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Author's Chapter Notes:

Thanks to Morning Angel for the beta (I hope it's a little less depressing now).

Disclaimer: Not mine

 

1.

 

The bartender greets Meredith by name and takes her order. It's appletinis tonight, although she doesn't really care for the mix they use; it's too sweet and the combined sugar of more than five usually gives her a rotten hangover. Jake's on a trip to Florida with his dad, though, so she indulges in her favorite drink. They remind her of carefree theater days in New York before she got pregnant, and for a few hours she can pretend a promising acting career is still on the horizon.

 

Sometime after the fourth martini, she strikes up a conversation with a guy two stools down, half dancing to an Al Green song, expertly balancing her glass. It turns out he's new in town, a reporter at the Times-Tribune. Dan Something has had a few highballs himself and tells her that she's very pretty. She knows that if he were sober, he would probably think differently, but Meredith takes the good feelings where she can get them.

 

She wishes she could say it was the first time (or even the third) that she's gone home drunk with a stranger.

 

 

2.

 

Michael has announced that the office is going to be part of a reality show next month and all the staff goes out to celebrate. Phyllis convinces Tom from accounting to come with them, no easy task. He's been depressed lately, and she feels bad, wants to help cheer him up. They laugh over too many gin and tonics, away from the rest of the group. Tom's sweet, even if he is a bit strange, and she ends up accepting a nervous invitation back to his place at the end of the night. She hasn't been that kind of girl since high school, but what the heck?

 

She tries not to take it too personally when he kills himself two days later.

 

 

3. 

 

Angela is almost shaking with rage as she drives four inebriated coworkers to Poor Richard's. The Christmas party has been a totally disaster. Tiny, dull lights, unauthorized present exchanges and Kelly...Kelly...the thought can't even be finished without jeopardizing the well-being of everyone in the car. She shudders and grips the steering wheel more tightly. However, road safety is more important than personal vendettas, so Angela focuses carefully on the route, delivers her charges safely to the parking lot of South Side Bowl and sits in her car until everyone has gone inside, trying to calm her nerves. She wants nothing more than to go home to her cats and a good book. The Good Book.

 

Instead, she reluctantly joins the others in the bar, suffering in silence. Someone has to keep an eye on Kelly, who will soon be rivaling Pam for the "Most Inappropriate Workplace Behavior" award at next year's Dundies. Todd Packer tries to buy her a drink, offering Tequila Sunrises and something else so depraved that her stomach churns. She slaps his hand away from her bottom with a frown. "I don't drink."

 

Angela relocates to a safer table, choking on the smell of chicken wings and stale beer. Her sweater will definitely need to be dry cleaned.

 

 

4.

 

Kelly runs into Oscar and Gil on a Friday night while she's waiting for Ryan. She would have thought they would go to some place way classier, because of course gay men know where all the happening spots are. She orders a daiquiri and heads for their table.

 

"Hey, guys! I thought you left for Europe already. Oh my god, it's going to be so romantic!" She slides into their booth and Oscar moves over to make room. He's such a gentleman; more straight guys should be like that. Ryan never even holds the door for her. Gil glances sideways at Oscar and they're totally communicating without words, she can just tell. One day she'll be able to do that with Ryan; he'll give her one of his adorable squinty looks and she'll just know exactly what it means. It's going to be perfect.

 

They order the Rhode Island clam special and Oscar tells her about all the cities they're going to visit and she starts to picture what it would be like to honeymoon in Cannes. They'd go during the film festival so she could see Penelope Cruz and maybe run into Leo at Gucci or Cartier.

 

When Ryan finally shows up, Kelly quickly re-applies her lipstick and gets to her feet, swaying slightly in her purple stilettos, the ones Ryan always makes her wear even after she's taken off the rest of her clothes. "This was so much fun. We should totally do it again when you get back. We'll have a girls' night out and talk about all the Academy Award nominations and it'll be just like Will & Grace. Except I look way better in white than Debra Messing."

 

She meets Ryan by the door and tows him towards an empty table in the back. "I just heard about this amaaa-zing hotel in Monaco. We have to go there some day! I'll be like Grace Kelly, only with cuter shoes."

 

 

5.

 

Karen watches them together, a sucker for punishment. They're careful in front of her, trying to avoid hurt feelings (too late for that), but she can pick up all the little signs. Jim leans closer than a friend would and Pam's smile is anything but platonic. Karen rests her elbows on the edge of the bar and does her best to emit an aura of not caring.

 

Andy circles like a shark smelling blood in the water, having somehow figured out what's on her mind. He pushes a drink her way and proceeds to invade her personal space with alarming stealth. "I knew he wasn't good enough for you. Tuna is an idiot." It's weird how that actually makes her feel a little better. She gulps down what he buys her and after the third Long Island Iced tea, she thinks that maybe it would be nice to kiss someone who really appreciates her. Andy wouldn't leave her for another woman. He probably couldn't find another woman, but that's beside the point.  And it's not like she hasn't made out with him before. There's a reason she doesn't drink Jaegermeister.

 

Andy takes her free hand, the one that isn't holding a glass. "Karen, you are the most awesome woman I've ever met. You're my Diane. You just don't know it yet."

 

She must be pretty drunk, because she doesn't bother to ask him what the hell that even means.

 

 

 



Paper Jam is the author of 24 other stories.
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