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sick-days-monster
9.15am: Mike enters my cube. He sits on my desk. He shows me a picture of his daughter. He calls her “My little angel.”

She looks around 17 and has a cigarette hanging from her mouth.

9.30am: Mike’s still talking about his daughter. Along with being his little angel, she’s also whip smart, funny as hell, a high school dropout and pregnant.

9.41am: Mike leaves. Apparently he has to take an El Grande Dumpo.

9.57am: I hear Mike yelling “Don’t go in the men’s room! I just dropped an El Dumpo Supremo!”

10.15am: Mike asks me if I want to go “power drinking” with him tonight.

I politely decline. We have the following conversation.

Mike: Come on!

Me: No thanks.

Mike: Come on!!

Me: Maybe some other –

Mike: Come on!!!

Me: Not tonight.

Mike: Puss-y!!!!

11.16am: Mike enters my cube. He tells me he used to do well with the ladies. He spares me no details.

11.58am: Mike says he’s going to get his coat and then “we’re having lunch together.”

12.pm – 1pm: I hide behind the bank of photocopiers and eat my lunch. No sign of Mike.

1.42pm: I watch Mike steal a handful of change from the coffee kitty. He sticks the coins in his pocket, scratches his balls and laughs.

2.57pm: Mike says, “There you are. Come on. I’m going for a smoke break.”

3.19pm: I don’t smoke. But now I smell like I do.

4.00pm: Email from Mike. It says we’ll start tonight’s power drinking at a place called Strippy McNudes.

4.43pm: I leave early. As the elevator doors close behind me, I hear Mike shout out “Puss-y!”

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