It's Called Karma, Baby!

Please enjoy a tale from the Hotel Baku, formally dubbed ‘The Ass and the Shrew’.

You see, the co-managers here don't see eye-to-eye. Mr. Tall is 6’ 7” and Ms. Small grows on his thigh. They share a chair that’s bigger than their desk. A melded clump of limbs that’s actually grotesque.

While holding this position, yes - you must embrace tradition. On the other hand, times are changing and our guests are wide-ranging. Hotel Baku sits inside the gates of a luxury resort. You can enter by docking in a private eastern port.

Enter the lobby; enjoy the violin quartet. Elevators are beneath the waterfall. Try not to get wet. Your room has been personalized to your every request. Each towel has been embroidered, heated, and pressed.

That lemony odor is our personal scent. It travels through every hotel vent. Try one of our three prized restaurants. They offer fine dining. Over there? Ah, yes... those are our managers whining.

Mr. Tall and Ms. Small rarely agree. Do guests receive coffee or tea? One throws a fit over a zoning permit. The other rolls their eyes and mumbles "half-wit". Mr. Tall loudly declares, "Chocolates on the bed."

Ms. Small shakes her head, “Only when they wed."

"We'll provide complimentary things. All the guests will be treated like kings. Based, of course, on how they appear. We'll turn away anyone ugly, colored, or queer." As expected, Ms. Small agrees with a sneer.

They reserve their empathy for none, often forgetting they're two fused as one.

Stuck together, the duo bickers all day. Employees take shelter in their nearest high bay. They shiver in coats because the thermostat’s locked. Anyone who asks about it gets their paycheck docked.

What do they do? This is management, stuck together like glue.

No wonder the roster’s thinning. When something goes wrong, both managers start grinning. Big man and little lady. Shouting remarks that are well beyond shady.

“Yoshimoto, come here!” a gruff voice shrieks. He waits as a young girl shuffles in, raven hair hiding her cheeks. Yoshimoto is not her name. Neither is Ti, Hong, or Lang. That’s just a sick game. Her name is Rose. “Listen, girl! You could be the reason we foreclose. Start mopping twice an hour and wash the shower,” Ms. Small crows.

“Mr. Stanley, did you fix the sink?”

Another young woman tugs at her shirt. “My name is Rebecca,” she's quick to blurt.

“I saw a big thing around the corner; hard to tell,” Mr. Tall spits. He laughs when Rebecca quietly quits. The man falls into his chair, bitter about the office he has to share. One manager ignores the swelling in his thigh. The other drafts an email with a narrowed eye.

Dear Upper Management: Mr. Tall doesn’t know the password to his computer. Piles of paperwork are shoved down the commuter. Every day, he’s in a sour mood. Yesterday, he called me a prude!

-Anonymous

Upper Management: There’s a useless link in our chain of command. Ms. Small is lazy, boring, and bland. She’s nothing but a hopeless buffoon. Please, fire her soon!

-Anonymous

When confronted, they bite back, “You’re upset about our jokes? They’re just little pokes. We have a fire to stoke, and employees to coax.” Guests line up in the lobby. Phones are ringing off the hook. The managers are 'too busy', holed up in their nook. Days pass in a constant loop. One angry letter turns into a group.

When the chaos becomes too much, Rose shuffles to their door. Today, it’s locked; as it’s never been before. “Mr. and Ms.?” she bravely knocks. Other employees join her like a chicken to pox.  

“Didn’t you hear the news?” A faint voice coos, “Ms. and Mr. got surgically removed.”

“What does that mean? Do the managers not want to be seen?” ...I think that came from Dean.

The voice giggles to themselves. “Oh no. Mr. Tall got caught in a spot, so Ms. Small bought a de-knot. The surgery gave them something called ‘the rot’, you know; where you squat and you blot. They were in a tough spot. The two of them fought, but without each other they’re shot. They had a meeting with Mr. Gott, he's the CEO or whatnot."

Rose lifts her chin to the thermostat, noticing the unlocked gem. “And what then?” She tangles her fingers in her hem.

“This is the best part,” the voice is quick to start. “On that day, Mr. Gott brought his fiancé Ray. Neither Ms. nor Mr. knew he was gay. Ms. Small started to pray. Mr. Tall turned a little grey.”

They’re all laughing now, imagining the sweat on their brow. Some people can’t accept others as they are. They prefer to inflict wounds that will scar. It’s a different matter when it’s your boss. There’s a fine line you cannot cross.

“That day, it was Rebecca working the café. She served his latte and said, ‘Remember me?’ As you can imagine, she had a lot to say.” Another soft giggle. “Mr. Tall was fired in the hallway. Hearing things go astray, Ms. Small choked on her parfait. I guess they’ve been sending ‘anonymous’ emails, with their names in the sender display.”

Terminated. They were bitter enough to be baited. Jimmying the lock, they find an office vacated. A quiet shock falls over the group, until someone lets out a loud ‘whoop’. That person cranks the temperature to warm. Working without jackets becomes the daily norm.

Rose is handed a fresh, new title. To the company, she becomes extremely vital. Positive attitudes are almost contagious. Every day, their new manager becomes more courageous. 

Four restaurants are approved and built; each menu more diverse. One restaurant, built without lights, projects images of the universe. It boasts a tasting carte and a champagne lagoon. Chocolate koi fish sparkle under the moon. It's the perfect touch for the wedding of Mr. and Mr. Goff. Did you get to see their hot air balloon take off?

As the years pass, Rose makes a company of her own. I believe it’s called ‘Where Good Things Are Grown.’ Delicate flowers uncurl every spring, staring up at sculptures crowned like kings. It's the perfect blend of vegetation and art. She curates every exhibit with nothing but heart.

Visitors leave wearing great, toothy smiles. They've hiked gardens stretching for miles. Children toss coins into a fountain spitting goo. A piece Rose has titled 'The Ass and the Shrew'. Faces poke out from rusted metal. And, yes, it is meant to unsettle.

Funnily enough, next door is the jail. One misshapen figure delivers the other one mail.

Now, you'll want to hear this. Mr. Tall called a slender man 'Miss'. A simple mistake, until he strong-armed a kiss. That slender man was on his way to enlist. No surprise; he threw a solid fist. It wasn't a cheery day in court. The judge doesn't count bullying as a sport.

Ms. Small, on the other hand, drives a mail cart all year. You can tell it's her by the signature sneer. She shoves letters through slats. Her only companions are a few rabid cats. Folded up in her cart, they find her rather odd. A shrunken woman, calling everyone flawed.

Safe to say your attitude affects your outcome. A glum, boring chum always feels numb. Those who are kind are never behind. Good things are hidden in life for them to find. They learn, oftentimes, their futures and their dreams are perfectly aligned.

People like Mr. and Ms. get their karma too. Feeling blue, they make you feel... well, less you. Remember, their bad luck’s never through. They're all askew, with nothing to pursue. That’s not the life for someone like you.

I guess the message is:

Think before you do.