A Glimpse of the Future.

The following Tuesday, I flew to Washington, D.C. The flight was uneventful and until I arrived at the airport. I couldn't find my luggage. After some checking I learned my luggage was lost! That meant I spent that night and the next morning without a change of clothing. Finally, the next day around noon, I was informed my luggage had been found and it was being delivered to my hotel room. I was relieved, but I couldn't help but wonder if the inconvenience hadn't been arranged.

The next couple of days was free from the constant harassment that I was experiencing at work. The brief respite from the daily terrorism only served to allow the hate, anger and frustration that had built up in me to rise to the surface. Without constantly being on the defensive against the harassment, my feelings were surfacing and I found it frightening how uncontrollable the rage inside was. I kept wondering how long I could keep my emotions and actions under control and what would be the ultimate result of all the terrorism and torture to which I was being subjected. Just as these thoughts raced through my mind, fate gave a glimpse at my possible future.

I was sitting at the hotel bar, waiting to go to dinner when I struck up a conversation with a man who had consumed a few too many drinks. After some idle chit-chat the man became inquisitive.

"Who do you work for?" He queried.

"RAM" I replied.

His reaction was intense and totally unexpected.

"I hate RAM. I use to work for them and they destroyed my whole life. I just got a divorce, you know. I still have a small house. It's not much, but it is all I have left."

"What did you do for them?"

I'm an attorney." He replied. "I was a patent attorney for RAM."

You could have knocked me off the chair with a feather. "What did they do to you?" I asked.

"I can't talk about it, but I hate RAM!"

I tried several more times to find out what had happened to cause his demise, but he seemed afraid to talk about it. Later he started talking to the bartender about going hunting and killing. The bartender who was a Vietnam veteran was visibly upset by the man's constant talk about killing and he finally offered the customer a free drink if he would just change the subject. I sat there wondering if I was looking at myself down the road in three or four years.