Jim went in to work early on Friday, hoping to be in the Office before anyone else. This week's inability to focus had put him severely behind in paperwork, and he was hoping he'd be able to concentrate enough to finish it without the distraction of Pam or Karen. But, when he arrived, Pam was already there, dancing back and forth to the filing cabinet to a peppy Celtic-tinged song chirping from her computer speakers.
"Morning Jim!" Pam chirped a little too enthusiastically. She studiously avoided eye contact as she continued to bounce on the balls of her feet. God. They were alone together for the first time since the art show, and her carefully cultivated air of calm patience was fragile enough in a room full of coworkers...."I should have known better than to take a Thursday off. There is, like, a mountain of stuff to file and all the expense reports to copy, fax, and file, and then I need to redo the supply orders, which is stupid because we SELL office supplies, right? So why do I need to requisition petty cash for Post its....."
"Sounds like a high-pressure job, there, Pam. I don't know how you hold up." The wry, smirking voice came from the entry. Karen stood there, her hair already styled in a sleek updo for the party, and two large drycleaning bags were held in her left hand. She smiled slightly at Pam's obviously wounded look, and then glided over to Jim's desk. "I'm so glad you are here early, Halpert. We should get all the real work done before we leave today, but we should leave early in order to arrive at the best possible time. I knew you'd forget your good suit, so I picked it up, along with my new dress...." She held one of the garments up to herself and posed saucily. "Like it? I think it's professional enough, but still hot." She winked at Jim lasciviously, but when she turned to gauge Pam's reaction, the receptionist had turned back to the file cabinet, and was singing softly to herself along with the music. Karen shrugged, and, realixing she didn't have an audience, marched off to the annex without another look at Jim.
Jim opened his mouth to say something -- anything -- but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he tilted his head to one side and listened to Pam's off-key voice, defiantly merry in the face of the nastiness.
She said, "My work is like eating cold oatmeal...
Day after Day after Day after Day."
She said, "My work is like eating cold oatmeal,
Day after Day." And, she's right!
Jim smiled and strolled over to the fax machine, where he wordlessly started to staple Pam's large stack of collated documents. He made it a special point to sing along to the next verse, even secretly hoping that Karen might hear.
Drunk on Margaritas and full of food,
She said, "It's hard to be with one when you're in love with another."
Drunk on Margaritas and full of food,
She said, "It's hard to be with one when you're in love with another."
Pam looked up at him with thoughtful and smiling eyes. "Thanks for the help." She took the pile of stapled papers and walked back over to the file cabinets, turning to say over one shoulder, "I did mention that we'd be at Poor Richard's until late tonight, right? Because we will be."
Jim smiled and nodded. Karen emerged from the Break room with a purposeful stride.
"Hey, Halpert. I was thinking. Why don't we get a nice hotel room tonight and spend the weekend in the City? It would be so great to get some real food, some real culture, some real fun......Plus, you just KNOW we'll want to get straight into a bed tonight...."
Author's Chapter Notes:
OK, first, a history lesson. Once upon a time, Indie music was called Alternative music. And, in a darker age before that, it was called "College Music." Which, conveniently, happened to coincide with the years when Maybe Once was in college.
Moral of the story? This chapter has a musical theme. go here: [li]http://www.amazon.com/Best-Poi-Pondering-Austin-Years/dp/B0009A1BB8/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-7270630-1318428?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1182557074&sr=8-1[/li]
and listen to the song called "Living with the Dreaming Body." You will hear the intro and the first verse, the verses referenced come later....
And, yes, I know that Jim and Pam were maybe 10 when this song came out. I don't care.
Chapter End Notes:
Maybe Once is the author of 13 other stories.
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