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M – Part Fifteen



It isn’t quite 9 o’clock yet when I wake up, fresh as a rose. I can’t believe it, I outran my alarm clock! I’ll be damned! I think the last time I woke up before that devil’s invention did its job, was on Christmas back when I was a kid. I knew Santa had garnished the foot of the Christmas tree with gifts during the night… And even back then, I’m sure Mom had to remind me! I have to face the evidence, last night’s frolics (ok, the wine probably helped too) have contributed to the best night I had in ages. I had forgotten the angel sleep that came after a top quality orgasm.

Something feels strange… I can’t spot my two furry balls anywhere on the bed. I wonder if I finally scared them away with my bacon dance last night, moaning like a teenager in heat. Or maybe they’ve slept in the living room all these years, but they rush back to my room when they hear the alarm waking me up. One way or the other, I know they’ll soon be in my way; my room opens directly into the kitchen, and there is no way I could do anything before feeding my two little monsters, famished after doing absoluuuuuutely nothing, all night long. (Except for Fiou who has most likely found something to throw to the ground, and/or break it, even if I have banned all kinds of trinkets and ornaments from the apartment a long time ago) 11th commandment: The cats, with no derogation, you’ll feed as soon as you wake up!
Little morning routine, but today)), I also have to stop by my travelling agency, to get my airplane tickets. My agent has been harassing me for about a week now. Ok, true, I’m leaving in two days, but still, I don’t see the need to get so nervous. It’s not as if this was my first trip out of the country, I travel twice a year, dammit! She knows I am reliable, and that I will drop by as previously agreed…

Well, anyway… I will make a detour this morning, that way I’ll avoid being charged for negligence towards Mrs. Travel causing her death after a panic attack.

One last evening at the office (Oooh la ultima!), and I am off for my vacations!! Technically speaking, I know my stress level will only dim out when I’ll officially be on the beach, flip-flops on, a drink in my hand and the sun licking my skin… Licking… Flashbacks from yesterday night… *Sigh* Come on girl! If you want to go get your nice tan, you have to go through this last day. And it promises to be epic. I have found what I’ll do with the packet of wasabi I had left in the fridge after my last sushi feast. It isn’t arsenic, but I think my boss would be mad if I got rid of a colleague when we already barely get all the work done with our low staff. Next time, perhaps…

Daniel… Who’s going to get a gooood coffee today? Uh? Who?? If vengeance is a dish best served cold, it is also a beverage that is served hot… Really hot! *Sadistic laughter*

It is a never-ending day, but I expected it to be. Luckily, Fanny who knew this was my last day, has decided to come over to my cubicule to chitchat.
I learn, without special interest, that she is leaving for Spain next month with her new boyfriend (AKA the rich guy she met last week while doing parasailing, or something like that…), that the Australian government is trying to vote a new law forbidding to smoke in a 5 meters radius around any person under the age of 18 (note to self: Boycott of Australia taking effect… Now!) and that she has found a new lip gloss in a magazine which name I can’t remember (I really wonder why), that is available in only one color since it adapts to the lips it is applied on (one color fits all! Now I’ve seen everything)…

All that, mixed matched with the office’s gossip, which haven’t been very spicy lately. When you work on low staff, there is less energy left to spend on criticizing each other.

Energy, that’s something Fanny never runs out of. She is dizzying, but her company entertains me and all things considered, I like her. I almost bring to the table the conversation (the real, the one I really had, for real!!) with Gabriel to spark her off, but I just can’t get myself to do it. I know pertinently that if I so much as imply that Gabriel paid me the slightest attention, I will get myself interrogated as if I was a terrorist. And since good gossip is a rare thing at the office lately as I already mentionned, I will get all the attention instantly. My “story” will become the talk of the day around the coffee machine. I quickly calculate the risks versus the irresistible desire to make Fanny envy me one holy time in my life… And I decide to keep my mouth shut. Fanny and I aren’t the only two women visiting the clinic annually, and judging by Fanny’s reaction, it is safe to think that the others all kept a good (I am very cautious here, but I am pretty sure a superlative would be appropriate) souvenir of him.


Once my paper work classified and identified clearly for people who might have to go through my files during my leave, I take out my wasabi packet, and turn towards Fanny, finishing an endless anecdote about her theory on international petroleum companies’ strategies to rid us of all our money (when I was saying she was dizzying! I rest my case your honor!)

– Fanny, want to have a good laugh?

I could as well ask a dog if it’d be interested in a bone… Of course she wants to have a good laugh! I explain my dirty trick for Daniel on our way to the cafeteria. I also check, before getting the set up ready for my plan, that my about-to-be victim isn’t already sipping on a coffee. I only have one sauce envelope, and it would be plain stupid to waste it. To be sure that nothing falls through, I tell Daniel that we are on our way to get ourselves a cup, and I offer to get one for him… No refusal, the table is set.

Obviously, I have to explain to Fanny the reason for my mean trick, and even though I like the original version better, I tell her what the Swedish greetings that I’ve been telling Daniel every day for a while now really mean, and that I found out yesterday after doing a little research on the internet.

Fanny is stomping around me while I shake the little wooden coffee stick in the cup to mix the sauce in the rag water. I test the odor, there is a little something weird about it, but nothing weirder than what our coffee machine serves us already. I hesitate to take a sip and taste the special blend, but I tell myself it can’t be any less than disgusting. I’ll leave it to Daniel to give me his final opinion.
Unfortunaly, to be credible, Fanny and I have to sacrifice ourselves and buy a cup too, praying God to be in the good graces of the evil machine. Anyway, the odds are pretty high that half of the beverage will end up in the big ugly plant pot at the entry of our department, as usual.

Let’s get ready to rumble!

I have to keep my poker face when I get to Daniel’s office. I offer him one (maybe last) smile, hoping it doesn’t look fake, and leave the cup on his desk before turning around to join Fanny. He is picking it up, when I wish him a “good day”, and I cross my fingers.

As I enter the department, I can hear a muffled protest clearly coming from Daniel’s office, but when I turn around, I notice that he is not coming out to chase me holding a pen or a stapler. He is either dead, and if so, I’ll know it is worthless to go through the trouble of poisoning people with hard to access products, or he is putting a lid on it, already planning his sweet revenge. I sit at my desk, and write him a short but effective email;

Dear Daniel,
Making a lady say stupid things for weeks, just for the pleasure of laughing at her in her back, that too is of rather bad taste! 😉

“Send”! And now I have two weeks to let the dust settle. Daniel is a little quick-tempered, but he usually doesn’t hold a grudge. I don’t think I have anything to worry about when I come back, except maybe a thumbtack on my chair…

7 thoughts on “M – Part Fifteen

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