Thursday, February 07, 2008

Long Day

Thomas stepped through his apartment doorway, dripping water onto his welcome mat. He dropped his tool bag down to his side. It landed with the damp thud of dead fish. His cold, wet clothes stuck to his skin, and he shivered as he slowly walked to his bathroom, squishing with every step. The pipe in the basement had burst again. Fortunately, he'd been home when it happened this time. Unfortunately, he'd been passed out next to his coffee table in his underwear at eleven in the morning when the tenets came banging on his door to inform him about it.

Thomas decided that the best thing for being cold, wet, and hung-over was a shower. However, by the end of the shower, he found that only one of those conditions had changed and that he should probably get some coffee before setting out for the local hardware store to get a permanent replacement for his temporary piping fix.

On his way toward the coffee shop he noticed he had a new voicemail message. The message played: "Thomas, it's me, Alex. I'm here with Miranda. She just informed me of the actions you took last night without getting the permission of or even informing the rest of the team. I'm disappointed and appalled.

"I appreciate your … enthusiasm … and your … conviction … but this is not the way we do business. We are crime fighters. This is exactly the kind of action we are supposed try to prevent.

"Now, I know you've been on edge since the incident with the Long-Arm Lady – we all have – but that does not justify your actions! You are out of line and out of control. We just can't tolerate this kind of behavior.

"I think you're a danger to the team, and, frankly, a danger to yourself. I think we'd be better off without you on the team; I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go."

Thomas stood with his head against a building, his phone to his ear, trying simultaneously not to vomit and to comprehend this message. Am I being fired … from being a superhero?

"Oh, and I'm going to need that suit back." The message ended.

"No fucking way," Thomas mumbled as he continued on his way to the coffee shop. He plodded down the sidewalk and pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. It was empty. This is going to be a long day.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Circa Now