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iry (6/13/09 7:04 a.m.): Hello.

over200 (6/13/09 7:07 a.m.) : My dear. It's been so long. What on earth has kept you away from me?

iry (6/13/09 7:08 a.m.): Work, I suppose. My dick boss assigned me this huge file.

over200 (6/13/09 7:09 a.m.) : I'm very sorry to hear that, darling. Maybe I could make him pay if I could only meet you.

iry (6/13/09 7:11 a.m.): Hun, please don't bring that up now. I have to leave for work now. I love you, sweet. See you tonight?

over200 (6/13/09 7:12 a.m.): Of course. I have to head off, too. I love you.

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[ iry has logged off ]


I closed my browser, grabbed my purse and headed out the door. I was already late for work. I had spent yet another night and mostly morning talking to my love. I didn't even know his name, and yet, we were destined together. I work at an unemployment agency and clients started coming in around 6:30 a.m. Of course these were the clients that actually desired to find a job. The ones that could care less and just want to dodge our little visits roll in around noon. Most of the time, I like to get there to talk to the ones who want to get a job; it's much more pleasant. Work was pleasant to me. I loved my colleagues. It was nice location, good pay. Fair breaks. But my boss, oh my boss. The devil himself. We only actually see him once everyday, if we're lucky. In the morning, we have a meeting to discuss the plan for today, but ever since a couple months ago, he's been absent at every one. He drags in around 8, coffee clenched in his fist, with some lame excuse: traffic, overslept, a little rendezvous with the misses. Believe me, we've heard it all. And if you're really lucky, you can see him twice in one day. Those days are a whirlwind. He'll call your "sweet little self" (considering he only hires women) into his office, ask you to do some piddly little thing, "accidentally" drop his pencil so he can look down your shirt, and then call you back in after you've done his errand perfectly to tell you how much you sucked at it. Luckily, he doesn't check my out, or try to look down my shirt. Never has. I've just seen him do it to the other poor, naïve saps I work with. Oh, I'm sure he thinks I'm plenty beautiful, he just knows that I'm not afraid to report him. And we have a personal vendetta. Being a faithful member of N.O.W., he knows I won't take his sexist crap.

So, today, as usual, he comes trapsing in with an (probably fake) apologetic look on his face and his tie slightly dissheveled. He scurries around the glass walls surrounding our meeting room and pushes the door open. I roll my eyes as his very unique welcome wagon starts up. "Hello, I'm so very sorry I'm late. I overslept, and then there was traffic, blah, blah, McBlah." I start starring the names on my client list whom I would like to work with today, followed by the ones I have to work with. I look up at our receptionist table and see one of my clients. A particularly snippy one; if I don't call her back within 10 minutes of her arrival, she throws a tantrum: knocking over lamps, threatening to call her lawyer, etc. We didn't mind this at first, but then some of our other clients started to leave as well. Ever since, I've been good about getting her back before the flames start to rush to her eyes. But this morning, the boss was even later than usual to our meeting and we wouldn't be done for about a half hour. So, I decided. It was either sit here and listen to nothing, or avoid a disaster. I stood up and sashayed my pencil skirt and brown hose behind out of there. Didn't say anything, didn't look back, just left. And I made sure that he saw me.

It was about an hour later that I was called into his office. But he didn't dare call me his sweetie or sugar when he buzzed me in there. I stood up and excused myself from the client I was with. His office was the only one without clear glass walls, you can only guess why. Not only does he check out the girls that work here, his wife comes in at around two everyday to "drop off his lunch". Please, she's here for over an hour. I've only asked her what took so long once, and she said, "we just got to talking." My ass. Like who would believe that. His wife is one of those trophy girls. Former beauty queen, always on vacation, Coach bag and Prada shoes kind of broad. I think he married her for her money. Although we make good pay here, he acts like we're border line poverty. I'd say we're middle class. Just about 21 thou. a year. I think that's pretty good. But apparently, that isn't good enough for some people. Anyway, when I walk into his office, his wife is buttoning her shirt up, and, of course, there's a brown paper sack sitting on the desk. I roll my eyes and lean against the wall. She kisses him on the cheek and leaves. She smiles and nods at me on the way out, but I ignore her. He sits up in his chair and sighs, like he's about to tell me someone died or something.

"So, I suppose you don't think our meetings matter?" He plays with the pen on his desk and stares at me.

"Do you think they matter?"

His eyes widen. "Well yes, I do. And I am running a business here. I would hope that everyone else in the building appreciates what we do just as much as I. But I would like to hear your reasoning for leaving a very necessary meeting." I stop leaning on the wall and sit down in the chair across from his desk.

"Mrs. Kim was waiting. If I don't attend to her, we lose business." He sits quiet for a minute.

"The fact that you had the audacity to just get up and leave…is such a…turn on. Very hot.." He whispers through his teeth. I stand up.

"Don't even try that." I cross my arms.

"Come on, you're not the least bit attracted to me..?" I back up as he stands up from his desk.

"No." I purse my lips at him. He slinks closer and wraps his arm around my waist.

"Not at all..?"

I slap him.

"Don't touch me!"

He smirks.

"Fiesty…I like that." He doesn't stop. Before I know what I'm doing, I grab his balls, lean close and whisper in his ear,

"If you want to be able to have a kid someday, you'll never lay your hands on my again." He squeaks and lets go. As he heads back to his desk as though nothing happened, he firmly states, "Very well. Back to work. Busy, busy day."


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iry (6/13/09 10:12 p.m.): Oh, it's been such a hard day. My boss is so stupid.

over200 (6/13/09 10:13 p.m.): What did he do?

iry(6/13/09 10:14 p.m.): He tried to feel me up!

over200(6/13/09 10:14 p.m.): Hun! Why won't you let me come down there and get him back!?

iry(6/13/09 10:15 p.m.): I can handle it…I can handle it.