It’s raining. Raining in January. That’s bit odd. I guess it goes with my mood.
An hour ago, I was happy. In a rout, but happy. Y’know, one never knows what to expect from life except that you hope that the high times, the best of times, are going to last forever. Or at least enough to get you through to the worst.
But hey, Mark Kozelek said it better than me: “Who can pretend that there’s a beginning without an end?”.
I light another menthol cigarette, take a good hit and sigh the smoke out.
Shit. A poker of shit is what life just served me.
No wonder the retards from human resources didn’t renew my employee card nor did I get any reply from their office regarding the matter. Those bastards knew all along I was getting fired and made no attempts to keep me here.
Not that I want to spend my entire life in this piss poor excuse of an environmental consultancy. No sir, I’m destined for greater things. Great challenges that will arrive one day and people will see my worth. They’ll finally appreciate me for what I am and what I know. It will be my turn in the spotlight.
A security guard is talking in a walkie talkie and points at me from a far. Two janitors with mops and buckets walk towards what it used to be my place on the computer assisted design lab.
Those fucking maps digitizers, plotters, scanners, spectrum analysers, servers and routers. How I hate them all now. It irks me that having done so much chemistry and environment science I was reduced to be some sort of workhorse for other people’s glories.
Do an interactive map with risk, photographs and real data? Leave it to me. Edit a video and make it nice and shiny for the impressionable top brass at the oil company that spilled shit at a beach resort, leaving them blameless for the disaster? That’s my job. Correct a motherfucking 10000 entries database in piss poor excel just to get some government sucker tell me that “no gasoil was spilled there, it was only drainage”? Me, silly old fucking me.
All this time, this 15 months, they never gave me a shot. They had me doing basically a grunt’s job. Even the so called “soil specialists” that couldn’t finish their work got kudos when I stepped up to the plate and fucking did their job. Lazy ass fucks, they can go a suck themselves to death.
On a brighter note, this menthol ciggies that my friend Yartzi got me are frickin’ sweet. I stopped smoking about a month ago, but I’m back on the pack a day grind. Fuck it, we all are going to die and I might as well have a word on the task, y’know?
50 minutes ago, David, a cool workmate arrived with some chicken and cheese tortas that I loved. Mine usually has no chile and certainly no avocado. Chile is the last resort of bad cooks, who overcompensate their lack of taste by adding spicy chiles to hide the fact they shouldn’t be near skillets and pots. Avocado is just plain nasty and it makes me vomit any time I eat it.
40 minutes ago, I finished my torta and was about to do some papers about bioremediation for my boss when he called me. He had a face pale like a rice cake and his voice had that “oh shit, now what do I do?” tone.
I understood and went out to the hall to speak with him. I knew him well enough to know it was some serious shit and he never would expect me to do a scene. I still went to the hall because, hey, there’s always a first time for everything.
“I’m gonna have to let you go”.
I sighed. I guess somehow it was some sort of a relief since the job has been a little unsatisfying lately, but still…
“A complaint has been filed about you”.
He saw my look of confusion and explained.
“They said you were here only of because who your father is. So, to avoid a nepotism charge, I have to let you go”.
“But my dad is in another department. A whole different ball game, man. It’s not like he gave me this job. You did.”
“I know, but they presented their case and they are having you out by next friday”.
Ah well.
I nodded and went back into the office, so did my boss. We started to eat the tortas, when I felt a horrid flavour in my mouth.
“Fuck, avocado!” were my thoughts and then I vomited on the floor.
Cleaning staff was called to clean my mess. I went out to get some air and smoke a few menthols. I see the hour on my clock. 4:20. I’m fucking angry, depressed and my phone is ringing. I ignore the calls, take another deep breath from the menthol and put the cigarette out with a “no smoking” sign by the wall.
Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.
