Ten

Jack Kerouac wrote his masterpiece, On the Road, in three weeks. In that same time all I’ve done is gain ten pounds. Though I have no friggen’ clue how that’s possible considering that ever since my little fuck-up I haven’t had much of an appetite- which sucks because I really want to eat.

        I still don’t give a fuck about anything- least of all, work. That’s why I’m quitting. No, I don’t have anything better lined up. Yes, it’s irresponsible. You know what? I don’t give a fuck. My whole life has been about being responsible and look where it’s got me. I’m a model of fucking success.

        I was going to stick it out- the job – but then my shitdick boss had this grand idea about making me write and sign a “personal conduct” contract. What the fuck is that, I ask you. I’m sure it’s in a business book somewhere. What a douche.

        I promise to not slouch in my chair.

        I promise to only wear jeans on Friday.

        I will only take one hour for lunch.

        I will only view Internet sites related to our business.

        I will not wear noise-cancelling headphones while at work.

        I promise to not read the paper in the restroom.

        I will stop fucking Jen in the supply closet.

        The last one I put in the contract to see if he’d notice. He didn’t find it humorous. Probably because he has a crush on Jen.

        Too bad she wants nothing to do with him. I think she likes me though. And I am newly single. Remind me that I need to flirt with her.

 

        I haven’t decided when I’ll quit. I’m trying to sort that out. Do I want to just up and quit on a Monday? Should I do the responsible thing and put in my two weeks? Or should I wait for things to get real busy and tell him to fuck off? Such tough decisions. I need a Magic 8-ball.

 

        ”Morning Will.”

        I decided to be responsible, so I’m still at work. “Hi, Jen,” I reply.

        She has nothing to do with it.

        ”I had a really good time last night.”

        ”Yeah?”

        Actually she has everything to do with it.

        ”What are you doing for lunch,” she asks.

        ”Nada.”

        ”Wanna grab a bite?”

        She’s standing right outside my cubicle, and between the fact that she is hot and her tits are pretty much resting on the top of the cube wall, I’m finding it difficult to pay attention to what she’s saying.

        ”Who’s going,” I ask.

        ”I was thinking just you and I.”

        I hope she didn’t notice my pants move.

        ”Isn’t Wednesday girl’s day?”

        ”Yeah,” she says, biting her lip, “they’ll be fine without me.”

        I thought chicks only bit their lips on TV.

        ”Swing by my cube at noon, kay?” She offers me a smile, which I think is genuine and turns to leave, then stops. ”Say, can you help me carry a few boxes to the storage room?”

         ”Now?”

         ”If you don’t mind,” she says.

         And because I don’t want to say, sure, just give me a second to let this boner die down, I say, “sure…just let me finish up what I’m doing here.”

         ”Meet me in like five minutes,” she says, flashing me a mischievous smile.

         ”Will,” my boss shouts.

         I should have seen this coming. I swivel around to face Dwayne’s office. “Yeah?”

         ”I got a project I need you to finish for me.”

         He saw us talking. Did he hear her ask me to lunch?

         ”I need it for my one o’clock.”

         Fucker.

         “When you’re finished helping Jen, come in here so I can appraise you on the deliverables.” He looks at my waist and then quickly looks up. We make eye contact and I smile. ”You’ll..ahh…you’ll have to skip lunch.”

         To fuck with him even more, I stand up and stretch with great exaggeration and make a pointed attempt to arch my back, which of course thrusts my boner forward- deeper into an indelible memory that I hope scars him forever.

        ”No worries, boss!” I say with a smile.

 

        After banging the shit out of Jen in the storage room, we went and enjoyed a nice lunch at Subway, where she picked at a turkey wrap and I took down a 12″ meatball sub.

        ”Weren’t you supposed to skip lunch?”         

        ”Yep.”

        ”Don’t ya think Dwayne will get mad?”

        ”Probably.”

        ”And you don’t care?”

        ”Not really.”

        ”Say, thanks again for helping me with those boxes.” She smiled. “I hate having to put stuff away back there. It’s such a mess.”

        I should mention that when I said “banging the shit out of Jen,” I mean to say I helped her put boxes away.

        ”No worries.” I smiled back. We were both doing the whole overly-polite thing. I hated when I did this. 

        ”You want to catch a movie tonight,” I asked.

        ”Sure,” she said. “Oh wait, I can’t. I forgot I’ve got this thing tonight.”

        Que insecurity. “Hot date?”

        ”Totally. And he’s super hot and super cool.”

        I knew she was too good for me. ”Oh, well maybe some other time then,” I said, putting on my most genuine, self-assured fake smile.

        ”You’re such a dork, Will,” she said, then started laughing.

        I smiled and nervously laughed at a joke I didn’t get.

        She grabbed my arm and did the whole innocent, hot-girl head tilt thing. “Of course I want to do something with you.”

        

       For the first time in weeks, I was happy I woke up. I blame Jen for that. And I blame her for what I did after lunch.

 

        When I got back to my cube Dwayne was sitting in my chair, going through my e-mails.

        ”Something you need Dwayne.”

        He spun around. “Where the hell have you been?”

        ”Lunch,” I said. “With Jen.”

        I hated dragging her into this, but I knew she’d appreciate helping me piss him off.

        ”I thought I told you you had to skip lunch.”

        ”Yeah well, I was hungry.”

        My candor was confusing the shit out of him.

        ”And what the fuck are you doing going through my e-mails?”

        He stood up and got in my face. “I want you. In my office. Now.”

        ”Your breath smells like ass, Dwayne.”

        ”What’d you say to me?”

        ”Ever hear of a toothbrush?”

        By this time heads were starting to peek up above their cube walls.

        ”Listen, you little shit,” he started to say.

        ”We’re the same size,” I interrupted. “Actually, I think I’m bigger.” I turned to Jen, who was now standing near Dwayne’s office. “Who’s taller? Me or Dwayne,” I said as I turned my back to him. “Here, turn around and let’s measure.”

        Now, Jen told me I hit my file cabinet with my face and then my shoulder, but I’m pretty sure it was all face. Then next thing I knew Dwayne was standing above me shaking and yelling uncontrollably.

        ”I told you no fucking lunch! You hear me asshole, no fucking lunch! No fucking lunch!” 

        ”Dwayne,” a voice shouted. We all turned as the VP of Operations came barreling into the room. He looked at Dwayne, then at me, then back to Dwayne.

        ”Ted,” he says to the person standing closest to me, “help him up.”

        ”Will, you okay,” he asked.

        I nodded.

        Then he looked at my boss. “Dwayne?”

        Dwayne didn’t do anything but kept on shaking.

        Jen was beside me, dabbing blood from my forehead with a Kleenex. All of us except Dwayne were watching the VP to see what he’d do. I figured I was pretty much fired.

        He looked at both of us, then at the crowd of people standing around my cube, then back to us. Then he cleared his throat and said, “You’re both fired.”

        I had just enough time to flash a huge grin at Dwayne before his fist came crashing into my face.