Just a regular day

The darkness invited Doug into its cold embrace. 

“Jim, turn the bloody lights on,” he shouted to his roommate, who, at the time, was enjoying the hugs of the void.

“Jim,” said Doug, “wake the fuck up”

Doug put some pressure on his roommate’s breathing, and Jim reacted with fury.

“What the fuck, dude? You kicked my ribs,” said Jim and started coughing.

Doug’s face seemed to turn red for a moment. This was enough for Jim to leave the joy of the void back, and say “hello” to the real world.

“Did you pay the bills?” asked Doug, trying to hide his emotions.

“You’re angry right now. Let’s talk about it another time, okay?”

Jim was trying to pacify Doug, but even his unique, diplomatic skills weren’t enough.

“You’re a terrible, terrible liar, you know,” said Doug. “I gave you the money, you promised to do it, and you forgot, right?”

Jim was ecstatic. For once, his reputation was helping him. He focused each and every one of his living brain cells in order to hide his happiness. Jim was known, to some circles, as a generous guy. He liked buying other people drinks, drugs and deodorants. His generosity was a product of Doug’s kindness and, of course, ignorance.  

“Yes, Doug. I am sorry. That’s exactly what I did. I forgot to pay the bills. Please, forgive me”

Doug was a soft guy with a hard exterior. That’s why Jim always called him “a soft-boiled egg”. Of course, he was only doing it behind his back, like a true friend.

“Look, man. I work my ass off every day to make money, and pay these fucking bills, all right? I want to forgive you because you are my best friend, but you have to do better than that, okay?”

Jim’s plan had worked. He could end this boring conversation, and go back to the void, where the warmth of the flesh awaited him.

“Doug, thank you. You’re the best. Sorry, but I have to leave. Bye,” said Jim and jumped on his bed. He was already dreaming of naked models having sex with him, when his body touched the mattress. 

Doug stood there, staring at his sleeping roommate, wondering what would happen, if he decided to send him to a place where return isn’t an option. 

“What would happen if I killed him?” he whispered to himself, and started walking away into the darkness that he called “home”.

The warm feeling of the morning light, getting through the curtains, was one of Doug’s favorite things to hate. The reappearance of the sun meant that he had to wake up, put on a fancy, but cheap, suit, pretend to eat, and go to the office, where he would type characters on a broken, coffee-stained keyboard, and then he would try to flirt with Laura. 

Laura was a tall, blonde, gorgeous, talented, sophisticated, well-read, and witty cleaning lady. She had been working in the office for many years. Her age was a mystery, but Doug was confident that he was going to solve the riddle called “Laura, the tall, blonde, gorgeous, talented, sophisticated, well-read, and witty cleaning lady”.

That day, Doug went to the office early. He took the elevator, and when this amazing piece of machinery stopped between the first and the second floor, he casually decided to climb out of it, open the door of the second floor with his bare hands, and then walk the rest of the way to the top of the skyscraper. He reached the top after a couple of wonderful hours. He looked at his amazing watch that he had bought the previous year from an old gipsy in the corner of his house, and a grin took over his average-looking face. He was on time. Then, he stepped into the office, and his soul was overwhelmed by emotions. 

He stood there, watching Laura kissing a guy. She was using her tongue and saliva wonderfully. Their bodies moved in the same rhythm, and their hands were slowly exploring each other’s bodies. Doug’s mind stopped. His thoughts became air, and the wind took them away, drove them to the air condition, recycled them and sent them back into his head. His body halted. He was really tired from the ascension. His sweat mixed with his tears and formed a small river on his face, as he stood there staring. 

“Who the fuck is this fucking guy?” he said politely. 

“Who?” asked Mark.

Mark was one of Doug’s co-workers. He was an awesome guy. One of his greatest attributes was his ability to appear like he didn’t have any abilities. If there ever was a prototype of the average human being, Mark wouldn’t be it. He was so average, that you couldn’t say he was average. Doug liked Mark, and Mark liked Doug, and they both hated each other. It’s what men do. 

“Oh, I was just talking to myself about something that I forgot to remind me to do,” said Doug, trying to avoid furthering the conversation. 

“I see. You’re avoiding the conversation because you don’t want me to know that you’re jealous of Laura kissing Jim,” said Mark.

“Jim? Who’s Jim?” 

“You don’t know Jim? You know Jim. He’s that guy with the red hair, the casual look and the big, fat tongue into Laura’s mouth,” said Mark, and he put his elbow into Doug’s stomach, trying to be playful.

Mark walked away, having a huge, disturbing grin on his face. Doug, on the other hand, had snot on his face. He fall down, curled like a ball, holding his hands around his stomach, but that didn’t prevent him from staring at Laura’s mouth rapist, Jim. 

Then, he cried again. When he managed to stand up, Laura was cleaning, Jim had left, and Mark was still smiling like he flew over a cuckoo's nest.

Doug walked to his cubicle, sat down on his half-broken chair, put his fingers in autopilot, and started typing strange characters on his coffee-stained keyboard. His body was working a full time job, but his mind was occupied by one and only thought. Who the fuck is Jim? He could have seen Jim’s face, if it wasn’t for Mark. The minutes passed, and turned into hours, but Doug was still lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, trying to find a way out. 

“Where is Doug?” asked Jonas. 

“He is staring at the ceiling for the last hour,” answered Mark. 

Jonas approached Doug’s desk slowly. He waived his hand in front of Doug’s face, but Doug didn’t flinch. 

“Wake the fuck up, Doug Jamison” he said and hit the desk. 

The crashing sound brought Doug back from the land of the lost thoughts. 

“Are you retarded, Doug?” said Jonas.

“No, sir” said Doug.

Jonas was Doug’s boss. Actually, one of his sixty six bosses. He was the boss on that floor, and he was a prick on every floor.

“No? Oh, that’s bad”

“Why, sir?”

“If you were retarded, we could blame your broken head for your mistakes. But now we are obligated to shout at you,” shouted Jonas.

Jonas liked talking in plural. It made him feel important and part of a team. A team that he leads, of course. He threw a piece of paper on Doug’s desk. The paper didn’t land immediately, but instead it flowed in the recycled air of the office. As a result, Jonas’ action wasn’t as dramatic as he might have wanted. 

Doug picked up the paper and looked at it. He spent a lot of energy not to laugh when he saw the report. He bit his tongue, he started breathing faster, and he lowered his head.  

“Read it out loud to us,” said Jonas.

Doug was trying too much not to laugh. He was trying so much, that a small sound was coming out of his mouth. It sounded like a sad puppy mixed with a plastic toy that was bitten by a sad puppy. A minute had passed, and Jonas was still standing over him, angrier than before. Mark was there too. Half of the floor had gathered around Doug’s cubicle. He couldn’t stay inactive any more. He stood up, looked around, raised the paper and started reading proudly. 

“September: Who the fuck is Jim? October: Who the fuck is Jim? November: Who the fuck is Jim?”

Everybody in the office burst into hysterical laughter. Everybody except for Jonas and Mark. They were just looking at Doug. Their faces were blank like a vampire of feelings had sucked the emotions out of them. 

Doug, on the other hand, was happy. It was like something had snapped inside him. He didn’t know what or how, but he felt different. Everyone was laughing at something he had said. That was a new experience for him. 

“Doug,” said Jonas, “do you realize what you did?”

“A mistake?” said Doug, hiding his smile behind a veil of micro-expressions.

“Don’t smile, you fucker. Yes, you made a mistake. Apologize to us”

“What do you mean by “us”?” asked Doug, using sarcasm for the first time in his life. 

“Mark, can you believe it? He is being sarcastic. Doug, do you think you’re funny?”

Doug’s smile grew. He didn’t answer. He just looked around. Everyone was still laughing. The endorphins filled the room, made everyone happy, and then killed themselves. 

Mark walked forward, stood next to Jonas and touched his shoulder.

“Jonas, come on. He made a mistake. Cut him some slack. He is not feeling well today. He saw Laura kissing Jim,” said Mark. 

“Oh, I didn’t know that. Jim is awesome. He’s so generous. Wait. Who is Laura?” said Jonas. 

Doug’s smile faded away. His mind drifted back to that thought. The small window of happiness was over. Somebody closed it, sealed it, built a wall in front of it, and wrote “Laura fucks Jim, not you” on it.

“Laura is the most beautiful, smart, and kind cleaning lady in the building,” said Doug.

Mark laughed, Jonas laughed, and the whole office was still laughing.

“She is not that beautiful, Doug. She’s just a cleaning lady,” said Jonas in the midst of his deep breaths between his laughs. 

“At last, somebody said it,” agreed Mark.

A few moments later, the laughter had stopped. The endorphins had killed themselves, and the office was a huge space full of frozen people. They had never seen anything like that. They weren’t blinking, breathing, or feeling. Their organisms had shut down to protect them. Some images can change a person. 

The gray floor had lost its original color, and a small pool had formed on the carpet. The sound of the dripping, red liquid was disturbing. Of course, it wasn’t as disturbing as the image of your co-worker murdering one of your sixty six bosses, and Mark, in cold blood, but still, it was disturbing. 

Doug seemed lost in his brain again. He lost control over his own body for one moment, and he made another mistake. The first mistake was funny, and so was the second one, depending on your point of view. 

He put down his bloody pen, wiped the red liquid off his fancy, cheap suit, and, without looking at the frozen people in the office, he left. 

“I guess he quits,” said someone in the crowd, and everybody started laughing again.