My day begins with me sitting in my tomb staring at the reflection of my disappointed face in my computer monitor, wishing for death. There are two inevitable and constants in this world. The first is that I will not be lucky enough to die today and therefore will be forced to finish my work day, and the second is that I will not get laid. I would probably feel better about myself if my sidekick's hot little momma had given me a no holds barred blowjob yesterday morning. But I guess in her sober state she decided that my cock is not to her liking. Sucks to be me. Actually, it doesn't suck to be me, it masturbates to be me.
Well, since I am not going to die or get some, I may as well delete my emails. I never read emails. I prefer to delete them before opening them. The way I figure it, if someone wanted to communicate something of importance to me they would take the time out of their busy lives to call me on the telephone. Now that I think about it, I rarely ever answer my phone either.
We are concerned that you were caught masturbating while watching porn on your computer. Deleting my emails, I come across one titled "Urgent." It's from the HR department. Why the hell would the HR department send me anything that was urgent? Oh well. To the deleted items folder it goes. It takes me one whole minute to delete almost one hundred emails. Why do people bother to send them to me? You would think they'd have come to the realization that I don't respond to emails. I have worked for this godforsaken company for over two years now and I have yet to answer a single email. Someone should have figured it out by now.
It amazes me that within one minute of arriving at my desk I have completed what I would consider to be a full day's work. Damn, I'm a work horse. As I rest my head on my desk and dream of better times, something unusual happens. My phone starts to ring. Who the hell would call me? It must be a wrong number. Maybe if I don't answer it, it will stop ringing. Sixty seven rings later I cautiously pick up the receiver. "Hello?"
It's Darcy, the HR Nazi. What the hell does she want with me? Darcy is your stereotypical bull dyke. She isn't into dudes so why the hell would she be calling a sexual stallion like me? Maybe she's decided to switch teams. I don't know why she would. Darcy gets more female ass in one week then all of the men on my floor combined. Before she has a chance to inform me why she was calling, I ask her to please hold. She has no problem with my request, so I place the phone down on my desk and grab the latest issue of Playboy magazine I picked up on the way to work and go take a crap. I am gone for almost an hour and to my amazement she still waiting on hold. This can't be good.
Darcy asks me to come up to her office on the top floor and have a chat about a confidential matter concerning my recent behavior. I am perplexed. My behavior is beyond reproach, and I am the model of the perfect employee. What could we possibly have to talk about? I make my way to the elevator and begin my journey to her office on the 37th floor. As I arrive at her floor the doors to the elevator open and Darcy is standing there waiting for me. She escorts me back to her office and closes the door. The tension in the room is palpable. Something's not right. I fear she may know of my rank of Professional, when it comes to slacking. I will not break. I will deny every accusation right up until the end. Darcy attempts to break the ice by saying, "Have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, a soda?"
My response is swift, "No thanks, I'm not thirsty, but I could go for a tuna sandwich."
She ignores my request and launches into her propaganda. "We at the company are concerned regarding your recent behavior. We are concerned that you were caught masturbating while watching pornographic matter on your computer. We feel that you may require special attention. I have spent the past two days reviewing your file and I would like to start off by apologizing to you for the oversight of your present condition."
My present condition? What the fuck is she talking about? The only condition I am aware of is the condition where I don't have a women sitting on my face 24/7. Darcy makes her way around the desk, crouches beside me and takes my hand. "I cannot believe that we dropped the ball. We're now ready to provide you with an environment that you will find more comfortable."
An environment I am more comfortable with? Are they going to relocate my cubicle to a strip club? There is no way this soul-sucking company is going to fulfill my dreams. I look her in the eyes and ask, "What the fuck are you talking about?"
I start sliding my hand into my pocket to calm down my monster chubby when my fantasy is rudely interrupted. Her response is delivered with the tone a mother would use talking to a 2-year-old child. "I'm sorry, I must be moving too quickly for you. We have reviewed your file and the tests that you took when you were hired. We have come to the conclusion that you scored at a mildly retarded level on all of your aptitude tests. We never should have placed you in a position of such pressure. It's not your fault that you acted out by touching yourself while at work. We are responsible for that and we are prepared to help you in any way we can."
She continues with her overly rehearsed special needs speech and I actually pay attention for all of five seconds. What tests is she basing this on? Oh yeah, now I remember. After I was hired I had a number of interviews with the company shrink and wrote a series of tests. I remember royally fucking with the shrink. He almost retired after speaking to me. And the tests? I made sure to choose the wrong answer for almost every question. I don't like to be analyzed. I try to figure out what this new status of mine will do for me then realize that Darcy is still talking.
"As you are aware, our company is a family, and as a family we take care of our own. We are now aware of your special circumstances and we are ready to provide you with a job that will be suited to someone of your special talents. Your workload will be reduced, your hours will be shortened, and we are prepared to increase your salary so you can afford to obtain any and all treatment that will help your situation. You have also been assigned a new parking stall closer to the front door so you do not get lost." She pats my head like I am her newly acquired lap dog.
This patronizing action starts to piss me off. The only way I can contain my rage is to think about the hand that is touching me. I can't stop thinking about where her hand has been. Darcy has a picture of her girlfriend on her desk and man, I would be proud to tap that sweet ass. I start sliding my hand into my pocket to calm down my monster chubby when my fantasy is rudely interrupted by Darcy. "Once again I would like to apologize on behalf of the company and we look forward to supporting you through this difficult time in your life. We will be there for you." She escorts me to her door and proceeds to wish me well.
Halfway down the hall I stop and turn to Darcy. I must clarify what she told me in her office. "So what you're saying is, it's okay if I watch porn and jerk off at my desk?"
Darcy gives me a puzzled look. "No, what we are saying is that we now understand why a person like you, someone who is special, would not be able to control the urge to perform that action while at work."
I look down at my feet for sometime before responding. "So what you're saying is, it's okay if I continue to watch porn and jerk off at my desk?" Darcy starts to talk as I quickly turn and walk away from her. I hear something that resembles, "No, we're not saying that at all," but what I choose to hear is, "Sure, you can jerk off at your desk. Jerk off all you want, and hey, why don't you steal the picture of my girlfriend off of my desk and use that as a warm up device. I don't mind. Spank it ‘til you can't spank it anymore." Before I round the corner to the elevator I yell down the hall, "Okay, so we are in agreement!"
The ride back down to my floor is one of the most enjoyable elevator rides of my life. For the first time in a long time I feel totally free. So free that I think I am going to take my pants off and work in my underwear for the rest of the day. I feel like the weight of the world has been lifted off of my shoulders. I feel Special.