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Suburban Dreaming
This is Morning Pt. 1
03/06/09 at 12:36 PM by HammersNStrings
Meetings at work are never a barrel of laughs, but more like a barrel of monkeys. The same people, arranged in a too-small room with not enough chairs, listening to lectures on how the policy’s been updated (the wording’s been changed), watching the dreaded videos (causing cheese shortages around the world), or playing games to really drive the training home (public humiliation in front of co-workers). It happens once a month, and it’s required. I got there early, hoping to actually get a seat this time. One other person had made the same decision.

I’d never seen him before, but as he turned to greet me, flashes of us rolling around in the back seat of a nice car stormed my subconscious, warming my cheeks and turning them a tell-tale shade of rosy pink. He smiled. “Hi, I’m Matt. I’m new here,” he said, sticking out his hand for a quick shake. I gripped his hand firm-but-not-too-firmly, and shook twice, memorizing the important details, like how his fingers were half an inch longer than mine and his nails were clean and trimmed, not chewed.

“I’m Kelsey, but I’m not so new. Where are you working?”

We chit-chatted, swapping all of the important details, and I was thrilled to find out he’d be working in the other side of the duplex that I work in, so we’d see each other fairly often. He asked me about my shirt, an old band tee, and we found out we like the same music. We talked about the Appleseed Cast, and he bragged that he was going to see Four Year Strong next week. I told him I might see him there, but that I was going mostly for Thursday.

People began to show up about ten minutes later, but I barely noticed the seats filling around us. I noticed his jeans fit just right, not too tight like faggy hipster boys. He was trying, but not too hard. His hair was just messy enough, and his ear plugs weren’t overstated. He had a tattoo peeking from under the sleeve of his black tee-shirt, but I couldn’t make out what it was, my mind being too preoccupied with thoughts of fucking this guy senseless.

When the meeting itself started, we listened to the higher-ups talk about safety in the workplace. We were picked for the same team in a Family Feud-style knockoff trivia game, and his witty responses and sarcastic comments under his breath were hilarious and intriguing at the same time. Could it be, here at my shit job, someone else with mild intelligence had been hired? Someone with good taste in music? Someone who actually gave a shit?

“What are you doing after this?” he whispered as the game finished up.

“Going home to sleep for a few more hours,” I replied, nervously picking at a thread hanging off the hem of my shirt.

“You should come to Panera with me and get some breakfast,” he said. “You can tell me more about the house I’m going to be working in.”

“That’s what your training’s for, silly,” I said, looking up at him through my lashes. He pushed me lightly, smiling.

“You can’t say no to the new kid. What if I get a complex?” I let out an exaggerated groan.

“Fiiiine,” I whined. We clocked out and made arrangements to meet in half an hour. I checked my phone as I walked to my car, noticing the text alert going off. It was from King Asshat. ‘Oh boy,’ I thought. ‘Life’s about to get interesting…’
Tags: sometimes help comes along when you least expect it
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Last Updated: 06/22/09 (10,827 Views)
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