The Mean Blue People

Chapter one: Vertigo…kind of

            It happened on Tuesday, which really burned my tuna because I was at work. I always miss all of the good catastrophes! I swear, on of these days I’m going to march into my boss’ office, slap him in the face with a rubber chicken and quit. I’m tired of it! The flood of ’95? Yeah, I missed it! The tornado of ’98? Missed that too! And you better believe no one told me about the town fire last year! If someone doesn’t’ start planning these things better (you know who you are) I just might have to go hostel…but…I have strayed off subject…it happened on Tuesday.

*****

            I was in the bathroom fixing my comb over when in came John, as hot headed and stuck up as ever. As the door flung open I tried to act casual and pull off the old ‘I-wasn’t-fixing-my-comb-over’ trick. Completely buying it like the oaf he is John said, “Can you believe it Bob? 3,600 of those little buggers!”

            Not wanting to seem out of the loop, I played along, “I know! It’s like Vertigo all over again!”

            We both stood in silence and I inched towards the door. “What the hell are you talking about Bob? You do know about the alien invasion right? It’s all over the water cooler space.”

            I drink coffee. “SON OF A B****!” I yelled and kicked the trash can, spilling the contents of, not only it, but the shattered remains of my hope that I might once see a catastrophe unfold first hand. I stormed out of the urine smelling piss hole and, before the door could close completely behind me, turned to ask John one final question. “Do you know where I could buy a rubber chicken?”

            John shook his head no as he stood at the urinal doing his business. Once again I stormed out, leaving the trash and my hope on the floor, and made my way to my cubicle to dump out my coffee and fetch some thirst quenching gossip water.

*****

            Don’t get me wrong, I hate my coworkers, but this scoop seemed too good to pass up. I could hear muttering as I approached the happy faced clowns that I am forced to co-exist with for eight hours almost everyday. They were all huddled around the water cooler, no doubt discussing the information I very much wanted to have. As I drew closer the mutterings turned to whispers and when I joined the tight knit group the chattering had stopped completely.

            Looking around the semi-circle the muddleheaded employees made, I plotted how I could easily take them all out. For a good minute and a half no one said anything until the water in the cooler bubbled, cueing Tracy, a marketing rep who got her job like most people do who work at Hooters, to speak up. “I thought you drank coffee Bob?”

            Bending down to grab a paper cup out of the dispensing tube I retorted. “I like to keep my options open. You know, always trying new things.”

            “When you gonna try a new hair cut?”

Herb was prick. He took every chance he got to make fun of my hair, or lack there of. So, naturally, I took every chance I got to poke fun at his wife’s cancer. “I’ll change my hair when your wife gets out of remission.”

As I stood there, cup full of ice cold water and head full of colder cancer jokes, no one said a thing. After a few more minutes of awkward silence, I shook my head, said, “well…I’ll see you guys later,” and left.

The second my back was turned the chatter started up again and, I could never be sure, but I think it was Tracy who hit me in the head with her conical cup as I walked back to my cubicle, mouth sour with the taste of a plan gone wrong. And their horrible water.

End of Chapter one