Friday Morning; I am exhausted and my body aches but I manage to get out of bed. I mean, it’s not like a have a choice… yet. I do my usual morning ritual and leave the house at 7:26am. I have been leaving the house late all week. I have gotten to the point where I can tell anyone at work “what?!?, you aint my daddy!” – and if I can’t tell them at least I can think it. The train ride was quite pleasant. The 3 train wasn’t crowded. It hasn’t been so for a week. I think public school kids are on some kind of vacation. Anyhow, I arrive at work and it’s quiet. I’m not too surprised; it’s Friday and the weather is great, if anything I should be in bed. I settle in at my cube and I check my cell phone. I have a message from Compadre and it says, “if anyone asks, I’ll be in @ 9:30”. Argh, loser! I sighed. There is no use wasting my minutes replying – even though I have unlimited text messages (minus messages I send to naija). I know what the drill is; he went out last night and got mega wasted. It’s not the first time. I imagine him walking in @ 9:30 oozing of Jack & Diet Coke and maybe Vodka Soda ‘cause they are both low in calories – trim boys don’t do beer.
Of course I was right. At 9:30 Compadre walks in and says good morning. He is so hung over that it would make no difference if he walked in with a bottle in his hands. I’m glad he is in. He makes my day sober or not. He slides right next to me and places his arm next to mine. “Pink” he says. Pink?! I’m confused. He noticed and said “we are both wearing pink, we coordinated”. I find this odd as I have a white shirt on so I imagine that the hangover had adverse effects. “It has a tint of pink!” he said, in a desperate attempt to make me see that he is not crazy but there was no point; my mind was made up. Compadre slides back to his cube and I hear SirReal, “Why do you have tissue paper plugged in your nose? You look retarded”, SirReal had managed to make his way over to my cube unnoticed. On a good day I would have spotted in on my hyper sensitive motion detector mirror. It is such a fantastic tool. Because of my mirror I know to minimize certain “inappropriate windows”. “The tissue has menthol in it and I have a running nose”, I replied, trying to justify my silly antic – I did look silly. “You are such a loser”, he replies and I followed suite calling him a “fat kid”; it works all the time.
Enough of the slacking! Lets see if I can get some serious work done today.