Keith felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. He had been staring at his computer screen for two hours. The information was becoming hammers and his brain was becoming mush. Hearing the knock on his door, he turned to see Detective Dameon Hartfield standing in his doorway. "What can I do for you Dameon?"
"Um. Sir, I was wondering if you would wanna get drinks tonight?"
"Why Dameon, I would love to. Is it ok if Angela comes with?"
"Oh I suppose so. I will be bringing Helen, so."
"Ok sounds great. Seven at Dukes?"
"Ok see you there sir."
With that Dameon left and Keith called Angela.
"Hi sweetie, how was your day?"
"Well it could have been better, but this prick copped a feel when I was clearing a table. He soon found out where my fist ends up when people cop feels."
Keith smiled as he imagined her fist is some poor idiot's face, "So what would you say to drinks with me, Dameon and Helen?"
"Oh, I think that would be lovely. I always love talking with Helen. Seven at Dukes, I'm guessing?"
"Yes, am I that predictable?"
"Do you have to ask? But that's ok, I don't mind."
"Ok, well see you tonight. Goodbye honey."
"See you later, sweetums.
Keith chuckled a bit and hung up the phone. He looked back to his computer screen and saw the time. It was 5:30. How had time got away from him? That didn't matter now. He checked his inbox and was enraged to find they did not contain lab reports. Did they not know this was a priority case? He turned to his phone and punched in the lab's number. When there answering machine started boasting that they were out of the lab at the moment, he slammed the receiver down on the phone. Getting up from his chair, he started to pace. He wondered how there wasn't a rut in his office floor. When he examined the carpeted floor he saw a distinct wear mark. Chuckling he sat back down and went back to killing his eyeballs.