Office Navigation for the Modern Man

We all flowed down G______ Street like the turds we were. Pieces of human turd that would never live up to our potential. I was stuck in amongst a swarm of middle aged women who had given away the reward of raising children for a chance to have a “real job” like a man. There was no way these sisters were going to miss out on what men had been keeping from them all these years. Fuck child rearing. That would be done by someone for money. It wasn’t that expensive either. Something like a baby would never get between the sisterhood and their careers.

B_______ was such a piece of shit. It wasn’t even a whole shit. The place was like a broken off piece of shit that had been separated from the mother shit. Just sitting there. With its patches of eastern bloc-esque architecture it lacked any sort of character that you’d expect from somewhere that was supposed to be a capital city. The faces of those I passed on my slow walk to work matched those I had seen in old videos of the Soviet Union. There is a certain ugly retardedness that people from those communist countries had. The people of B_______ had that same look only in more modern clothing. Some had tried to do something with their hair, but it couldn’t change that underlying Second World face that most of them sported.

I got to work and felt suicidal. The security chick smiled at me as I flashed my ID. She was the size of a fourteen year old and would have had trouble stopping a toddler from busting through and into the lifts. Where did they get these people? Was this some sort of equal opportunity thing that had gone too far? Maybe I was wrong. I highly doubted it though. I got to my floor and went straight to my desk. I put my lunch in the fridge and noticed the same plastic container that had been there for two weeks was still rotting away next to everybody’s food. I picked up the container and threw it straight into the bin in the hopes that someone would come looking for it and want to fight me. I imagined some pussy soy guzzling piece of shit that was on twice the money that I was charging down into my desk area and saying, “Did you throw my lunch out?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I did. What are you going to do about it, pussy?” I would say. Then he would yell and carry on for a few minutes and then threaten to take me to Human Resources. I would then counter threaten him with a Work Health and Safety accusation and tell him that he had endangered the lives of others by leaving contaminated food in the fridge. We would then fight it out. I would land a twenty-five punch combo and he would try to slap at me. It would end in him crying on the ground. Women would approach me and congratulate me on my boxing skills and then offer to have sex with me. I went back to my desk with my instant coffee and a smile on my face from what had just taken place in my mind.

I stared at my computer screen and decided I was going to pretend to work. This was something that I didn’t usually like to do because it often takes more energy to pretend to work than it does to actually do work. My desk phone rang. It never rang so I was hesitant to pick it up. Anyone could be on the other end and the fact that I couldn’t see them made things worse. I picked it up. “Hello?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” said the voice on the other end.

“Who?”

“Me, come to my office, now.”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“It’s me, goddammit. Come to my office!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?!” I yelled down the phone. It turned out to be my boss, so I walked around to his office. He was older than me and fat. He had all sorts of shit placed around his office. Photos, plaques congratulating him on shit that no one was interested in. He had really invested a lot of himself getting to where he was. I imagined he was the kind of guy that wouldn’t be hard to push over the edge once you woke him up to the lie he was living. Thirty years service and a handshake and back to the office only to be tapped on the shoulder a couple of years later and told, “Oh, we are so sorry but we have to let you go.” Then he can’t find a job because he’s been doing essentially nothing for thirty years. Soon he becomes homeless and eventually he has to resort to sucking dicks just to feed himself. This doesn’t even get him a roof over his head. Just food plus cum. The initial taste is not to his liking but he’s got to eat and this is the only way he can do it. All the soup kitchens have kicked him out because he eats too much. Now he associates hunger with cock, so everytime he feels hungry an uncontrollable urge to suck on a dick hits him like the passenger train that he watches every morning and thinks about jumping out in front of just to end it all. My mind snapped back into place again. He had been talking for quite some time. I had missed all of it and really didn’t give enough of a shit to ask him to repeat himself. Next we were both standing there in silence, looking at each other. This was the part where I was supposed to talk. I took a stab in the dark and said, “Ok then, I’ll get right on to it.”

“Excellent,” he said.

“Any sort of deadline?” I said.

“Next month will be fine,” he said and that was that. He would never get what he asked of me. Mainly because I didn’t know what that was, but also because nobody ever got anything they asked for in that place. It was an endless cycle of pointless tasks created by pointless people that were more boring than watching paint dry. I left his office and walked past two women who were discussing work with a gusto that made me wonder whether they had lost their minds. The enthusiasm with which they talked about “the project”, whatever the fuck that was, was so intense that I was willing to bet that neither of these women had seen a dick in years. That’s what happens to these women. They get to a point in their lives when dick doesn’t come to them so readily. Instead of admitting defeat they make themselves believe that they no longer need dick. This creates some of the most boring motherfuckers you’ll ever encounter. Imagine sitting across from these retards on a date. “Oh yes, I really love this project. It’s just such a fascinating thing to work on,” they would say. You would have to stick toothpicks in your eyes to keep yourself awake.

I had been back at my desk a while and on my third cup of instant coffee. People wasted too much time in their coffee snubbery. I found the whole concept fucking retarded and gay. My desk phone rang again but this time I didn’t pick it up. I pushed the volume button down until the phone no longer made any sound. I was now able to just ignore the flashing light that would come up everytime someone was on the other end. I didn’t like not knowing who was on the other end. Even though techonology had brought us a long way and we could now see the number that was dialling us, it still left too many gaps for me. A number was not a person and I still was not happy with the level of identification presented by these phones we were forced to use. Ideally, the other person’s face would be displayed on the phone’s screen. Something like a mugshot would do. If you didn’t like the look of the person then you just didn’t answer and if you really thought this person would not be able to add anything to your life then you could just block him or her.

Time was moving in slow motion. Every minute seemed like an hour and every hour like a month. I had to get out of the office and get some air. I grabbed a couple of books I had put in my bag that morning before commencing the great journey to this anal wart of a city. I told those around me I was going for an early lunch and got some really weird looks. They didn’t say anything, they just looked at me the way people look at a comedian when they’re waiting for the punch line. I was no comedian though and it was only 9:30.

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