ENTRY # 5: The Right Thing.

I did the right thing, I did the right thing, I did the right thing! Dear diary, I know you know that I did the right thing; don’t you?

In my last entry I told of how worried I was about Jerry right? Well that became pointless as Jerry eventually deteriorated so much that mere worrying about him seemed foolish. Yes dear diary, I know you’re smart and you’ve noticed I’m using past tenses, and yes, it means that I’ve taken the big step about Jerry. It was my responsibility dear dairy, I had to do it, and it was the right thing to do too! Sorry, I forget myself, I wouldn’t deny you all the details so let’s start at the beginning.

I finally decided to investigate the cause of Jerry’s erratic behavior after he sent me another Statement with major errors. I was far from pleased by this as I had to give up valuable work time to proof read and correct his Statements and schedules so that they could pass for viable source document. Jerry had always been conscientious with his work to the point of eccentricity thus, this new found sloppiness simply proved that all wasn’t right.
I was able to detain Jerry for an overly due discussion when we met in the Kitchenette later that day. I was working really late and had gotten hungry so I had gone down to grab a quick snack when I met him guzzling intently from his coffee mug.  I was slightly surprised to see him as I had thought I was the only one left in the office; but I was absolutely stunned when I called his name and he started so violently that the mug slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor, spilling an amber colored liquid all over.
I immediately picked up the whiff of alcohol from the spill; yes, I had caught Jerry drinking in the office. I couldn’t understand this, it was way past COB, if Jerry wanted to indulge in a jolly tip of the bottle, why not do it at home or at a bar or someplace else, why the office?

“Jerry?” was all I could say as he stood there, staring at me bleary-eyed; then he seemed to snap out of his trance and grabbed my arm imploring,
“Ari, please you can’t tell anyone about this; I beg you with all that’s pure and righteous!”
“Jerry, first of all, you are trying to break my arm; secondly, you owe me some major explanations; so let go of my arm, and take a sit”.  I sat opposite Jerry that night, watching him battle with his demons; fighting with himself whether he should come clean with me, and how clean. Since he was less than sober however, he soon began to talk, there was no stopping him until all had been said. 

I was shell shocked when Jerry ended his confession; the man was facing some major issues: an impending divorce from his high school sweetheart and the arrest of his uncle, benefactor, and more or less foster father, by the EFCC. These were really weighty issues and I could easily sympathize with his new found love for the bottle. The poor man was buckling under pressure! I convinced myself that this was a one off mistake and could be overlooked. Jerry was too sensible to put his entire career in jeopardy thus it was safe to conclude that there wasn’t going to be a repeat of this incidence. I could let it slide, after all, it was way past COB and more than just being a colleague, Jerry was a friend; what was that they said about a friend in need? I consoled Jerry as much as I could and extracted several promises from him that he was going to get his act together from then on.

I considered this confrontation successful as it had been minimally painful on my part at least; thus you can understand my immense surprise dear dairy when two days later, I saw Jerry generously lacing his coffee with liquid from a small flask he pulled out from his suit jacket. Since he didn’t see me, my first instinct was to creep away and avoid the immediate confrontation. But dear dairy, I was a nervous wreck for the rest of the day. I felt like an accomplice to some heinous crime! I had caught Jerry drinking in the office during official working hours and I didn’t even have the nerve to stop him in the act. I felt really sinful, as thought I had been drinking too. But that wasn’t half of it! I suddenly noticed that Jerry had developed a liking for coffees and fruit juices, and constantly had either a mug or a tall glass in hand at every point in time; and the longer these utensils remained in his hand, the more bumbled up his reports became. 

Because I suspected the worst, I decided to investigate again. I got my chance one afternoon after launch hour. Jerry just had drowned a particularly large glass of pineapple juice, barely touching his food, when the lunch party broke up. I cleared the dishes I used for lunch to the sink, and while pretending to wash my hand, bent low enough to sniff Jerry’s empty glass. Yup! There it was, the unmistakable whiff of alcohol. I returned to my desk with cold feet and sat there thinking. Jerry had become brash and careless enough to drink publicly at lunch; he was officially out of control. I looked out of my work station and saw Temi leaving Jerry’s with a thick scrawl on her face. She finally opened up to me later that day in my car (she usually joins me home as she lives along my route and 'prefers to be driven drive'- rolling my eyes)
“Ari, I don’t know what’s up with Jerry these days o! but whatever it is, I thinks he’s handling it wrongly. He’s messing up so much at his job, it won’t be long before he does something that one of us won’t be able to cover, and may even be detrimental to our department and combined efforts!”
“Why, what are you talking about?” I pretended
“Are you blind or something Ari? haven't you seen that everybody avoids Jerry and his F-ups these days? He’s sinking and if care is not taken, he’s going to drag someone- if not everyone- down with him. God! He makes me so nervous these day, with those his suspicious coffees and juices!”
I spent a long time unable to sleep that night, fearing for Jerry and my entire team; it didn’t help matters that Mr. Olivier was half way across the globe on business, meaning that we were left to our own devise. I wished badly that he was here; he’d have known what to do about this matter. Before I could get any sleep that night, I had to promise myself that I was going to have another talk with Jerry, and a very serious one this time.

All through my preparation and drive to the office the next morning, I debated in my mind the best time to approach Jerry with ‘The Talk’, and since I couldn’t reach any meaningful conclusions on the subject, I realized it was all a subconscious avoidance method and decided to speak with Jerry immediately I got to the office; before I had the time to talk myself out of it. I got to the office quite early that morning but I had no fear; Jerry was the earliest bird in the department. Without stopping to keep my bags at my desk, I strode purposefully to Jerry’s workstation. He was in the office quite alright but wasn’t at his desk at that moment; I decided to wait. Seeing an the opportunity to check my mails, I pulled out my phone only to discover I had a low battery. I had drain all the juice in it last night, listening to ‘white noises’ reputed for aiding one fall asleep. It didn’t work off course, I was wide awake most of the night! At least it did make my phone fall asleep due to a drained battery (maybe that was its real purpose).

I reached beneath Jerry desk to grab his phone charger, then I wished I hadn’t because lying there in the waste paper bin, in plain sight too, was an empty bottle bearing an exotic label that couldn’t have belonged to an ink company or any other office supplies manufacturer I could think of. I pick up the bottle and sniffed it; sure enough, it was the dreaded stuff. My mind reeled! The cleaning company for the office work in the early hours of the morning, making sure everywhere was tidy and done before 6:00 am. The presence of this bottle in the trash and the residue in the bottle meant that it had given up its content less than an hour ago! 

“Ari?” 

I started as Jerry called my name from behind me and banged my head twice as I tried to wiggle out from beneath the table. I didn’t realize that I had gone all the way under in my investigator mode, and trying to wriggle out on my 5” high stilettos involved moves that could easily pass for Olympics standards. After I managed to come free, and not without help from Jerry whose expression betrayed his great puzzlement at my position, I hardly knew where to start 'the talk' from.
“If we weren't the only two people in this office right now, I'd have have though you were hiding from someone. What were you doing beneath my desk Ari?” Jerry asked. Either my intense embarrassment or the alcohol I could perceive in Jerry’s breath triggered my rage, and I lost all tact.
“You’ve been drinking in the office again Jerry” I spat out in anger
“Is that why you were practically inside my trash can? Are you some kind of investigator now or you are just plain stalking me?” he replied, short tempered too.
“It’s not even 6:30 am yet! So alcohol is now your breakfast? And you have to dine in the office too?” I was almost yelling; his attitude was stroking my rage.
“Do I look drunk to you? I have it under control Ari, just let it slide” he said and brushed passed me (less than gently I must add) to take his seat
“I did let it slide the last time remember? You need help Jerry”
“And you need to learn to mind your damn business Ari! Now if you would excuse me, I’d like to work”

Jerry was beyond reasoning, and I had been dismissed. I couldn’t believe it, I was glad we were the only two in the department at that time; nobody had been there to witness our show down. I grabbed all my bags, feeling foolish now for not dropping them at my desk before, and stalked away. I spent the entire morning distracted. I wondered if Jerry knew that his work was suffering, that he was stressing out the entire department, or that his relationship with everyone had been drawn too thin to exist. It was in this state of quandary I went to join the lunch crowd only to meet more tension. Conversation around the table was subdued and uneasy, and it was very easy to identify the cause. Jerry was there enjoying, much more than his meal, an unusually tall glass of lemonade which we all knew was 50% whiskey or whatever alcoholic substance he was currently using to keep his artificial buoyance. Suddenly, Jerry had become a menace to everyone. Temi could not stop fiddling with her table napkins, and when he finally emptied his glass and left the table, there was a collective, almost audible sigh of relief. This was beyond tolerance or friendship, and I finally made up my mind to blow the whistle (God, I hate that phrase!). 

At my desk, I dialed the dedicated number and slammed down the receiver before a connection was made five times; alternatively scared witless or intensely angry with myself for being such a chicken and a snitch. I felt as though all the forces of good and evil in the world were at war, with the proverbial angel and demon that were supposed to be on my right and left shoulders respectively, already rolling on the floor, locked in tight combat while I tried to ignore the both them. I dialed again and made a connection this time, but immediately began to pray fervently that the phone is not answered on the other end. God obviously ignored that prayer because a smooth masculine voice soon came on. I breathlessly make my report, being as precise as possible while speaking very fast, before the demon on the floor gets a chance to get up and snatch the phone from my grasp. When I eventually hung up, I felt every bit like the wicked witch of the east, and hoped that a house doesn’t eventually fall on me.

Intently pondering on the action I had taken brought to consciousness the huge relief I felt and the acute sense of the rightness of it. Whatever the outcomes were, I was prepared to deal with them; reporting the Jerry-situation to the right authorities was the best thing I could have done for the company, for my team, and for Jerry both as a colleague and as a friend. Sometimes, the right thing is not always easy, but it always right; and that cannot be compromised…

(Disclaimer: Aria's Note is largely fiction, as such, names, characters, businesses, organisations, associations, places, events and incidents are product of the author's imagination. any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, events, locales, associations or organisations is entirely coincidental.)