“You’re just a snivelling yes man aren’t you?” the old crone said disparagingly.
I stood before her my head bowed in humiliation. A humiliation compounded by my being before her and the village committee.
The crone looked down her curving beak of a nose and sneered in derision. “You couldn’t say no could you? You are just a snivelling snit. Get out of my sight.”
I looked up into her eyes to see the anger burning in her black eyes which sat uncomfortably on either side of her nose that I was sure stretched into infinity from where her eyes observed it.
As I left the room the humiliation continued as the assembled townsfolk began to chant “Yes man” over and over as I walked disgraced from the room.
It wouldn’t be easy to get over this. Shame isn’t something easy to step away from. I’d been subject to getting caught, my hands in the till, so to speak, and my friend Rufus was basking in his own feigned innocence as he hadn’t been caught but rather seen as the one who prevented me from getting away with my dastardly crime.
When he asked of course I said yes, who wouldn’t when he said it would be a piece of piss to get away with the strawberry crème cake. But now I was pissed off as he was away scot free and I had been shamed in front of all the village.
It’s hard to say no I thought as I trudged along the street towards home. People don’t like no. They like yes. Until that is it lands you in hot water like it did me. I have to be more resilient I thought. Say no. Consider the consequences. Well I told myself I had considered them. They all said yes!
I arrived home to find someone had sprayed “YES MAN” in red paint on my front door. Oh no I thought I’ll have to get out and clean it off. Further humiliation.
But first the root of all this trouble had to be dealt with. The strawberry crème cake awaited its disposal in my mouth. Yes, I though as I gulped down the last mouthful, it had been worth all the yeses.