through the side entrance. I walked down a hallway past the sea of cubes, the clicking noises of many keyboards filling the air. At last it was in sight, Jim's office. Seated at a desk just outside of it was his assistant, Sheila...the girl who owned my heart, non-beating as it were.
She was slim, about five-five, with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She had the most unusual eyes, almost a grey in color. They kind of looked like the sky on a cloudy day. OK, time to stop that. Too many of those thoughts, and I'd probably be writing shitty goth poetry next thing I knew. Anyway, suffice it to say that, to my eyes, she was truly something to behold. Hers was a different kind of beauty than Sally's. Whereas Sally would have looked at home on the cover of Vogue , Playboy ...or even Skank magazine, Sheila was more of the girl next door type. She never would have passed as a fashion model, but she had a warm, inviting smile that said she was approachable in a “Hi, I'm really glad to see you” sort of way, as opposed to the “Please stick a twenty down my G-string” type of look I had gotten used to from my coven-mates. I tried to summon a little of my Dr. Death persona as I approached, minus of course the claws, fangs, or anything else that might scream undead demon from Hell.
It didn't work. Dr. Death was taking his vacation from the coven very seriously, it would seem. Bastard! I could feel my resolve slowly starting to crumble in the wake of her presence. My steps slowed, my knees started shaking, and that's when she looked up.
“Bill? Is that you?” she asked. Holy shit! She did know my name! Thank you, God!
“Hey, Sheila. Long time no see,” was my response...argh! Why did I have to sound like such a fucking douche-nozzle!?
“Yeah. We haven't seen you in months. I had heard you were sick.”
“Oh, not sick so much as I have a bit of a condition,” I stammered. “I'm getting treatment. I actually feel pretty good today.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, that friendly smile spreading across her face. “You look good.”
“YOU LOOK LIKE A GODDESS!!” I wanted to scream, but instead just replied, “Thanks...um, you too.” At least I sorta managed to sputter a compliment with that last one.
“So what brings you here?” she asked, her smile still making me melt from the inside out. I wonder if being staked felt like this...nah, probably not.
Hold on! What was I doing here!? Motherfucker! I had spent so much time working my way up to the actual getting here part that I hadn't bothered to come up with a single simple reason to actually be in the office. Unfortunately, “professing my love to you,” wasn't really an answer that I felt like giving out quite yet. ARGH! Think, stupid!
So I said the first thing that popped into my mind. “I'm here to pick up my paycheck.”
“On a Thursday?” ( Shit! )
“Well...”
“I thought you were on direct deposit.” ( Fuck Fuck Fuckity Fuck!!! )
“Sorry, I didn't mean pick up my paycheck. I needed...to...change a few things on my W2.” ( OK that was better. The engines were reigniting. Maybe I could pull out of this death-spin. )
“Oh. Did you get married?” ( Mayday! Mayday! )
“NO!” I said, way too emphatically. “Nothing like that. Still single. Yep, just another eligible bachelor in the city. That's me.” ( God, I want to die! Seriously, please let Sally or some other vampire be sneaking up behind me right now with a stake to put me out of my misery )
“Oh,” she said, looking a little confused. This was not going how I had planned. Well, OK, my plan had more or less consisted of walking coolly through the hall and her flinging herself into my arms at first sight. What? I never claimed my plan was realistic.
“I think HR usually takes care of that stuff,” she finished.
“Oh, I know that. I just wanted to pop by. Check out the old homestead.
She was slim, about five-five, with shoulder length dirty blonde hair. She had the most unusual eyes, almost a grey in color. They kind of looked like the sky on a cloudy day. OK, time to stop that. Too many of those thoughts, and I'd probably be writing shitty goth poetry next thing I knew. Anyway, suffice it to say that, to my eyes, she was truly something to behold. Hers was a different kind of beauty than Sally's. Whereas Sally would have looked at home on the cover of Vogue , Playboy ...or even Skank magazine, Sheila was more of the girl next door type. She never would have passed as a fashion model, but she had a warm, inviting smile that said she was approachable in a “Hi, I'm really glad to see you” sort of way, as opposed to the “Please stick a twenty down my G-string” type of look I had gotten used to from my coven-mates. I tried to summon a little of my Dr. Death persona as I approached, minus of course the claws, fangs, or anything else that might scream undead demon from Hell.
It didn't work. Dr. Death was taking his vacation from the coven very seriously, it would seem. Bastard! I could feel my resolve slowly starting to crumble in the wake of her presence. My steps slowed, my knees started shaking, and that's when she looked up.
“Bill? Is that you?” she asked. Holy shit! She did know my name! Thank you, God!
“Hey, Sheila. Long time no see,” was my response...argh! Why did I have to sound like such a fucking douche-nozzle!?
“Yeah. We haven't seen you in months. I had heard you were sick.”
“Oh, not sick so much as I have a bit of a condition,” I stammered. “I'm getting treatment. I actually feel pretty good today.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said, that friendly smile spreading across her face. “You look good.”
“YOU LOOK LIKE A GODDESS!!” I wanted to scream, but instead just replied, “Thanks...um, you too.” At least I sorta managed to sputter a compliment with that last one.
“So what brings you here?” she asked, her smile still making me melt from the inside out. I wonder if being staked felt like this...nah, probably not.
Hold on! What was I doing here!? Motherfucker! I had spent so much time working my way up to the actual getting here part that I hadn't bothered to come up with a single simple reason to actually be in the office. Unfortunately, “professing my love to you,” wasn't really an answer that I felt like giving out quite yet. ARGH! Think, stupid!
So I said the first thing that popped into my mind. “I'm here to pick up my paycheck.”
“On a Thursday?” ( Shit! )
“Well...”
“I thought you were on direct deposit.” ( Fuck Fuck Fuckity Fuck!!! )
“Sorry, I didn't mean pick up my paycheck. I needed...to...change a few things on my W2.” ( OK that was better. The engines were reigniting. Maybe I could pull out of this death-spin. )
“Oh. Did you get married?” ( Mayday! Mayday! )
“NO!” I said, way too emphatically. “Nothing like that. Still single. Yep, just another eligible bachelor in the city. That's me.” ( God, I want to die! Seriously, please let Sally or some other vampire be sneaking up behind me right now with a stake to put me out of my misery )
“Oh,” she said, looking a little confused. This was not going how I had planned. Well, OK, my plan had more or less consisted of walking coolly through the hall and her flinging herself into my arms at first sight. What? I never claimed my plan was realistic.
“I think HR usually takes care of that stuff,” she finished.
“Oh, I know that. I just wanted to pop by. Check out the old homestead.
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