If it wasn't Thursday - I'd be heading over to Ernie's Gun and Pawn to buy me a new, shiny, rapid-firing toy.
I walked in, opened the doors, turned on the lights and hadn't even sat down at my prison, oops, 'scuse me, desk when an evil lawyer walked off the elevator. He slinked to my desk, oozing slime and destruction in his wake : "Do I have the conference rooms today?" he asked. I glance at the clock and it glares at me in insolence: 8:27. I have three minutes before I check my soul in for consumption. Three minutes of MY time left. 180 seconds left of freedom and he's already making me WORK.
I reach in my purse and pull out my Kate Spade case so that I may place my sunglasses in their proper home - I'm also stalling - I want my three minutes - FREEEEEDOM!
He stands there - unblinking and unfased at my "I CAN'T HEAR YOUUUUUU!"-NESS.
"Let me check that for you." My purse falls over at this time. Off the desk - on to the floor and spills it's contents, feminine products, secrets and a bit of my dignity on to the stained carpeting.
"Well, crap!" I say with maybe a little too much venom in my voice. He's shaken.
"I guess I could just look myself..." his voice trails off as his eyes lock on to my Dooney's innards.
"Nope, I'll do it for you." I put my sunglasses down and then throw the case to the floor to pile on top of the rest of my life - laying out in full view of passerbys.
He then walked off and left his keys on my desk.
OH - the possibilities! muah-ha-ha!