SOCIO-ECONOMIC RAMIFICATION: CHAMPAGNE IN A PAPER CUP

Certain · 04-03-2014, 04:07 AM

Jerry woke at 6:10 a.m. day by day
and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shave his grays.
Jerry moved at snail's pace at first but soon found speed with shower's help
and kissed Sue and powered out to work where he would drown himself.
The paper-pushing passed the time, he'd say, and Jerry didn't mind the laze
of every stitch of dry malaise if he could head off by 5 most days.

It's 3:42 p.m. Friday, and Doris stops by Jerry's cubicle.
"Jerry, Mr. Roosevelt would like to discuss some news with you.
Please go to his office as soon as possible. Thank you, though, hun."
Doris had a Midwestern perkiness and breasts to hang your coat on.
So Jerry stopped on his latest report and made the trek to Office 6,
the biggest on the floor, but still three down from top execs.
Mr. Roosevelt was on the phone but hung it up when Jerry arrived,
and ushered Jerry in with a silent sweep of his arm from left to his right.
"Jerry, thank you for coming, and so promptly, I might add."
With the gaudy office light, Mr. Roosevelt's eyes were coffee in a wine glass.
"You've been with us for 16 years and know this company back and forth,
and in that time, you've handled business with a certain tactful course.
But now, in last resort, I have to do what — crap, ol' sport —
I don't want to have to do this, but it's time you pack up fort."
No laugh. No snort.

Jerry stared at the floor for minutes, contemplating mortgage payments
and Terrence's tuition. And that new roof. And, of course, his parents.
They would need support and caring soon. Instead, defaults would come.
Jerry stared at the 12-foot window and imagined a vaulting jump.

Instead, Jerry put his pictures in boxes and gave away his stash of pens.
Jerry said good-bye to Nancy and George but mostly lacked the head
to offer fake farewells to people Jerry didn't really like or dislike.
So he stacked his books and bobble heads and hiked to his ride.
The Camry felt cramped as Jerry jammed his stuff in the back.
There's that muffler again. There's that sputter on gas.

Jerry pulled into his driveway and sat in the car for a few.
trying to pull together the words to explain this garbage to Sue.
When he walked in, the lights flickered on. "SURPRISE!" in a great erupt.
The banner said, "HERE'S TO THE NEXT 50!" in colorful display above.
And Susan came to him first, with a kiss and champagne in a paper cup.

04-03-2014, 04:07 AM	#1
Certain Mad fucking dangerous. Join Date: Jul 2013 Posts: 12,066 Battle Record: 40-19 Champed - AOWL Season 3 - Art of Writing League (2x) Rep Power: 85899406	SOCIO-ECONOMIC RAMIFICATION: CHAMPAGNE IN A PAPER CUP Jerry woke at 6:10 a.m. day by day and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shave his grays. Jerry moved at snail's pace at first but soon found speed with shower's help and kissed Sue and powered out to work where he would drown himself. The paper-pushing passed the time, he'd say, and Jerry didn't mind the laze of every stitch of dry malaise if he could head off by 5 most days. It's 3:42 p.m. Friday, and Doris stops by Jerry's cubicle. "Jerry, Mr. Roosevelt would like to discuss some news with you. Please go to his office as soon as possible. Thank you, though, hun." Doris had a Midwestern perkiness and breasts to hang your coat on. So Jerry stopped on his latest report and made the trek to Office 6, the biggest on the floor, but still three down from top execs. Mr. Roosevelt was on the phone but hung it up when Jerry arrived, and ushered Jerry in with a silent sweep of his arm from left to his right. "Jerry, thank you for coming, and so promptly, I might add." With the gaudy office light, Mr. Roosevelt's eyes were coffee in a wine glass. "You've been with us for 16 years and know this company back and forth, and in that time, you've handled business with a certain tactful course. But now, in last resort, I have to do what — crap, ol' sport — I don't want to have to do this, but it's time you pack up fort." No laugh. No snort. Jerry stared at the floor for minutes, contemplating mortgage payments and Terrence's tuition. And that new roof. And, of course, his parents. They would need support and caring soon. Instead, defaults would come. Jerry stared at the 12-foot window and imagined a vaulting jump. Instead, Jerry put his pictures in boxes and gave away his stash of pens. Jerry said good-bye to Nancy and George but mostly lacked the head to offer fake farewells to people Jerry didn't really like or dislike. So he stacked his books and bobble heads and hiked to his ride. The Camry felt cramped as Jerry jammed his stuff in the back. There's that muffler again. There's that sputter on gas. Jerry pulled into his driveway and sat in the car for a few. trying to pull together the words to explain this garbage to Sue. When he walked in, the lights flickered on. "SURPRISE!" in a great erupt. The banner said, "HERE'S TO THE NEXT 50!" in colorful display above. And Susan came to him first, with a kiss and champagne in a paper cup.