He owned an impressive collection of mismatched socks (all acquired on different continents, no less), could make an award-winning sandwich (so good, it could win a Nobel Prize if it were allowed), and had an uncanny ability to talk to his plants—just ask Silli-Srini the House Plant, who was quite the conversationalist once you got past his “leaves.”
But there was one thing Bob lacked:
the ability to trust his own judgment.
So, in a moment of extreme self-doubt, he enlisted the help of his trusty sidekick—Sir Dyer, his pet RAT, who had the kind of decisiveness Bob could only dream of while in Sleep.
Every day, Bob would face life-altering decisions:
blue shirt or red shirt?
Coffee before breakfast or breakfast before coffee? (Important stuff, clearly).
And who would decide? Why, Sir Dyer, of course.
After all, the RAT’s sense of style was PERFECT... or so Bob believed, even though Sir Dyer only wore the same tiny cape and monocle every day (clearly the mark of a true fashion).
One fine morning,
Bob had a job interview. The day had arrived—the day he would change his life forever. Or, more likely, the day he'd somehow walk into the office wearing socks that didn’t match and make an unforgettable first impression. But before anything, Bob had a crucial decision:
Should I wear the blue shirt with a pizza stain (my lucky stain, after all) or
the red shirt that makes me look like a walking traffic light with a rude attitude?
“Sir Dyer, guide me,” Bob asked with GREAT CONFUSION, as if he were about to face a big, scary FASHION COMPETITION/Rat Race with Style, not just choosing a shirt
The Rat moved quickly to the left. Victory! The blue shirt it was.
Bob proudly donned the pizza-stained masterpiece, feeling like a man destined for greatness, or at least like someone who had just returned from a pizza store. He set off to the interview, sure that Sir Dyer’s impeccable wisdom would lead him to glory.
Arriving at the office, Bob sat down, feeling like the chosen one. He was about to shine. But then, the interviewer—let’s call her Susan—stared at him, eyes flickering from his face to his chest... back to his face. The awkward silence stretched longer than Bob's unpaid parking tickets. Bob felt it. Sir Dyer had failed him.
"So, Bob," Susan began slowly, eyeing the stain. "Nice... shirt bob. Do you, uh, happen to work in a pizzeria?"
Bob froze. The pizza stain. Of course! Sir Dyer had judged him too hastily. His confidence deflated faster than a balloon with a puncture.
But then, in a flash of brilliance, Bob remembered something:
No one can give you worth. No one can take away your ground - A quote found in the DPMP Blog.
Sir Dyer, despite his wisdom in choosing shirts HIMSELF, could not determine Bob’s value. That was Bob’s job. And Bob was ready to take charge—after all, who better to trust than someone who could communicate with plants?
With newfound resolve, Bob cleared his throat, smiled, and said,
“Actually, I don’t work in a pizzeria. But if I did, I’d be the best pizza-taster you’ve ever met sir. Also, about the job—I’ve got some serious skills. And pizza, if you’re interested. I can make an average tomato sauce.”
Susan blinked. Then, much to Bob’s surprise, she laughed. “Well, Bob, I like your attitude. And that pizza shirt... It’s bold. You’ve got the job.”
Moral of the Story:
Seeking approval from others is like asking a RAT Sir for directions—it might be cute, but it’s not reliable. No one can “give” you worth. No one can “take away” your ground. Trust yourself, be bold, and don't let anyone or anything (especially not a RAT ) decide your fate. And always, always, wear a shirt you can be proud of… pizza stains and all.
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