Another Day, Another Dollar
He'd been awake for maybe twenty minutes when she snapped at him. She was stressed, he understood that, but what did he do wrong?'There should be an amnesty period for at least the first hour you're awake every day. No yelling within that first hour. It's like shooting the enemy while he's taking a leak...' Mike thought. The day before, an Air Force Master Sergeant had goteen on his case for 'not tipping' the carwash guy. She hadn't seen him put the twenty dollar bill in the tip box and had felt it within her duty to pull him out of his car and interrogate him about his views on gratuity. Not that it mattered, because as soon as the car had been washed it started to downpour. 'It's like God doesn't want me to do anything right.' he thought with a slight sigh.
His nerves were raw and open, like a dog's bone; over-chewed. They hung bloody and exposed, and it seemed like everyone wanted their turn to jump on them. "Must not be my day," he mumbled as he buttoned up his wine colored shirt, the final step before driving to the interview. As if to verify that it was in fact not his day, the sky thundered and it began to pour.
His nerves were raw and open, like a dog's bone; over-chewed. They hung bloody and exposed, and it seemed like everyone wanted their turn to jump on them. "Must not be my day," he mumbled as he buttoned up his wine colored shirt, the final step before driving to the interview. As if to verify that it was in fact not his day, the sky thundered and it began to pour.