Trotting. I hate trotting.
Here I am pushing my hooves all I could, and yet, that merchant mare is many lengths ahead of me already. What can I say? I was never really an athlete, even when I was a filly. I hated doing all that running in PE so much, I promised myself back then that whatever my job would be had to be something that would keep my mobility at a bare minimum. I certainly didn’t have being a mayor as my top selection, but hey, at least it’s for a small town and not San Braysisco with all those annoying hills. Then again, here I am exerting myself when some assistants could be shuttling me around in a carriage or something. Hmmm, maybe I should bring this up to the council’s attention. You never know if something terrible could happen to me while I’m running, say, if I trip on those upcoming rocks—
“Whoaaaaaaaa!”
Ow. I see stars floating above me, even though the skies clearly tell me it’s morning. I suppose that’s what I get for thinking in motion.
Pear extended her hoof, so I could get back up. How embarrassing, I thought, to have this happen in front of a new Ponyvillian, and a potential voter for my upcoming re-election campaign. Not that anypony else has a chance against me, but I wasn’t going to play it safe. I needed to demonstrate that I was strong, that I could take the punishment. I thanked the mare for the assistance, but I pushed myself up, much to the dismay of my back. It went pop, accompanied by what felt like a two-by-four broken over my spine. Yeah, I definitely need some mayoral transportation now, but as I looked around, there was not even a foal pulling along a little red wagon. How disappointing. Usually, there’s a stallion pulling along a large cart with hay, apples, or whatever other item that somepony needs in bulk. That’s when I remembered I had placed a curfew on when those can be on the roads on this side of town. You can thank the older ponies for that, since they have a bingo parlor around these parts. My acquiescence to their requests for their support had now come to bite me in the caboose.
I had to walk some more. Why me?
Fortunately, it took a measly five minutes before crossing one of the many bridges that led to Ponyville’s centerpiece, Town Hall. It’s tall, majestic, but much to my chagrin, has a big target on its façade every time trouble comes to our fair town. Right now, it’s missing the top portion, lost to a freak accident involving some runaway clouds from Cloudsdale, and there’s a wall with a gaping hole through it, thanks to Pinkie having a Party Cannon malfunction. Good thing it wasn’t on the outside wall, or otherwise, all those ponies waiting by the front door would be inside, hence, defeating the importance of what was inside my saddlebag. However, they didn’t quite appreciate my arrival, as they surrounded me with surly faces, including the Town Hall staff. They let me have it with whatever business they had here that I had delayed due to my late arrival, but thanks to my brilliance, I knew how to quell their tempers.
“Everypony!” I announced with authority. “It appears there has been a… miscommunication! Due to feedback from the community, I had decided last Friday that effective today, Town Hall would open at nine o’clock instead of eight!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my main secretary, Tidy, slapping her face. Oh that Tidy, with those square glasses and auburn mane, she’s a great assistant, but she’s always on me about how to improve myself as Ponyville’s mayor. What can I say? She’s young, and naïve. She should be jotting down notes about getting out of sticky situations, rather than show her disapproval, let alone saying it aloud in front of the denizens.
“My apologies, Madam Mayor,” she told me in that soft, but professional tone, “but I don’t recall you presenting such an initiative to the council before you left early for the day. Even if there was, by talking to the ponyfolk, you might have received incorrect responses.”
The flower shop’s owner, Rose, I believe her name is, apparently was backing up my assistant with a nod. “My store opens at nine, just like many of the shop owners around here, so it’s really convenient to come here in the morning and take care of official business.”
I could hear many others saying the same thing, exactly what I expected. Clearing my throat, “If that is the case, then I am proud to announce that I officially reverse my original decision! Town Hall will open at eight o’clock effective tomorrow!”
Beautiful. I had all of them cheering for me, save for Tidy and my staff. All she did was release a despondent sigh, while the others rolled their eyes in my direction. What they failed to realize was that instead of opening almost an hour late, I was letting everyone inside Town Hall five minutes early. I made sure to point that out as I held the door to everyone that came in, while I shook everypony’s hoof.
Tidy was the last one to come in, her nose buried in those files she carries around all the time. Sometimes, I wonder if she takes this job far too seriously. “Madam Mayor, did you have something documented about this decision you made last Friday? I can’t seem to find it.”
My poor secretary, I got her worked up about something that doesn’t even exist. I gave her a pat in the back, “Not to worry, Tidy,” adding a chuckle at the end. “Just make a note of it or something.”
I proceeded down the many hallways within the Hall, each one with doors with the department’s name adorned by a faux-gold placard. To be honest, I’ve only stepped inside maybe half of those rooms, only because I considered myself a hoofs-off type of mayor. No need to interrupt my staff, and get myself tangled up in the details. If there’s a problem, they could always come to my office, besides the all-important break room, and across from the wall adorned with pictures of Ponyville’s prior mayors. Well, okay, they used to be all there, but like I said earlier, this building is targeted so many times, the portraits keep smashing onto the floor. That’s why only my decadent image is up there now.
Swinging the double-door open, I entered my office, where oak bookcases stood on both sides, containing tomes that I’ve touched maybe twice, once when I first became mayor, and that time where I thought I placed one of my romance novels there by accident. Those, I actually keep in my sturdy, wide desk directly ahead, along with magazines, and whatever other reading material I need to keep me busy whenever there’s a lull. Tidy keeps all the important documents in her area on my right, and believe me, she does not want me to rummage into her space, where she has a photographic memory of where everything is, backed up by some weird filing system that involves tabs with both numbers and letters. She had explained to me many times how it works, but I always forget, so I just rely on her to pull up whatever I need.
Once I took my seat behind my desk, I swiveled to admire the view through my large, paneled window. There was no doubt about it, fall was approaching, as the leaves had given up some of its green for more pleasing reddish hues. While most kept their loyalty to their respective branches, a few chose to go with the wind for a dance in the warm Ponyville skies, sharing secrets that I’ve been trying to listen into since I was just a foal. I love this time of year, so I could only grumble that my agenda for today kept me indoors, at least, that’s how Tidy set it up on the sheet she placed in front of me.
I couldn’t help but pout, “Are you sure this is my schedule?”
“Yes, Madam Mayor,” she responded, unaware of my dour mood.
I wiped my glasses, just in case I had read something wrong. Nope. There it was, my crummy day in the office: Meeting with Legal forty-five to the hour, Zoning at ten, Operations at eleven, Staff Lunch, and my least favorite, budget meeting at two which would eat up the rest of my day. I let gravity take my head down for a taste of wood, something that has become a familiar taste to me.
“Can’t we push any of these off until tomorrow?” I mumbled. “There should be some things I can do outside.”
Right away, my ears picked up a wonderful sound, my secretary rearranging my schedule to something more palatable, so I raised my head with the largest grin on my face. In seconds, she had version two of my Monday’s activities, except it was a Xerox copy of the original, save for the lunch being at a restaurant rather than take-out and a ten-minute break added during the long afternoon.
My head came crashing down again, but I kept my face up this time, so Tidy could see all of my frustrations. “That’s not much better,” I whined. “Isn’t there some ribbon in this town that I can cut?”
Again, that assistant of mine worked her magic in her head. “There is that small recreation center they’re about to open at the edge of town—”
My eyes glittered at the thought of taking my sweet time getting there, and coming back.
“—but that won’t be completed for another two weeks.”
Dammit, Tidy! Why did you bother telling me this in the first place? Sometimes, I think you do this on purpose. “Well, come up with something,” I clamored, banging my hoof on the desk.
She adjusted those thick glasses of her. “Very well, Madam Mayor. In the meantime, do you want me to bring over your daily stack now?”
Ah, the daily stack, a tower full with various documents inscribed in legalese that needs my dutiful review and subsequent approval.
“Yes, of course.”
From out of nowhere, my secretary plopped in front of me a white wall that blocked my view. Who knew that such a small town would generate this much paperwork? I pulled out from one of the side drawers my weapon of choice, a stamper. That’s when my mind kicked in with a helpful ding.
“Tidy?” I beckoned, moving my head around the paper tower. “We’ll need to put in a request for more of these.” I gave her a demonstration on a blank sheet. “This one’s almost out of ink.”
“Oh, dear. That won’t do.” My secretary then trotted toward the door. “Anything else? I’m going to head out and make a supply run right now. I’ll ask the other departments on the way out.”
A cushier chair would be nice, but alas, I already knew the answer to that. “No, Tidy. You run along, and do you what you need to do. I’ll be—”
She didn’t even let me finish my sentence. I was now alone with this administrative chore to do, and believe me, it can be quite a bore. In fact, I’m already yawning just thinking about it. Darn, I should’ve asked Tidy to bring over some coffee from the break room, but I’m too lazy to get up. Oh, well. It’s not that great anyways. The excuse for its quality that I hear is that no one in this building has a cutie mark related to coffee. Pretty lame if you ask me.
I grabbed the first document from the top, and immediately, I gulped. Whoever wrote this must have done so with the attempt to drive me insane, because there was text from the nether regions of the Equestrian dictionary. Normally, I’d ask Tidy for some assistance, but with her gone, I went to the next item from the stack.
“Not again!” I said, slapping my forehead.
I suppose I could’ve stepped outside my office and ask somepony, but I was the Mayor. These were the kind of things I should know, and I was weary of relying on Tidy, or stamping something, so I don’t have to deal with it. No, I’m going to read this thing. With a nearby sprayer, I cleaned up my glasses, before I began reading.
Okay, good so far. It has my name, and of some other ponies I know. Hmm, yes. They’re asking permission for… I paused so I can yawn. …permission for… something… ordinance number… um, do they go… they go up that high? Why we do… we have so many… so many rules?
I could feel my eyelids gaining weight, which isn’t a big surprise. I was never a morning pony, and in my haste to get here, I couldn’t make a stop at that nice little eatery as I do every day. The owner must be wondering why I wasn’t there for my mocha and scrumptious Danish. Yeah, I really need that right about now, but maybe I just lay my head on the desk and rest my eyes a moment. Yes, just one moment. That’s all I need.