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Story Notes:

Retro fic… I finally got around to finishing a post-Diwali story I had started many moons ago.  I don't own any of these characters.  I've just decided to play with them for a while.  They're like the grown up version of Barbie dolls.

 

“These feelings won't go away
They've been knockin' me sideways
I keep thinking in a moment that
Time will take them away
But these feelings won't go away.”

Sideways, Citizen Cope

 

To say that the first hour of his day is rough would be an understatement.  He wakes up at 8:31, which means he has to be sitting in his office chair in 29 minutes.  Seeing the shape he is in, he knows that hoping to make it on time is futile.  He can’t find his bicycle - it must have stayed behind at the office the night before - but it doesn’t matter since there’s no way in hell he’s expending any energy pedaling to the office when his head feels like a bowling ball.  A bowling ball that has a slight throbbing quality to it.  He now remembers why he had put a stop to drinking too much on weeknights.  The next day always feels like it stretches on for 48 hours.

He hops in the shower for all of 30 seconds, soaping up as a mere formality. He grabs the first shirt and tie he sees in his closet, and goes about searching for his keys and his cell phone.  After five minutes, he is able to locate his keys on the coffee table- how they landed there the night before, he has no clue- but his cell phone is nowhere to be found.  Hopefully, it hasn’t vanished since it would make it the second phone he has lost in three months and isn’t looking forward to buying yet another one.

_________________

9:18.  He makes it to the office in good time.  He drops a paper bag on his desk, removes his jacket, and places it on the back of his chair along with his shoulder bag.  He opens the brown paper bag.  Egg McMuffin, hash brown, and coffee: the breakfast of hungover champions.

“I’m surprised you didn’t call in sick.  In fact, I’m surprised you’re walking upright," says a voice right behind him.

“It was tempting to stay in bed all day, even more than usual, which is saying a lot considering I sell paper for a living.  You drove me home last night, didn’t you?”

“I did.  It was an interesting ride…”

“Please tell me I wasn’t sick in your car.”

“Nothing like that.  You’re just…an entertaining drunk.  I was treated to the greatest hits of the 90s.  Apparently, Lovefool was only the tip of the iceberg.  You knew Ice Ice Baby, Runaway Train, What’s Up, and when we got to your place, you’d gotten to I’m Too Sexy.  I think you missed your calling as a karaoke superstar,” says Karen, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.

Jim bows his head, staring glassy-eyed at the breakfast food on his desk. “I didn’t get to 80s hair bands?  You really missed out.  That’s my most exclusive act.”

Jim starts feeling a little self-conscious to have let a cute colleague see him act like such an idiot.  At least, drunk Jim had fun, which happens only too rarely these days.  The last time tipsy Jim had enjoyed a drink or two was on a casino night in the warehouse so many months ago, and he would rather not think about that.

“Thanks for getting me home safe.  Do you happen to know where I left my bike?  It doesn’t seem to be in here…”

“I think you left it against the building…” The ringing from her desk interrupts her thought. “Somewhere near the parking.  Sorry, I have to get that.”

Ugh.  This means he actually has to expend energy to retrieve his bicycle.  He was hoping not to move all day.  Might as well go about it like the removal of a band aid; in one quick shot.  He can spend the rest of the day in his chair staring at his computer screen.  His job is usually pretty accommodating of his behaving like a motionless drone.  

He hoists himself out of his chair to the rhythmic tapping of Karen’s pen as she chatters away on the phone.  This is going to be a long day.

_____________________

The cool October wind whips Jim’s face as he exits the building.  This seems to wake him up further, and somehow freezes the headache that has been gnawing at him since he woke up. 

He walks around the building to find his bicycle leaning against the far wall in the parking lot.  He picks it up, walks it to his car, and realizes that he has taken his bicycle rack that he usually stores in his trunk out the previous weekend in prevision of a trip to IKEA.  He is in no mood to attempt to fit his bike with its stupid basket in his trunk.  It usually takes a fair amount of jiggling, of back seats being pulled down, and a lot of patience, which is just not in the cards today.  He sighs and decides to take the bike with him inside the building.  He will deal with this…another day.

As he walks towards the entrance, he notices a glittery reflection next to the bushes.  His cell phone!  He bends down to pick it up, dusts the bits of dirt and leaves that have accumulated on it, and opens it.  It comes to life.  At least, the fall hasn’t damaged it.  He sees a blinking light indicating he has two text messages.  The first is from his friend Mike asking if he wants to go out tonight for drinks and a couple of games of pool.  He replies, “Gotta pass. Hungover.” 

The second text is most unexpected.  It’s from Pam, who he has not heard from in almost six months.  The message is impersonal at best and cryptic at worst.  “You owe me 20$.  Cough up ASAP!”  He shuts his phone, and slips it in his pants’ pocket.  He will deal with this… another day.

Chapter End Notes:
To be continued very soon.  This should end up being a three-parter.

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