Oct 10 Antagonist Voice

I don’t like everyone. It doesn’t mean I have no friends, it just means that there are some I think are below me, and I let people know it. People have asked me when I began to act this way, when did I know. I have a response.

It was during an internship, the summer between high school and college. I was working at a public relationships agency, a job my father had set up. The firm had worked with my father’s law office during a highly intense defense of a politician, helped the client reinvent himself, and made him more pleasant to the jury.

I was placed under the tutelage of a junior vice president, Millicent Kendrick. Ms. Kendrick showed me around, told me who I needed to be nice to, and who were to be avoided, since they couldn’t advance the career. She knew I was just an intern, but she thought it helpful nonetheless.

A week went by and all I did was assist Ms. Kendrick: do some errands, call clients to confirm appointments, type some forms. When I finished that first Friday, she came to me and informed me come Monday I would do her job for the day.

“I want to see if you’ve learned anything watching me.” I wanted to tell her I wasn’t watching, but it would have been a lie. I observed how she worked with clients and employees, how she used her charm, whit, and intelligence to get ahead.

“I’ll do my best,” was my response. She smiled.

Monday came and I was ready. Over the weekend, I made a list of employees, writing notes on whether or not they would help me get ahead. Those who would help were few; everyone seemed to be beneath me, and I was right.
No one was at my level; no one was as intelligent as I was. No one had my breeding. No one had my wit and charm. I was superior to even the most seasoned employee. I was their better.