Looking out the window, Alex felt an odd wave of melancholy, as if a serious problem was gnawing at him from within. A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
— Yes, it’s open! Oh, it’s you, Victor. You could’ve just walked in. What’s the situation with our two warehouses? I heard there’s an issue with the staff?
Standing before Alex was his trusted associate, who was supposed to have all the latest updates.
— Well, how do I put this, Mr. Alex Thompson? The thing is, we’re critically short on workers. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on, and as soon as I know more, I’ll report back to you.
Alex wasn’t satisfied with the response:
— No, if there’s a problem to fix, I’ll handle it myself. I’ll think about how to address it, but for now, let’s drive to the job center.
Taken aback by the request, Victor asked:
— What are we going to do there? Are you seriously planning to check the labor market?
Alex didn’t appreciate being questioned:
— I believe I told you where we’re going. Make sure the car is ready and waiting at the entrance in five minutes.
— And no unnecessary comments. I’ll decide what to do next.
Victor headed downstairs, while Alex, alone again in his lavish office, pondered why people had become so careless. Just as he began considering possible answers, a thought struck him:
“It’s all about money. Take Victor, for instance—he’s got a hefty salary, so he doesn’t bother putting in the effort for the business.”
No, this approach to work didn’t sit well with Alex. Though he was wealthy—a millionaire, no less—he still valued every penny. If there was a chance to earn more, he didn’t hesitate to seize it.
Settling into the back seat of the car, Alex pulled out the morning newspaper and, for some reason, began scanning the classifieds. Victor noticed but pretended to focus on the road. As they passed the town square and then the city park, Alex saw groups of young people, around twenty years old, idling away their time, seemingly unconcerned about their future. At that moment, the traffic light turned red, and Victor slowed to a stop. Alex leaned against the window and remarked:
— That’s how their whole lives pass: no worries, parents taking care of everything, and then they’re unprepared for independence.
Victor wasn’t sure whether to engage or stay silent. He chose to respond:
— You’re right, Mr. Thompson. They lack purpose in life, at least for now. But maybe that’ll change with time. What matters most? Exactly: the drive to grow and improve. Sadly, today’s youth have shifted priorities—they’re more drawn to chasing pleasure and idleness.
Alex nodded in agreement:
— I’ll give you that. They’ve lost their sense of direction.
Pulling into the courtyard of the job center, Victor stepped out and opened the door for his boss. Alex stretched his shoulders and headed toward the main entrance. But an unpleasant surprise awaited: a security guard blocked his path and growled:
— Entry is by appointment only. Show me your ticket.
Confused, Alex replied irritably:
— I just want to check some information. I’m not even looking for a job.
Glancing at Victor, he added:
— Find out what’s going on here and explain to this guard that he’s mistaken.
Spreading his arms as if to pat the guard on the shoulder, Victor approached him:
— Listen, buddy, let’s sort this out peacefully. No need to scare people.
He pulled the guard aside, and Alex couldn’t hear their conversation. Two minutes later, Victor returned, cheerfully reporting:
— Boss, mission accomplished. The fortress has surrendered.
Alex shot him a displeased look:
— Let’s go, comedian. Always joking around.
Inside, the job center was noisy, and Alex thought it must be a special day with people gathered from across the city. But no, it was just an ordinary day—he’d simply forgotten the last time he’d been there, probably seven years ago when he was starting his business. Much had changed since then, especially how his employees approached their duties. Most of the job center staff remained, with only a few personnel changes. Running into one of the employees in the hallway, Alex asked:
— Hello, how’s the situation with workers? Are there enough people for all professions?
Gesturing toward the crowded room, the employee replied briskly:
— As you can see, there’s no shortage of people. Everyone wants a job, and some want to switch for better pay. And you, Mr. Thompson, what brings you here? Don’t tell me you’re leaving your business to become a regular worker?
Chuckling at her joke, Alex responded:
— No, I’m doing fine with that. I just wanted to see if the situation with skilled workers is as bad as I’ve heard. I suspect someone’s pulling the wool over my eyes.
He shot a stern glance at Victor, who seemed to shrink as if from a chill. The employee shook his hand and headed back to her office. After lingering a bit longer in the hall, Alex moved toward the exit.
— We need to make one more stop. I want to buy some clothes. It’s been a while since I updated my wardrobe.
Thrilled that his boss was planning to shop, Victor didn’t hold back, speeding along. He seemed to be hoping to pick something out for himself, especially since Alex often covered such expenses. But his excitement turned to disappointment when Alex asked to stop at a discount clothing store, where the cheapest, lowest-quality items were typically sold. Victor lowered his head glumly:
— Well, I thought we were heading to the mall or, at the very least, some fancy boutique at the department store. Mr. Thompson, what are we doing here? Are you looking to change your image, or have you got something else in mind?
Ignoring his complaints, Alex approached the saleswoman and asked to see the cheapest tracksuit available. Victor watched, baffled, unable to understand why his boss was buying clothes so far below his wealthy status. As Alex continued talking to the saleswoman, he called over his shoulder to Victor:
— Take the clothes I hand you to the car. What are you staring at? Never seen someone try on a tracksuit? Remember, Victor, I’m still capable of deciding how to dress myself. If you want, you can pick something out for yourself too.
Victor declined:
— I think I’ll pass on shopping here. This place doesn’t inspire confidence, and I see no point in trading my expensive suit for cheap rags.
Alex didn’t press him:
— Suit yourself, Victor, but don’t say I didn’t offer. You know I care about how my employees look. As for these cheap clothes, I need them for the weekend out of town. I’m planning to do some gardening, so I’m preparing my outfit. What, did you think I’d wear this to the office?
Victor nodded like a parrot:
— Yeah, for a moment, I imagined what the office staff would think. By the way, about those warehouses you mentioned this morning—we should check on them sometime. The employees haven’t seen you yet, and it’s not right to keep them in the dark about who’s in charge.
Alex pushed the clothes aside and settled into the car:
— You’re thinking straight. I’ve been wanting to meet the new employees anyway. It’ll also give me a chance to check how HR is handling the staff.
Victor seemed uneasy at his boss’s last words but didn’t dare ask why Alex wanted to inspect HR. It was clear things weren’t running smoothly at the warehouses, and the crowd of job seekers at the center indirectly confirmed it. But what Alex was thinking remained a mystery. He rarely shared his plans, even with someone as trusted as Victor, keeping any surprise inspections under wraps. Still, he couldn’t resist mentioning the warehouses:
— Alright, Victor, tomorrow we’ll go see how my employees are performing. I have a right to know where my money’s going and whether it’s being misused.
Victor nodded in agreement:
— I’d do the same in your shoes, boss. No question about it. Alright, let me drive you home—I’ve still got to head to my mother-in-law’s place in the suburbs. She’s still struggling with that garden of hers.
Looking at him, Alex said:
— Fine, let’s go, or we’ll be stuck here forever. Tell me, you don’t think I’m some overindulgent millionaire who doesn’t know what to do with his money, do you?
Victor nearly lost his grip on the wheel:
— Sorry, Mr. Thompson, but I think highly of you. You don’t seem like an overindulgent millionaire. Oh, sorry, I’m rambling. I swear I won’t talk like that again.
Alex laughed:
— Relax, it’s no big deal. You just shared your opinion. Remember, Victor, everyone has the right to voice their perspective on any matter.
Relieved, Victor floored the gas pedal and reached Alex’s house in five minutes. As Alex stepped out of the car, he turned back and said softly:
— Don’t pick me up tomorrow. I’ll call and let you know when I need you. And one more thing—think about why we went to the job center today. I never do anything without a reason. There’s a deeper purpose here, and if you figure it out, you’ll earn even more privileges from me. And if you show good results at work, you definitely won’t go unrewarded.
Crossing the threshold of his apartment, Alex called out to his cat:
— There you are, hiding and refusing to come out. Come on, let’s get you something tasty to eat.
Despite his age, Alex had never married and kept his personal life private. Suddenly, his phone rang.
— Yes, Mom, I remember, and I haven’t forgotten. I was planning to do it anyway. Of course, I’ll feed her now; I just got home. Who do you want to introduce me to? No, Mom, I’m absolutely against it. Alright, we’ll talk about it later.
That was the extent of the conversation, though he wanted to discuss many things, including how to properly manage relationships with employees. Lately, Alex had been relying too much on their conscience, only to realize he’d been mistaken. The situation seemed to demand that he take matters into his own hands. Even Victor had started slacking, and Alex no longer saw him as the dependable employee he could fully trust. All he could do now was rely on his intuition and act quickly.
The cat, having eaten her fill of delicious red fish, licked her lips contentedly.
Looking at the tracksuit he’d bought, Alex shrugged and said to himself:
— Well, if the mountain won’t come to you, you’ve got to go to the mountain.
What brilliant plan had formed in his mind remained a mystery. Luckily, Victor hadn’t caught on, or Alex would’ve had to change everything on the fly. He tried on the tracksuit again and strutted proudly in front of the mirror.
— It’ll do. Perfect for a drifter.
The next day, instead of heading straight to the warehouses, Alex stopped by his countryside house. Was he grabbing tools for a tough talk with his employees? It seemed his goal was a disguise. Alex decided to pose as a poor man, even dirtying the tracksuit he’d bought for the occasion.
— No worries, you’ll serve me well today.
Driven by his idea, Alex hitchhiked to the warehouses. The moment he stepped inside, he sensed a tense atmosphere, as if it were a high-security zone rather than a commercial space. A consultant rushed up to him:
— Are you here to buy something?
Shaking his head, Alex replied:
— No, I can’t afford anything right now, but I’d love to work here. I heard you’re hiring pickers?
The consultant wrinkled her nose and replied with disdain:
— Are you sure you’re not here to shop? Well, fine, I’ll take you to HR, though I highly doubt they’ll hire you.
Luckily, Victor wasn’t at the warehouse yet, or the whole plan would’ve collapsed. The staff hadn’t seen their boss in person, and Victor would’ve recognized him immediately. Knocking on the HR office door, the consultant announced:
— Here’s a job candidate, but be careful—he looks like a homeless guy.
Alex felt insulted but swallowed his pride for the sake of his experiment. The HR employee asked him to sit:
— So, you want to work here? Do you have any idea how many people apply? We only take the most experienced.
Alex was prepared, pulling out forged credentials as a loading-unloading specialist:
— I’m exactly the kind of person you need.
The HR worker scrutinized his documents before saying:
— Still, I can’t hire you. You understand, the pay here is good, and we don’t take just anyone off the street—especially not homeless people. But we could come to an arrangement. It’ll cost you five months’ salary, paid upfront. Sorry, but you’re not needed here. Try somewhere else. Goodbye.
Alex left the warehouse just before Victor arrived. Naturally, the HR employee told him about the so-called homeless man.
— Good call kicking him out. Who knows what diseases he might’ve brought in? There’s all sorts of stuff going around.
An hour later, Alex returned to the warehouse, now clean and in an expensive suit. Seeing his boss, Victor immediately fawned:
— Everyone, please welcome our warehouse owner, Mr. Alex Thompson!
The employees whispered among themselves, as if they’d seen a ghost. The HR worker fidgeted nervously, likely feeling a chill of unease. She sensed trouble, but that was just the beginning. Alex seemed to savor his quiet victory. Scanning the faces of those he’d recently spoken to, he said:
— Victor, come with me, and bring the HR footage. There are security cameras there, right?
Stunned but compliant, Victor followed orders and soon joined Alex in his office with the recordings. Pointing to a chair, Alex commanded:
— Put the disc in the computer and call in the HR staff and the consultants.
Everyone involved gathered in the office as the footage played silently on the monitor, showing the HR employee practically forcing a man in shabby clothes out. Looking at the HR worker, Alex asked:
— Recognize anything familiar? Look closely—you won’t get a second chance.
The HR employee clutched her chest:
— I didn’t know it was you, Mr. Thompson…
Slumping into his chair, the millionaire said sadly:
— And yet I’m told we’re short on workers at the warehouses. You’re driving them away and not hiring properly. Even though I showed you specialist credentials. Sure, I didn’t look presentable, but that’s fixable. And you’re offering jobs for bribes? You should be ashamed. Remember, dear employees, people should be judged by their abilities, not their appearance. Victor, prepare an order to disband the HR department. Replace the consultants too. Then head to the job center and hire capable, hardworking people. Don’t focus on their status—just ensure they work honestly and with dedication.
Alex hadn’t expected such deceit when he applied for a job at his own company. It wasn’t just that he’d posed as a poor man, nearly a homeless one—his employees had clearly grown too bold and were unfit for their roles.
After the drastic overhaul, theft at the warehouses dropped significantly, and the new workers performed admirably. Alex didn’t spare Victor either, demoting him from assistant and personal driver to warehouse manager. In the end, the millionaire acted justly: he hired ordinary people and sent his complacent employees back to the job center.
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