Unbounded

“The last thing I remembered was cheap whiskey and cheaper perfume. I think her name was Vanessa. I clearly wasn’t paying any attention; I just didn’t want to drink alone.

Vanessa, Van, V. the girl who had an opinion to just about anything you could conceivably throw at her at. Opinions which, at least to her anyway, needed to be heard for her to feel, well, noticed. Vanessa. Verbose.

So there I was, idling in a dull, throbbing semi-consciousness. I knew I was in for a rude awakening. But an apocalyptic hangover wouldn’t be the worst of my problems.

For the past two days, the silent vibrations of my phone were more of a nuisance rather than an anticipation of a sweet nothing. I checked my answering machine today and got about ten messages all from the same sender:

‘[beep]

Hey. I’m calling to tell you that we were expecting you yesterday but you failed to show up. Anyway, we’ve been meaning to ask something from you regarding her case, and I suppose you know that there’s a pending case between the management against her, and we received some documents in which you’re involved. So as your former employer, we would like to protect your interest as well, so we were hoping to hear your side, if possible. So there. Give me a call or message, okay?

[beep]’

I never expected that this whole case would grow so much to become extremely overrated. I never wanted to become legally implicated in this shuffle between her and everything else, but it seemed inevitable. Looks like what she did to me sealed the deal. My deal. My fate.

I guess the price for me to do anything is as much as a shot of whiskey and a blowjob. ‘Protect your interest’, HAH! What bull. These are the things that I loose my sleep over, and I love my sleep.

Now, you can leave me alone with my thoughts and my next shot of drink.”

xxx