Another hour, another script. I’m pumping them out now. I’m only slightly ahead of the game. If something were to happen, say, irresistable cravings for salami, or inexplicable bowel issues, I might have about 15 minutes to take a break before everything falls apart.
You never know.
In any case, the script is after the “read more” link. Be sure to check out the Blogathon info in the top right corner of the page, which is why I’m doing all of this madness.
I spent lunch at a small sandwich place chatting with my best bud, Bob.
I hoped to guilt him into breaking our unspoken rule about becoming roommates,
at least for the duration of this pay change.
He listened intently to my fire alarm story, about Tanya the blubbering intern,
and finally the paycut.
But when I suggested that he move in to share some of the rent, he resisted.
“No way, good buddy. Us living together would be like, you know, the end of
a good thing.
You don’t mess with friendships like ours.”
sigh Yeah, I knew it to be true. Still, I wasn’t convinced the classified
ad was oging to pan out.
Bob felt otherwise.
“Nah, by the time you get back to the office, you’ll have 50 applicants
waiting to pull up a squat at your place. Just you wait.”
The idea of anyone “squatting” on my place didn’t sound at all appealing.
“Just make sure you screen everyone before you let anyone move in.”
Yeah, ok. I mean, I intended to. You can’t just have any old person off the
street move into the place where you sleep. There are crazies out there.
“Not just the crazies,” Bob got conspiratorial.
If Bob didn’t get conspiratorial at least once in our conversations, it was a
sign of the end of days.
“Ya gotta look out for the really normal ones too. You know, the kind that
your mom would want living with you.
I mean, you wouldn’t want momma’s boy around when you’re trying to score with
the ladies.”
Hmm. Maybe he had something there.
“A sure sign to look out for is someone who moves his clothes in a suitcase.
Those are the worst. You will rue the day. Ruuuueee the daaaaayyy!”
Bob took the remaining half of my sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth, then
glided out of the restaurant with his arms out straight like wings.
Maybe it’s better he didn’t take me up on that roommate offer.
Still, I had to find someone who could laugh off smoke alarms at 4 in
the morning.
Just then my cell phone rang. It was Tanya. How did she get my cell number?
I just let my phone take a message.
I drank the rest of my cola, and then I dialled the answering system.
“Sorry to call you at lunch Mr. Collins, but there were some messages for you
on the fax machine here at the office and some of girls were hoping you would
be around to collect them because they’re really starting to stack up and I
told them I would take care of it but now they’re piled all over your desk and
there’s still more coming in so if you could just come back to the office and
maybe do something about all fo this then maybe I could stop standing by the
fax and maybe get some lunch, ok. Hello? Mr. Collins? Mr. Collins?”
Great. What now?
