85 - Good

     "Look," said one of the kids catching me in the small kitchen of our office, "I've been reading some of your, your, what do you call it...The Days?"

     "Yes," I said trying to get the ice machine to work.  "I call it The Days."  I was a little caught off guard because I don't talk about life at work.

     When I'm at work I tend to put the outside world on the back burner.  I'm not the happy friendly guy.  I don't care what you did on the weekend.  The girls you're interested in don't interest me, they're too young.  The only thing they know about me is that I wear suits in a business casual environment.  He must have found this from looking me up on twit/face/sound/space.

     I am older than ninety-five percent of my office.  There is a HUGE gap in wants, needs, and interests.  When I have a bad month I figure out what bills can get paid and then I just go to work and go home.  When I have a good month I pay off all the utilities, get ahead on the credit cards, dump money into my retirement fund, help my Mom with her bills, and pay as much to the oil man as I can.  To keep costs down I try to bring in breakfast and snacks that will last me through the day.  It's always nice when a vendor brings in food for lunch or hosts a happy hour.  

     Most of the kids, as I call them, get to work and immediately begin planning what they will have for breakfast.  After they have gone to get breakfast they will work for about an hour and start planning what they will have for lunch.  When they have finished lunch and they have worked for another hour or two the conversation leads to what's going on that night.  I have to admit I do go out on Friday nights.  I head to a little dive just down the road from work but that's because they have free wings and I really want to sleep with the bartender.

     "So 'The Days'," he continued, "when do they get good?"

     "Good?  What do you mean good?" I asked finally getting the ice machine to give ice and water at the same time.

     "They're well written but," he paused trying not to hurt my feelings, "they're a little slow.  Kara read all of them and she loves them.  Won't stop talking about them.  I tried to get into in them but you lose me at the rain forest and hammering machines.

     "Do you have any particular favorites?"

     I considered going off on a tirade about back story and getting to know the characters.

     "Spell Check is a good one.  It's the first Paris story."  I answered.  "Yoga Class is another good one, too.  It's a three parter."

     "Thanks, man.  Kara won't stop talking about them."

     "No problem."  I said capping my cup.  Kara, even though she was in HR, was my favorite bartender's best friend.  The Days were about to pick up a bit.

That Beautiful Black Man