01/02/2026
She humiliated the old man thinking he was a beggar... But upon discovering who he was, they were left in shock. See more: https://fcsunearth.blog/bb6ux8
It was a Tuesday morning when Benedito stopped in front of a forty-story building, all glass and steel, standing like a giant in the city's financial heart. At the entrance, a golden plaque shone with an almost insolent pride: “Excellence Corporation. Excellence in Results.” He adjusted his checkered shirt, faded by time, felt with his fingers that the documents were still in his worn-out jeans pocket, and took a deep breath before pushing the revolving door.
The contrast hit him in the face like a cold blast. The lobby looked like something out of an architecture magazine: Italian marble polished like a mirror, crystal chandeliers that cost more than a modest house, and that unmistakable scent of expensive leather mixed with imported perfumes, trapped in the air conditioning. Impeccable employees walked quickly with tablets in hand, talking on phones in low, confident voices, as if time were worth money in every syllable.
Benedito was in his sixties, with slightly messy gray hair and a rare sense of tranquility—the kind found in people who have nothing to prove. His boots were clean but old; his pants had a small patch on the knee; his shirt, carefully ironed, looked dull from years of use. In his breast pocket, he carried a folded photo. Sometimes he touched it without realizing it, like someone reaching for an amulet.
When he approached the reception desk, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Larissa Monteiro, the head receptionist, stopped typing and looked at him with an expression that mixed surprise with annoyance, as if something that shouldn't happen had just occurred. She was thirty, wearing an impeccable navy blue blazer, with a cold, professional smile: a perfect mask to keep her distance from anyone she considered “out of place.”
—“Good morning,” —Benedito said calmly—. “I’d like to speak with someone from the Human Resources department.”
Larissa blinked, processing the scene as if it didn't fit the script of her day. —“Sir… do you have an appointment?” —“No, but I can wait.”
The answer, simple and firm, left her speechless for a few seconds. She looked around, seeking support. Several people passing by slowed their pace, casting curious glances at the man who clearly didn't seem to belong to this polished world.
—“Sir,” —she tried to maintain her professional tone—, “Human Resources doesn't see anyone without an appointment… and, well… are you looking for a job?”
The question was loaded with assumptions. In her head, it was obvious: someone dressed like that could only be looking for a cleaning or security position—something that wouldn't normally come through the main reception.
—“I’m not looking for a job,” —Benedito replied, his tone unchanged—. “I have an important proposal to present to the company.”
Larissa couldn't help but let out a short, audible snicker. Before Benedito could say more, Márcio Silva, the first-floor supervisor, appeared. Forty years old, in a well-tailored gray suit and Italian shoes that clicked “on purpose” against the marble. He had a dangerous habit: measuring a person’s value by the price of their clothes.
—“Larissa, what’s going on?” —he asked, without looking at Benedito as one looks at a real person. —“This gentleman says he has a proposal for the company.”
The way she said it turned the situation into a joke. Márcio examined him from head to toe and spat with disdain: —“Sir… are you sure you’re in the right place? This is Excellence Corporation. We don’t see door-to-door salesmen.”
In the surrounding area, several employees drifted closer to watch. Whispers. Crooked smiles. Benedito felt them turning him into a spectacle, but he kept his back straight and his gaze serene.
—“I understand my appearance might seem strange,” —he said—. “But I am here on a serious matter.” —“A serious matter?” —Márcio repeated as if hearing a joke—. “This company moves millions. Our clients are the largest corporations in the country. What 'serious' matter could someone like you possibly bring?”
That phrase, “someone like you,” hung in the air like poison. Benedito pulled out some folded papers, a bit wrinkled from use. —“These documents prove my connection to this company.”
Márcio didn't even look at them. He waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. —“Anyone can print papers these days. That doesn't mean anything.”
Then, the elevator doors opened and Priscila stepped out—an executive feared even by those with high salaries. Forty years old, in a designer suit, with heels that clicked with authority, carrying a leather briefcase that looked more like a weapon than an accessory. She stopped when she saw the commotion, and her gaze fell upon Benedito with a mixture of disgust and indignation.
..Continued in the comments
