop it in your mouth. A few seconds pass, and the female, who appears to be around your age, hangs up the phone and approaches you.
“May I help you?” She asks.
“I’m here to see Greg Channing,” you say, hoping to impress. Greg Channing is the CEO, and it feels good to name drop. You say no more, letting the girl wonder what business a young college graduate like yourself would have with the head of a major corporation.
Your smugness is short lived. “Regarding?”
“An interview,” you shrug. “I’m here for an interview. Second interview.”
“Just one second,” the smile is gone, replaced with efficient professionalism as she picks up her phone and dials a number. After a few mumbled phrases, she looks up and clicks down the receiver. “His assistant, Beth, will be right down to get you.”
“Great, thank you.”
As the girl turns to greet another guest, you shuffle your feet and end up near a trash bin where you spit out and throw away the candy in your mouth. You reach into your pocket for a stick of mint gum. It’s the same flavor you noticed Greg Channing chewing during your last interview, and figured it couldn’t hurt if he smelled something familiar about you the second time you met.
You are surprised at how calm and collected you are, given how it is probably the most important day of your life. You are going to leave the building today either confident you’d be making three figures fresh out of college working directly beside of one of the most influential CEOs in America, or you’d be back to living in your mom’s basement feeling like a miserable stereotype.
Your fingers absentmindedly trace the contours of a wall in front of you. Suddenly, across the lobby and behind you, someone gasps. Before you can turn around, the fire alarm goes off.
Concerned, you hastily walk back to the reception desk. The girls behind the counter are scrambling, most of them on their phones. The one who helped you notices you approach and masks the receiver with her hand. “Go outside, I’m sure it will be over soon.”
You calmly exit the building with a swell of other people. A few moments pass, and you’re pushed further away until you’re almost standing in the street. You look to your left, where the sun continues to rise. In the mass of people still making their morning commute, a person on a bicycle stands out. She is pedaling toward you as fast as she can, almost running into cars and pedestrians as she does.
You realize that you are in her direct path. She is barreling toward you. You can either step into the street to avoid her, or hope she knows enough to go into the street herself. Before you can think of what to do, she collides with a large man at the corner.
The bike flies out from underneath her. You actually hear an “oomph” as she hits the ground on her tailbone. As soon as the man runs away from her and ducks into an alley, you realize he took her purse.
“Oh, no!” She screams, disoriented. Instinctively, you rush over to her as everyone else stares. As you get closer, you see that you recognize her as the CEO’s executive assistant.
“Beth, right?” You put out a hand.
She is distraught. Blood is pouring out of her nose and pooling onto her shirt. You realize she did not merely collide with the man… he punched her. She tries to run in the direction of her attacker and, in her stupor, does not notice a limousine speeding down the street before it hits her.
Your pulse races. You stagger toward her limp body in the street, and the limo driver rolls down his window and curses.
You grab her shoulders and roll her onto her back. She winces and opens her mouth in a silent scream. You shout for someone to call 911. Beth blinks, and mumbles something. You lean closer. “My bag.”
You look up. The attacker went down the alley on the other side of the street. You swear you see a shadow, and know which direction he went.
Another stranger approaches, and reaches for her shoulders. He tries to pull her onto the sidewalk, and she screams.
“Don’t move her!” You shout. “She’s broken. Wait for the ambulance. Did anyone call 911 yet?!”
“We need to move her,” the man argues.
“My bag,” she cries. “I can’t lose my bag!”
You’re torn. You know you should stay with her so nobody moves her in the time it takes the ambulance to arrive. On the other hand, you’re confident in your ability to chase down her attacker and get the bag back, hopefully impressing her and the CEO with your bravado by doing so.
Voting ends Monday at 9pm EST.
Gotta go after the attacker. You can charge someone else to watch her, but only you saw where the attacker went. If you dont go after him, no one else can or will.
I would stay by her side to make sure that no one moves her. You can give description of the attacker to the police and they can find him. Also it would be dangerous on your part to run after the attacker.
She is dying and all she wants to talk about is her bag. She does not want the man to take her bag. She didnt call out for her husband or ask you to stay with her. She did not even know that you were talking to her. Thats how out of it she was. Yet, she was still coherent enough to stress the bag.
And as the assistant to mr. big shot, the odds are that the bag is important to HIM too. Go get the bag!