Getting Head at Work

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I locked the heavy utility door, super glad to be done with checks on all seven buildings. Time to head back to the main office. I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked for any messages or emails, but none were important enough to slow me down. I shoved my phone back into my jeans and hopped onto my golf cart. Today had been a particularly tough day, a slow leak that took way too long to fix, a majorly clogged nasty toilet, and a full mouse trap that stunk worse than dead things. The worst issue though had been a broken off lightbulb on a twelve-foot-high ceiling, and my ladder had been missing for a full week. I suspected Norman stole it, the bastard.

I pulled my phone back out and texted him. Fucker had better give it back. He’s made my life miserable. It was almost time to head home, and I couldn’t wait to douse a beer down my throat followed by a pile of leftover meatloaf my neighbor Marlene had dropped off yesterday. I had her so close to coming in this last time. I sighed and shook my head. A chuckle bubbled up from deep in my gut. That woman was hornier than a teenage boy on steroids. And I’m ready to oblige if it weren’t for her stick in the mud husband. I told her like fifteen times I’d never tell, but she’s nervous. And I get it. But some day I’ll snag her in the right mood and bring her to pound town.