Buzzz.....Buzzz.....Buzzz..... Stuart woke up to the sounds of his alarm clock, as he pulled the bed sheets from over his head, and stirred up at the ceiling.
“Another day. Do I really have to get up?”, he thought.
“I could just call in sick and stay in bed all day”, he continued.
He couldn't face another day at that place he called work. It's so boring, and my supervisor is an idiot. He would recite this to himself every morning. Then, with twist of his arm, he shut off the alarm clock. Slowly he got out of bed, and staggered to the bathroom. Stirring at himself in the mirror, while brushing his teeth, he thought,
“You look about fifty years old, what happened to you?”.
The truth of the matter is that, although he felt fifty years old, he was in fact only twenty seven. He then went on to think that there some very fit fifty year olds out there, and some were even better looking than he was.
After pausing, looking into space and pondering that thought, he washed his face, combed his hair, and went into the kitchen to make some coffee. While drinking his coffee, he pulled on his shirt and started to look around for his keys. He was struggling to find his music player also.
“Where is it?”, he moaned.
“I have to find it, I can't ride the tube train without it..................found it!”.
Stuart didn't mix very well with others. Sure he had a few buddies he went drinking with, but he always sort of felt out place, and awkward. He had a string of failed relationships too, the most recent was Claire, who would constantly leave messages on his answer machine. “It's not like she wasn't a nice girl, but I wasn't looking for anything heavy, and besides, she was a very obsessive person”, he would always justify to himself for splitting up with her, and he couldn't handle the fact of her obsessiveness. In any event he always checked his answer machine before leaving for work, and today was no exception. After listening to four or five messages, he lost count, Stuart decided to leave for the tube station.
He walked towards the elevator, with his hands in his jacket pockets. He pressed the button to call the elevator, and stood stirring at his surroundings. Looking at the graffiti on the walls, and sniffing a vial smell of urine, he mused,
“What a wonderful apartment block this is, and to think, it costs me $750 a month. You'd think the janitor would clean up once in a while.”
The elevator arrived, doors opening, to reveal a full car. Stuart squeezed in between a rather large lady, and a someone, who to all intense and purposes, looked like a druggie. He held his breathe as long as he could, as the car stunk of urine and bad body odours. By the time they got to the lobby, he was ready to pass out, and was glad to be the first out of the car. Quickly he made his way over to the tube station.
He arrived at work, after his forty five minute train ride, to find a stack of paperwork sat on his desk. His heart sank,
“Great, first thing on a Monday morning, and I have a massive stack of shit to do. All I need now is that over bearing idiot to come marching in making all kinds of stupid demands”, he thought shrugging his shoulders.
Just as he sat down, his worst fear came true. Barry was the office manager, and liked to lord it over anyone he could. Stuart often thought this was the case because his wife beat him at home, and it was his way of getting back his manhood. He came waddling over to the office, doughnut in one hand, and coffee in the other.
He always seemed to have stains of his most recent meals on his ties that, by the way, never seemed to be fully around his neck, as his top button would never be closed. He was a portly kind of chap, who would sweat in any weather, stains in the arms pits of his shirts, and his bald head gleaming of the same. Stuart would know when he got close, as his scent always proceeded him.
“Right, shit for brains”, Barry yelled at Stuart.
“I need all this paperwork processing by noon today”, he continued.
“You are joking, there's at least three days work here”, Stuart replied.
“Well, if you can't do it, am sure there are plenty of people out there who can”, Barry snorted.
Stuart just looked at the stack, his head dropped, and resigned he said,
“I'll have it done, Barry”.
“I know you will”, Barry said sarcastically.
He turned around and walked out the office. Stuart gave him the finger as soon as he turned his back.
“I can see you, Stuart!”, Barry chirped.
Stuart, who didn't care if Barry saw him or not, begrudgingly got stuck into the paperwork.
The day dragged on for Stuart, he gazed up at the clock on the wall, 3pm it read,
“Is that all the time is?”, he said wearily.
He sat at his desk, looking out of the 23rd floor window, pondering that there must be more to life than this,
“How did I end up in this shitty job?”, he thought.
“Nothing ever happens, it's the same old shit every day. Barry being a jerk, Claire ringing me every five minutes, debt collectors chasing payments. It's just so mundane, there must be a way out of it.”, he continued.
Time passed as Stuart carried on day dreaming, and five o'clock soon came around. He started to gather his stuff together, when Barry came in.
“And just where do you think your going?”, he asked.
“Home, because I live there!”, Stuart remarked.
“I don't think so kiddo. These numbers don't add up.”, he threw Stuart's work for the day onto his desk.
“You have to be kidding?”, Stuart said.
“I'll do it tomorrow”.
“You won't. You will stay tonight and get it finished”, Barry barked back at him.
“What?”, Stuart said in a resigned tone, shoulders dropping.
“Just get it done numb nuts, I am going home. See you bright and early tomorrow”, Barry quipped as he left.
“Fantastic, the day just gets worse.”, Stuart said as he sat down to get on with it.
Lifting up the papers, which where all stuck together with sugar off Barry's doughnuts, Stuart pulled a face which said he was going to be sick. It seemed like all he every did lately was work late......
7pm it read on the office clock, and Stuart was getting fed up with the work he had to do.
“Fuck it, I am going home”, he said.
He got his things together, and headed off to the train station. At the ticket office, the girl behind the desk made a comment on him being late from work tonight. Stuart replied with some very choice words about Barry, and said,
“Thanks for the ticket, and have a nice night”.
He made his way down to the same platform he used every night, and sat down on the same bench that he sits at every night. He sat there listening to his music, and trying to read the magazine he just bought. He couldn't get into it, so he put it down, and began to think,
“How sad is this? The same platform, same bench, and the same train every night. My god everything about my life is so boring. If someone was to write a book about me, it would be so dull, and a good book to fall asleep too I am sure”.
He continued to sit in silence, listening to his music until his train arrived.
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