cubicle afternoon
I was headed for the door with a handfull of Tootsie rolls, a Dr. Pepper, and a 4 wood when my boss stopped me."Don't hit that man, we have Faygo" he said.
"I'm hitting the Tootsie Rolls."
"Oh, right on."
I hit the back door and made it out onto the patch of grass behind the building, where the afternoon sun had painted everything in sepia tones. I tossed the Tootsies on the ground and maneuvered one into position with the clubhead, fished out a smoke, and prepared to let rip.
I thought: "I am Jack Fucking Nicklaus."
I wound up and sliced the club through all 360 degrees of a textbook swing, sending the Tootsie wobbling through the air like a doped up sparrow in a cross wind. I was admiring my handiwork and enjoying my smoke when the boss emerged from the building with some cans of orange Faygo.
He shook a can up and let the rest drop into the grass as I handed him the club.
"You're going to put me in a cube aren't you." I prodded.
"Nothing I can do about it, man"
"You know I really hate cubes."
"Just shut up already, would you?"
He wound up and swung awkwardly, grazing the side of the upright can with the clubhead. Orange soda gushed from the side, and I thought to myself "Just like the Titanic".
I shook up a can and laid it on its side, the bottom facing the club head. I swung at it, and connected solidly with the bottom of the can, instantly detonating it. The soda became a yard-wide cone of vaguely orange droplets, each catching the afternoon rays and arcing away from the bizarre sculpture the can had become.
I tossed my cigarette and went to get another can of Faygo.
I hate being in a cubicle.
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