John has managed to upset me above and beyond what I thought was possible. Had I not been so busy developing new marketing strategies for the company, I’d have already handed my frustrated resignation. Kidding. I so don’t care about my job but like every pathetic human being not lucky enough to have won the lottery or be the sole beneficiary of a multi-million dollar trust fund, I need something to pay my bills. And since drug dealing has never been my forte…
The job is one thing I don’t give a flying banana about, but I do care about John. What did he mean with the whole girlfriend is pregnant business? I thought he didn’t have a girlfriend. This lying son of a bitch was just pretending to be interested in me. Not that it matters. Does it matter? Well I must admit, I like the guy. He’s cute. And smart. And funny. And I am the biggest thirty-year-old moron on this planet.
Enough shenanigans. I always keep a bottle of scotch in the bottom left drawer of my desk for emergencies. This is an emergency. I always wanted to try being drunk at work. Time for a first.
I grab the bottle and unscrew the cork. Sixteen-year-old single malt, smells like the sweetest thing in the world. No, I’m not an alcoholic. I just learned to appreciate life at an early age. Very early – oh crap give me a break already. I take a nice long swig. Perfect remedy especially on an empty stomach. The alcohol warms my throat and my mouth is on fire. Whoo! This is what I’m talking about. The familiar dizziness doesn’t take long to settle inside my brain, wiping my thoughts almost immediately. My heartbreak over John seems a distant memory now. I feel happy and calm. I take another swig. A few glutinous gulps until the taste overwhelms my senses and I must put the bottle down.
Ah. Satisfied, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. No way I’m gonna be productive for the rest of the day. Like I really give a damn at this point. Too tipsy to stand, I sit on my chair and recline it all the way. The ceiling is spinning. I close my eyes and draw a deep breath. It’s so quiet. Too quiet. I need music. Browsing through my Internet radio playlist, I look for an upbeat song. Do I want techno? Or plain metal?
In the end I pick Kim by Eminem. Yeah, well, I have some anger issues to deal with too sometimes. There’s nothing like Eminem when he used to rap high on prescription meds. I love the guy. Fine he’s maybe a douche, but he’s a talented douche. Many of them are I realize. Sigh. John is a talentless assmunch. Why am I still thinking about him? Ah yes, because he “dumped” me for his imaginary girlfriend. Imaginary pregnant girlfriend.
I need more Scotch. I smile at the thought my mom told me I’d die in ten years if I keep drinking like that. I don’t drink like that all the time mom! And like she scolds me but she ain’t so saint either.
Shiiiiit I feel good. Scotch has always been my friend. My only friend. I let my head drop on my desk as I hug the bottle. Fuck John and whoever else he’s fucking too. I don’t need him to celebrate my birthday. I can throw a pretty decent party all by myself.
Argh Eminem is getting on my nerves!! I need something more eerie like Nightwish. Never been into Nightwish until now. Why am I in such an awful mood – like I could really hope to ever date John someday. That stuff happens only in stupid chick flicks. I’m better than that. Smarter. I made enough bad experiences to repeat the same mistakes. John is not the answer to my problems. He’s another piece of meat I’d like to shag because I’m desperately lonely.
Crap. Am I really gonna have to browse through a few victims on Plenty of Fish? I’ve never done that either. I usually always managed to find sex toys in bars. Not even good toys. They barely did the job.
Shit. I pound my fist on the top of the desk. I was supposed to stop the bootie call business. I’m too old for this crap. Where are the nice guys? Right. Taken. By bitches most of the time.
I grab the bottle and start a staring contest with the label. I’m gonna defeat you stupid mood. Drunk or sober, John and his lies won’t ruin my birthday. A few more gulps down and I’ve accomplished my mission. Oh yeah.
My mind in a fog I suddenly hear the phone. Beautiful. I’m perfectly able to speak to whoever is calling – can’t read the caller ID on the screen though. M-A-R-Y? Oh right. From customer relations.
“Mary, what’s up? I’m really busy so please make it brief.” Being drunk makes me bossy. No big deal. I’m pretty sure Mary won’t notice. I’m awesome at keeping my bitchy attitude wasted. A skill I developed over the years. Takes a while to adjust and like any good training must be maintained with a lot of discipline.
“Kiki, I’m looking for the latest report you sent me but can’t seem to find it. Would you mind re forwarding it to me?”
Um now I have to look for a bloody report. Beautiful way to screw my buzz, Mary.
“Sure.” Yeah I know exactly how I’m gonna handle this one.
As soon as I hang up the phone, I let out a big yawn. The clock indicates 2:20 pm. Too soon for a nap? After I take care of this stupid request, I’ll nap. Dialing a number on the phone, I wait for the lucky chosen to pick up.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hello Ishmael, how are you?” I ask with the most suave tone of voice, like honey is pouring from my lips into the phone, and makes everything sounds so sweet the guy is feeling in heaven right now – basically picture me giving him the best blowjob he ever got in his life. I don’t even grant him the time to respond. “I need your help. Very important task. Are you readily available? Would you get in touch with Mary, she wants the latest report I compiled. Thanks Ishmael. I really appreciate it.”
“Um sure. What format would you…”
“I really don’t give a damn. It’s for Mary. Ask her. Thanks again.”
John is maybe my favorite minion, but he’s not the only one who deserves my undivided attention.
I burst in laughter. This is the most amazing day of my life.
Just wait until John shows back up in my office to tell me his troubles. I’m gonna show him who has to deal with fake pregnant bullshit then.
To be continued…