Book of Boris — Chapter XLIII: The Crown in Silence
Some nights, the battlefield isn’t a war—it’s a grocery aisle.
Two people tag-teamed one stretch of shelves, fronting like they were holding it down. Meanwhile, I moved through three aisles alone. Freight vanished, backstock folded, and the clock hit early release.
That’s the part that cuts deep. Not because I said anything, but because my work spoke louder than their chatter. You can’t argue with results when the doors close at 10:35 instead of 11:30.
Here’s the truth:
- Some wear the crown loud.
- Some chase the crown.
- And some take it in silence, by simply doing the job better than anyone else.
I didn’t need a speech. I didn’t need to prove I was new or old. I just worked. And in the end? That crown was mine—earned, not borrowed.
And if you step in my lane with your high-and-mighty attitude? I’m snatching that crown, DDTing it, and then handing it back to you—just so you never forget who put you down.
Mic dropped.
#work #BookofBoris #strength #silence #execution #retail #glitch
Want me to also prep a lighter, smug one-liner version you can toss in comments if someone asks “what’s this about?”