January 25, 2008

Fiction for a Friday

Any similarity to actual events purely accidental...
I got to the meeting, uncharacteristically, a minute early in order to reserve the high ground, like the 20th Maine at Little Round Top.

Not all spaces in Steve's office were equal after all but I knew the topography. A bigwig had been invited and I liked to have my comfort seat, which is like comfort food but with fewer calories. It's the spot where my concession to ease was least glaring, that is my Asics running shoes which I’d begun wearing after noting similar footwear on a co-worker (since fired). It unnerved me that he’d been fired but not quite enough to return to shoes requiring a shine. I was reasonably sure it was a coincidence.

I courtesy-tapped the door upon entering and asked how his home improvements were going. Steve had the unusual but endearing tic of squinting and tilting his head as he talked. It put introverts at ease for the lack of real eye contact while pleasing extroverts for the animation and novelty.

I let my weight fall heavily into the chair, the one next to the Las Vegas sign and collection of stuffed animals. My boss was that rare combination of heavy gambler and lover of pugs and wasn’t afraid to show it. In high school everyone was a stereotype, easily grouped and nicely categorized, and it was a celestial joke that I was to spend the rest of my life learning otherwise.

I liked his office. There was a lot of stuff to look at and if you were still bored his windows overlooked a city street. My coffee cup was felt warm in my hand and I gripped it like the stick shift of a sports car. I liked that at any given moment during the meeting I could shift gears simply by taking a long swig. I brought a pen and paper ostensibly for note-taking purposes though primarily for doodling; I‘d alternate drawing trees and females because only God could make either and it was my rule to only draw what only God could make...

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