The next morning I pick up the letter from the investment firm Mynard INVEST to call them and put me through to the boss.
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Mynard is in a meeting right now," a secretary informed me in a very nasal voice. "Should I give him a message?"
“Yes, this is Emma Leimann, the owner of Café SchLemma speaking . Please call me back as soon as possible because I have something extremely important to discuss with your boss. "
"Well, Mr. Mynard is always very busy ... But of course I'll direct your request to him, and when he finds time he will call you back."
I grip the phone a little tighter in my hand so that my knuckles are white. "When he finds the time?" I repeat with difficulty, barely able to hold back an indignant snort. “This is about my existence, damn it! He has to find time for it! "
"Of course, Frau ... er ... Leimann," she whistles, unimpressed by my urgent tone. 'But like I said - Mr Mynard is a very busy man. You have to be patient. ”Before I can say anything else, she says goodbye and hangs up.
I stare at my phone in disbelief and finally stamp my foot. "Stupid, greedy real estate hag!" I grumble extensively and put the receiver back on the ward. Then I take my bag and leave my little apartment to go back to the café, which is only two streets away and where the small rush starts at lunchtime.
Once there, I let all my anger and disappointment out on a cake that has just been baked, so that the kitchen worktop looks like a battle has taken place there afterwards. I only feel relieved to a certain extent and am wondering whether I should eat the mess or start crying. Maybe I'll combine both options.
"Jesse, what happened here?" Daria, one of my two employees, comes through the swinging doors and looks at me with raised eyebrows. "Is this one of your new creations?" She points to the chaos on the record.
"Born out of boundless despair," I mutter to myself and take a deep breath to pull myself together again and straighten my hunched shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll clear the battlefield right away."
"Do you need a pick-me-up?" Daria asks with a smile. "A latte macchiato with extra hazelnut syrup?"
"That would be a dream," I reply with a sigh, and immediately shake my head. “But you've got enough to do already. Go and provide our guests with your charming little jokes, I'll clear up the chaos and make the coffee myself. In a few minutes I'll be with you and give you a hand. "
"Oho, boss, I will hardly be able to refuse this offer, what!" She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and disappears through the swinging doors.
Daria likes women and has often and not exactly given me to understand that she would like to pull me on her side of lesbian power, if I just let her do it. But unfortunately I like guys. Well, better said: men. Real men who have both feet firmly on the ground and are reliable. Men who don't lie and betray you. But I have rarely seen such specimens lately. Furthermore, I don't have the time to maintain a serious relationship, which now seems even more improbable thanks to the impending rent increase. And that brings us back to the point that is responsible for the chaos on the kitchen counter.
"Stupid, greedy real estate shark!" I grumble again and set about cleaning up the battlefield.
In the afternoon I go back to my apartment to dial the busy Mr. Mynard's number. I end up with the nasal secretary again, who either has a cold or really the most annoying voice I've ever heard. Was he hiring her on purpose so that people could hang up on the phone quickly and not bother him with their problems? At least that would be a smart move.
“Hello, Ms. Leimann is here again. I need to speak to Mr Mynard urgently, ”I say with a lot of emphasis in my voice.
"Yes, they must all ..." She clears her throat and takes on her business tone. "Mrs. Leimann -"