In an hour and a half, I’m supposed to be meeting with agent Black. I don’t want to meet with Agent Black. I want to go home, eat dinner, pretend to listen to everyone speak to me, watch my shows, check my groups and chat. Well, chat with people that I want to chat with.
Maybe, I’ll leave work and leave town. Go somewhere that they can’t find me? We have a cabin about four hours away from here. I could stop, get some gas and keep on driving. Since I’m the only one that works at home, it’s technically all mine.
I know this would be the wrong thing to do. But, at this moment in time, I kind of don’t give a shit. This is the only time I’ve ever been afraid of another grown man. To be honest, it’s not the fact that he’s another man. It’s the fact that he has his initials. Not J.B. for James Black. It’s the F.B.I. letters all together that I’m afraid of.
As I left my office, Cheryl walked up to me asking me where I was going?
I said, “Home. It’s Friday and I am going home to be with my family Cheryl.”
I swear she smirked at me.
Cheryl said, “Oh. I was just asking. Seeing as that it’s not 5 o’clock yet.”
I said, with my own smirk, “Cheryl, I’m a husband and a father. Sometimes, I like to go home and see my wife and children before 5 o’clock. My wife, something that you aren’t, a wife that is, likes to see her husband, something that you don’t have, a husband that is, sooner than 5 o’clock.”
“Wow”, said Cheryl.
“Yes. Wow”, I said. Her lack of social skills and knowledge of big words is maddening.
As I said goodbye to everyone, whom I’ll let you know were also packing up to head out early, I looked walked by Cheryl’s desk. I mostly certainly heard her say, “Asshole.”
I walked back to Cheryl’s desk, smiled, leaned in as close as I could, without appearing to look aggressive and whispered, “Bye Bitch.”
She looked scared.
That made me happy. And that’s how I like to end a work day. Happy.