Kimberly slammed the car door, the sound echoing her fury. “You’re fired, old man! I don’t need no old man to tell me how to live my life!” she yelled, her voice dripping with disdain. Mr. Fernando, her newly appointed chauffeur, winced, the lines around his eyes deepening. Kimberly, blinded by her own self-importance, didn’t see the flash of pain that crossed his weathered face. She just spun on her designer heel and marched towards the glittering skyscraper that housed her office.
Inside, she stormed past the reception desk, her expensive handbag swinging aggressively. “Find me a new chauffeur, stat!” she barked at her assistant, Brenda. “Someone young, someone…with energy. Not some fossil who thinks he can lecture me about taking the ‘scenic route’.”
Brenda, used to Kimberly’s volatile nature, simply nodded and set to work. The irony, of course, was lost on Kimberly. She, a woman barely thirty, built her empire on the supposed ‘innovation’ of her skincare line, constantly touting its ability to rewind time. Yet, she couldn’t tolerate the mere presence of someone who had lived a long life.
The next few days were a whirlwind of meetings, deadlines, and the constant pressure to stay ahead. Kimberly found a new chauffeur, a young, eager driver named Jake. Jake drove fast, listened to obnoxious music, and, most importantly, kept his opinions to himself. He was exactly what Kimberly thought she wanted.
Then came the crisis.
Kimberly’s company, “Eternal Bloom,” was launching a new line of anti-aging serums. The entire campaign hinged on a complex and expensive algorithm that personalized skincare recommendations based on a user’s unique DNA. It was revolutionary, groundbreaking, and… completely failing.
The algorithm, which had cost millions to develop, was spitting out nonsensical recommendations. Sales plummeted, investor confidence waned, and Kimberly’s carefully constructed image began to crumble.
Days turned into sleepless nights. Kimberly screamed at her programmers, threatened her marketing team, and generally terrorized everyone within a fifty-foot radius. But nothing worked. The algorithm remained stubbornly, inexplicably broken.
Brenda, witnessing Kimberly’s increasingly erratic behavior, finally dared to speak up. “Kimberly,” she said hesitantly, “Remember Mr. Fernando, the chauffeur you… let go?”
Kimberly glared. “What about him? Is he sending me a bill for emotional distress?”
“Well,” Brenda stammered, “I overheard him talking to the security guard when he was waiting for you. He mentioned he used to work as a data analyst. For NASA.”
Kimberly scoffed. “NASA? And he’s driving a car?”
“He said he retired, but he was bored,” Brenda explained. “And he was talking about algorithms, Kimberly. Complex ones, that make this look like a child’s toy.”
Kimberly’s initial reaction was denial. Humiliation. The thought of begging that “old man” for help was unbearable. But desperation gnawed at her. Her company, her reputation, everything she had worked for, was on the line.
Finally, she relented. Brenda managed to track down Mr. Fernando.
The following week, a hesitant Kimberly stood in the doorway of a small, cluttered office. Mr. Fernando sat behind a desk piled high with papers, his brow furrowed in concentration as he peered at a computer screen filled with lines of code.
“Mr. Fernando?” Kimberly’s voice was small, almost apologetic.
He looked up, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and understanding. “Ms. Kimberly,” he said gently. “What can I do for you?”
Kimberly swallowed her pride. “I… I need your help.”
The irony was almost too much to bear. She had fired him for being old, for daring to offer unsolicited advice. Now, she was begging him to save her from the consequences of her own youthful arrogance. Little did she know, this was just the beginning. In the coming weeks, Mr. Fernando wouldn’t just fix the algorithm; he would revolutionize the entire department, proving that experience, wisdom, and a little bit of patience were far more valuable than youthful exuberance. The “old man” was about to become her savior.
