During a walk through the office, the boss showed her the large walk-in vault which held the most valuable items. He handed her the combination and invited her to open it.
The young woman had learned about vaults in a three-hour class, four weeks before. She had learned about several different types of combination locks, all of which operate differently. In the same class, she had learned how to re-set a combination and how to repair a stuck or broken lock. Four weeks before. In three hours.
She studied the huge, black, silent dial. She looked at the numbers. The new boss, the man she was desperate to impress, stepped back, crossed his arms, and said nothing.
So she tried the combination. Right first, or left? She didn't remember so she tried one way. When that didn't work, she tried the other. No luck. Maybe there should be two rotations between numbers instead of only one. No. Maybe two, then one. Nothing. The door remained stubbornly closed.
The young woman began to perspire. She wiped her hand on her new uniform skirt, the skirt she had pressed early this morning with such care, with such hope and excitement, and tried again.
No.
She realized, very suddenly, that she might cry. Then she stole a glance, just a quick sideways flick of the eye, at her new boss.
On his face she saw a knowing, sarcastic smile.
At that moment, although she didn't recognize it until much later, she thought, "You son of a bitch. Some day I'll get you for this."
She never forgot that experience. She never forgot how she felt that day. She never liked her boss, and never trusted him. She never went a step out of her way to make him look good. It took ten years, but she got him.
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