Five Minutes To Five

Five minutes to five,
and then I would escape,
just three hundred seconds
before the plans and plots would be realized.
All the strategy and deception, every detail considered,
writing down those customer facts on that piece of paper,
not risking using the copier nor the computer,
since both were monitored.

So many months of waiting
until the perfect opportunity availed itself,
then leaving the office with that information
on the back of a business card slipped into my wallet,
behind my driver’s license,
it was simple, flawless and perfect or so I assumed.

Then my boss asked to see me,
his poker face always hiding his true feelings,
he spoke of the way some employees
carelessly tossed confidential data into the trash.

Stared at me with those steel blue eyes,
reminding me that violating company privacy could lead to termination.

I mumbled a few words,
but could tell he had someone figured out my ploy,
heart beating faster as I started to sweat,
claiming I was running a temperature from having a cold.

The tension great tight in my muscles,
finally leaving his office and work,
yet aware I had managed to screw up somehow,
my con I thought was working had obviously failed,
my double life as turn coat accountant,
clearly ending with a question mark,
could I figure a way to replace that evidence
knowing I was now constantly under surveillance,
hoping I could get job with the competitor paying for other data,
though I knew they seldom rewarded those who disappointed.
And do it all before he finally found a way to prove
that I was guilty of corporate espionage.

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