Day 15:Phone Calls, Weather, and "Z-Day?"

10/14/2010
The Good, The Bad and The Writing

The Good
1)    I has two phone conversations today totaling a little over four hours with one of my best friends.  It was nice.  And very unlike me.  I hate talking on the phone.  In fact, I talked on the phone more today than I did in my entire last billing cycle.  Last month I only used 189 minutes, and today I used over 240.  Hour crap Batman.  It was cool to catch up.  There are a couple of things that would have made it better.  We used to sit on opposite sides of a firepit in Vegas weekend nights (in the winter of course) with Jack and Dr. Peppers just shooting the shit for hours.  To be honest I'd say the conversations were 75% my buddy talking and 25% me talking and asking him questions to keep him talking.  That is one great thing about my buddy.  He is a talker.  I'm not at all.  I am a listener and interject when I see fit kinda guy.  It worked out perfectly.  And our wives would be in the house wondering what the hell it was we could possibly be talking about for so damn long.  I miss those days.  Thanks, for the reminder of those good times "Surprise! you know the rest".  I try to use no names here, so check out his blog if you care to.  I'm sure he wouldn't mind.  And even if he does, tough shit.  He's putting himself out on the web just like me for anyone (and I truly mean ANYONE) to see.  Cheers my friend.  Jack and root beer for me tomorrow night in your honor.
2)     The weather today was fan-freaking-tastic!  Nice and cool.  It feels like fall.  Yay, fall.  There is a nip (teehee, I said nip) in the air.  I love it.  The wheel of the year is turning and soon Halloween and then after that Xmas (or Yule for me).

The Bad
     I'll save my bitching for another night.


The Writing
     September 14, 2012

     I woke up today and thought it was going to be a Friday like any other.  I'd go into work, pretend to work most of the day and attempt to sneak out a half hour to an hour early and get a head start on drinking for the weekend.  Best laid plans and all, right?  I made it to work as planned.  I walked into the building at 7:58AM.  About 5 minutes earlier than usual.  That was going to be good for at least fifteen minutes early vacating at the end of the day.  Yep, it was going to be a great day.
     Hold the phone, my prick of a boss is out sick?  Can you say 3:30 escape time?  I knew I could.  And would, barring something major.
     Did I say something major? Yep. I did.  Lunch hour came and went.  I really enjoyed that 90 minutes.  Then there I was, quietly playing Sudoku on my phone when I heard, "Steven?" in a pained choked voice from through (or over if you like even though it seems like it came through) the cubicle wall.
     "Liz?  Are you alright?" I stood and peaked over the cube wall into my neighbor's "yard".  I always feel like Wilson from that TV show Home Improvement when I do that.  What I saw when I looked into her space was frightening.  Liz (short for Elizabeth) is a fairly dark skinned latina.  She is very pretty and to tell you the truth I would like to bang her.  But when I looked over the cube wall, she wasn't a chestnut brown, she was pale.  And pale on her looked very gray.
     She looked up at me and opened her mouth, "I think I got food poisoning, Ste..." and her head crashed down on her keyboard hard enough to dislodge the shift key and send it bouncing a couple inches away.
     "Holy shit, Liz!", I leaped out of my cube and ran around to her's.  I lifted her head from the keyboard and there was one thin cut above her right eye.  The odd thing was there was only one drop of blood dripping down, and it looked to have already begun congealing.  "Oh shit."  I lifted her arm and checked her wrist for a pulse.  It was weak but there.  Her breathing was ragged.  I was scared.  I guess that is how I was able to just act.  I lifted her out of her chair and carried her, one of her arms over my shoulder and my arms around her back and behind her knees.  I carried her out of the building and to my car.  I only stopped long enough to bark at the receptionist, "Call HR and tell them that I am taking Liz to the hospital and have them call her emergency contact."
     Well, Michelle listened well and didn't delay me with any asinine questions.  Which was probably best because the lack of information probably helped to put her relatives into a panic.  They live closer to the hospital than we work, so they were waiting for us in the ER when we got there.  Her mom was in a panic.  I can't blame her.  I got the orderlies to get her out of my car and told them all I knew, and that she thought it was food poisoning.  I waited around and answered all the same questions three or four times.  Once to the hospital staff, and then again each time another family member showed up.  We sat in the ER waiting room and did just that.  Waited.  As we sat there the seats all slowly began to fill.  A lot of individuals looking pale and a couple of them actually passing out just like Liz.  At this point I started to get scared and gave Liz' mom my business card with my cell phone # scribbled on the back.  I apologized that I couldn't stay, but that I was meeting a Client at 4pm.  "Please call me when you find out what is wrong.  I'm sure everything will be alright."  She thanked me for bringing her Lizzy in and hugged me.  Then I bugged the hell out of there.
     I went straight to PJ's Pub.  I walked through the door at 3:30pm according to the big red digital numbers above the bar.  I got my wish and got out of work early.  Not exactly how I wanted to accomplish it, but the "work gods" work in mysterious ways indeed.
     I looked around the gloomy bar and there was only one other patron sitting at the far end of the bar.  A woman of about forty five holding her bottle of Pabst Blue Ribbon in both hands and staring off into space behind the bar.  Ok, I wonder if she had been here since they opened at noon.  And if she had been drinking before she got here.  I guessed yes to both questions.
     Jessica the little hottie that worked behind the bar came out from the kitchen when she heard me come in.  She smiled at me, "How you doin' hun?"
     "I'm okay Jess.  How 'bout yourself?"
     "I'm fantastic.  Hoping it picks up in here for happy hour though.  This is a tad depressing.  What can I get for ya Sweetie?  The usual?"
     "Yep, make is a double to start off today, if you would please?  Rough day."  The usual for me is a Maker's on the rocks.
     She poured me a nice full tumbler of that golden nectar of the gods and sat down on the beer cooler that was right behind the bar in front of where I was sitting and proceeded to ask me why my day was so bad.  So I recounted afternoon, and she really seemed interested (and even called me sweet and awesome at different points in my telling).  The telling of that story turned into her telling me about her week since I had last been in there.  The next time I looked at the clock it read 5:43pm.  I had consumed three Maker's on the rocks (only one of them was the monster double).  I laid two twenties on the bar and bid her ado.  She didn't even look at the money.  She pooched out her bottom lip and came around the bar and gave me a big hug.
     "You drive careful, hero.  Come back tomorrow night and see me.  I work eight to close."
     "You know, I might just do that.  You be safe tonight beautiful."  And I walked out the door and to my car.
     I stopped at the liquor store on the way home and bought a bottle of Maker's, intending to have one more and then play on the computer, write my daily blog (which you are reading right now) and maybe watch a movie on Netflix.  As I write this, I have accomplished the drink (and a second), surfed the web a bit, the usual, Facebook, Twitter, Gmail, Yahoo! Mail, pornorama, and now I am writing.  I have completely wasted four hours sitting here now, and I am going to finish this sentence and then go to bed.


Me too.  Tune in tomorrow to find out how Steve's weekend goes.

Stay scared my friends,
My Little Demon
myltldmn@gmail.com