Page 2 of Until Next Time
“Ahh, so just burnin’ brain cells over there on this fine morning?”
I kind of have to give him shit for this. It’s funny seeing my father giggling at stupid videos on the internet. But it’s also kind of…nice?
“Say what you want, but my brain seems to just be getting hit after hit of dopamine seeing all these fail videos. Hey—why don’t ya go grab a cup of coffee and come here. I kind of want to talk to you about something.”
I just give him a grunt and a nod while I make my way over to the kitchen.
There’s a creamy colored coffee pot sitting on the counter that has the look of a vintage kitchen appliance but is definitely not, and also definitely way overpriced for a normal drip coffee pot, but my mom was always very into that kind of thing. New things that looked old.“Charming”is what she used to say.
I push away any potential thoughts correlating to the coffee pot my mom loved and grab a mug off of the open shelving in the kitchen that my parents painted butter yellow. Hippy dippy, remember? Yeah, the whole house looks like a flea market, yet tasteful? I don’t know—somehow it just works. Mom always had a way with that kind of thing.
The mug I grab is white with a script type font across it that says“Big Tits, Bigger Heart.”Why. Why is this in my parents mug collection?
I make my way back into the living room and sit in the modern recliner. I’m facing my dad and he’s still staring down at his new found source of entertainment. “Dad, I was thinking we can start the day with grabbing some breakfast at Mel’s Diner”
“Daws, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about… I’ll just say it and hope you get where I’m coming from—I’m not gonna join in on the‘festivities’today.”
He put air quotes around the “festivities” to get the point across.
“I hope you’re ok with that. I just know you get so worried about me on this day, and I really just think treating it like any other day is what’s healthier for me. Ya know? Just live in the moment, find joy in the mundane? That’s the sort of thing she would say, huh?!” He chuckled on that last bit. I knew what he meant. And he was right, maybe treating this day like any other would be healthier for the both of us.
“Yeah, that’s fine dad. I’m good with whatever you feel is best for you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
He’s looking at me like he can see exactly what I’m thinking. It’s kind of disarming honestly.
“Son, I’m going to be okay. I am Okay. Don’t worry about your old man so much. Let me take care of all the worrying. Go do something fun today. Let off some steam, take a drive. Listen to that weird music you like. But quit your worrying.” I scoff.
“Weird music? Uncultured swine.”
He laughs and I grab my coffee and head back to my room to figure out what the hell I’m going to do until tonight… and to figure out ifI’m okay.
2
Birdie
October 31st
I’ve never been into Halloween. The whole idea of it is just weird to me. Creepy and evil shit everywhere? No thank you. I have enough scary thoughts of my own. Thank you, anxiety— I don’t need to purposely freak myself out. And if today wasn’t spooky enough on it’s own, I now find myself standing in a glass elevator holding a vintage coca cola crate spilling with the contents of my desk drawers heading towards the lobby of the publishing house Iusedto work for.
Emphasis on theused.
Stella, my boss, called me into her office about thirty minutes ago and wasted no time by letting me know that there wasn’t really a need for my assistance anymore. I kind of started to black out so I can’t even really remember what she was saying.Something about Tammy, the new office manager, suggested getting creative with assistants and cutting the “fluff” to save on some overhead. I felt like I was watching myself from outside of my body as I saluted to Stella after she gave her speech. All I could muster was a drawn out,“alrighty then.”
So apparently I salute to people and sayalrighty then.
I’m that girl. Wow, I’m something to behold aren’t I? If doing the ‘I’ve just been fired’ walk of shame down a windowed elevator for everyone in this building to see wasn’t humiliating enough, I chose today to wear my new pink tights with hearts on the knees and my chunky white pumps, a pink plaid pleated skirt and silky white blouse. I mean, I look adorable—but you can tell I’ve been blindsided, because this is not an outfit I’d wear to work if I had any notion of getting fired.
I’d obviously wear my black tights with lighting bolts on them forthatoccasion.
Going out with a bang. Get it?
The elevator stops on the 7th floor, and the doors open as I have my head thrown back while groaning “I’m so pathetic.” I’m too busy wrapped up in my own pity, I don’t even notice who has stepped into the elevator. I pull myself back to reality and find myself standing behind a group of older gentleman in designer suits, very shiny, very polished loafers, discussing their weekend tee times.
Maybe this is good. Maybe I needed this to happen. I really don’t fit in here, and I’m too damn loyal for my own good. I would have remained Stella’s bitch forever probably, just waiting for her to promote me, which she probably would never end up doing because she is actually the worst. She’s like Halloween if Halloween was a person. I’ve been here for five years in hopes that my career as a journalist would come to fruition, but here I am, five years later—jobless and wearing pink tights.
3
Birdie
