Over My Dead Body. (592 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 1 review (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Azriel (View user info) at 2004-09-24 11:44:09 EDT
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God I hate to see her crying like this. Where am I? When am I? One thing I know is that I hate my fucking job. Just tonight, I was coming back home from a little after hours with my best friend from work when the details started to make my head spin. No reason for celebration really. What better remedy to remembrance then a good liter of honey brown beer? It had all started this morning...
It had been a very trying day. The company wasn't going too well nowadays and I was under pressure from upper management to produce results. For upper management, better results had nothing to do with fulfillment or enjoyment. Hence my headache;
Anthony: "Hey Frank"
Me: "Oh, hi Anthony. Please, come. Sit, sit"
Anthony is my best friend, the kind of guy who would give his soul if you were in dire need. We grew up together putting flaming shitty bags in front of old Macintosh's porch. The old bastard, he never picked up on the prank. He would always come out of his house reeking from an overdose of his smelly cigars, yelling the devil's name and stepping vigorously on the bag while we were laughing our asses off. I always had doubts he was a little bit senile.
Me: "How are you today man?"
Ant: "Not too bad, Corey and I went to see the doctor last night. The pregnancy is going well. Everything is normal".
Anthony had asked me last week to be god father to his child. For Italians, the bond between god father and nephew is really important. The god father is like the second father. Of course, I had said yes.
Me: "Good, good, I'm glad to hear it. Ant, I have something to tell you. Believe me, it's breaking my heart, but I have to do it. Upper management..." Just at the thought of this, I couldn't do anything but burry my face in my hands, sobbing softly.
Anthony: "I had seen it coming bro. I'm just not cut for this job. Selling... I'm more of an administrative clerk. I've never had it with people. You know it."
Me: "I am so sorry. Your wife's waiting to give birth and I'm firing you. What an ungrateful god father I am."
Anthony: "Yeah I know. It sucks. But don't take it this hard. To make it up to me, let's go out tonight and pay me a beer, I'll call Corey and tell her I'm coming in late. By the way, how are Julie and the kids?"
Me: "They're fine. Ok for the beer. I need one anyway. I fucking hate this job"
At around 7PM, 2 hours after getting at Sharky's, we were already drunk. Anthony had gone through a litany of resounding rants about how the earth is not revolving as it should;
Anthony: "What the fuck were they thinking, invading this country? Now, they are chopping some poor fuckers' heads off, one after the other. And for what purpose? To free their country. They are acting like fucking savages because they think they are God bringing righteous death to the infidels. And this, in front of a fucking camera. What a fucking nice God they have. I even heard from some people around here: "But they are desperate". FUCK YOU! You might be desperate but it's no reason to kill an innocent and rob him from his wife and kids."
And with that, he started to cry.
Anthony: "I'm a failure. Corey's so beautiful. I love her so much, yet, I'm unable to keep my fucking job and feed my wife and child. What a fucking failure I am."
What was I to do? My best friend, crying his heart out because I pushed him down a precipice.
Me: "Anthony, I think it's time to go home. I'll drop you off."
After dropping him off to his place, I headed back home to Julie. The warmth of her arms appeared so soothing that at this point, I could only think of her. When we were younger, I used to have panic attacks because I was scared of dying of some weird disease. The only way for me to calm down was if she would hold me in her arms, hands coursing through my hair and whispering that everything was going to be alright. And this was just what I needed now.
This is when my thoughts started to become fuzzy. Where was I? When was I? I started yelling; "Please honey, stop crying. It's not that bad. I'll find him another job. If necessary, I will buy their food, pay the rent. Whatever is necessary, I will do. I've always been there for them. You know that! What are the kids doing up at this time of night? They have school tomorrow baby. Please, look at me when I am talking to you. Anthony, what are you doing here? WHERE THE FUCK AM I?"
Anthony: "Kids, come with me, I'm paying the sugar pie"
But my lamentations remained unanswered, for I was hovering over my dead body.
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Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-01-16 12:17:27 EST (#)
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