Skip ficlet
Title: Workingman's Blues #3
Author: Beer Good (beer_good_foamy)
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 300
Prompt: 004, Skip
Characters/Pairing (if any): Skip
Joey "Skip" Scipowicz couldn't really complain about his life.
He'd never been the toughest jock in school, he'd never dated cheerleaders, he would never run his own business, but still... his job at Davidson's Steel Imports might be boring (and he hated wearing a tie), but he got along with everyone and he could afford to take his wife (who had a great personality) to the movies once a week.
No, the problem wasn't the job itself. It was the getting there. And that day it was worse than ever.
6.45 AM. Pitch dark. The freezing rain had turned his cap into a soggy sponge on his head by the time the station manager announced that the next commuter train, already 20 minutes late, was cancelled and the next one would be along in an hour or so.
This is where Joey snapped.
He rushed the station manager, grabbed him and started screaming things he'd never considered himself capable of thinking, much less saying in public, in the man's face. "WHY?!? WHY?!? THE TRAIN IS ALWAYS LATE! I SPEND FOUR HOURS ON THIS FUCKING TRAIN EVERY DAY! I GET UP AT 5 TO BE HOME BY 9! I NEVER SEE MY KIDS! I'VE BEEN DOING THIS EVERY DAY FOR EIGHT YEARS AND I'LL BE DOING IT UNTIL I RETIRE! WHY?!? WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME LIKE THIS?" Joey was sobbing now, hysterical. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!? I'M FUCKING SICK OF IT! I'D SELL MY SOUL FOR A SHORTER COMMUTE!"
At which point the station manager - whose eyes, Joey suddenly noticed, glowed mysteriously red - smiled and produced a contract. "I think something can be arranged. I happen to have an opening in the steel business. If you'll just sign here..."
So now Skip has a shorter commute. And the dress code rocks.
Author: Beer Good (beer_good_foamy)
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 300
Prompt: 004, Skip
Characters/Pairing (if any): Skip
Joey "Skip" Scipowicz couldn't really complain about his life.
He'd never been the toughest jock in school, he'd never dated cheerleaders, he would never run his own business, but still... his job at Davidson's Steel Imports might be boring (and he hated wearing a tie), but he got along with everyone and he could afford to take his wife (who had a great personality) to the movies once a week.
No, the problem wasn't the job itself. It was the getting there. And that day it was worse than ever.
6.45 AM. Pitch dark. The freezing rain had turned his cap into a soggy sponge on his head by the time the station manager announced that the next commuter train, already 20 minutes late, was cancelled and the next one would be along in an hour or so.
This is where Joey snapped.
He rushed the station manager, grabbed him and started screaming things he'd never considered himself capable of thinking, much less saying in public, in the man's face. "WHY?!? WHY?!? THE TRAIN IS ALWAYS LATE! I SPEND FOUR HOURS ON THIS FUCKING TRAIN EVERY DAY! I GET UP AT 5 TO BE HOME BY 9! I NEVER SEE MY KIDS! I'VE BEEN DOING THIS EVERY DAY FOR EIGHT YEARS AND I'LL BE DOING IT UNTIL I RETIRE! WHY?!? WHY DO YOU TORMENT ME LIKE THIS?" Joey was sobbing now, hysterical. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!? I'M FUCKING SICK OF IT! I'D SELL MY SOUL FOR A SHORTER COMMUTE!"
At which point the station manager - whose eyes, Joey suddenly noticed, glowed mysteriously red - smiled and produced a contract. "I think something can be arranged. I happen to have an opening in the steel business. If you'll just sign here..."
So now Skip has a shorter commute. And the dress code rocks.