2
Two security guards sat in the break room, waiting for their day to begin. It was still ten minutes until the shift change and they had nothing better to do than drink some coffee and have a doughnut. High up on one wall a clock ticked loudly. The handful of scientists in the room all sat silently, reading or poring over detailed notes.
Sitting on an ugly orange sofa apart from the more learned individuals, the blue-clad pair stared at the progressing hands of the timepiece, begging them to slow. Blue-Shift was about to begin, and neither were particularly eager.
"I'm going to do it today."
"Do what?"
"Ask her out."
"Why? You don't have a chance."
"You're such a downer, Calhoun. You know, you could use a girlfriend yourself."
The man chuckled and unconsciously patted his more than abundant belly. "I already have a wife."
"Doesn't stop a lot of guys."
Powder from a doughnut dusted his thick lips as he shook his head. "Man, one woman is more than enough for me. You get one and then tell me how ready you are to deal with two." Calhoun was the older of the pair and usually considered the wiser.
"Oh boy am I ready. You think you could ever get the two to...you know...?"
"No. You couldn't. Believe me, one is enough." He put down the few remaining bites of pastry, licked his fingers, and looked his partner in the eye. Calhoun had worked at Black Mesa for nearly ten years now and knew the place about as well as he knew women; that is, not nearly as well as he imagined. Still, he would be damned if this insolent little pup didn't respect his experience on either front.
"Alright Ricks, look at it this way. Do you really want to put up with two birthdays, two anniversaries, two mood-swings, and two, um, special times of the month?"
Ricks was obliged to shrug. "Ok, good point." This was only the young man's third month at Black Mesa, but he had shown so much promise that he had already been promoted to the highest clearance and highest responsibility: Blue-Shift.
It had taken Calhoun almost seven years to reach the same position. Obviously, this significant time span was a matter of great contention between the two, but they still got along well enough. They had to. In Blue-Shift anything could happen at anytime, with highly classified, highly dangerous tests going on. You had to be able to rely on your partner.
"Well, I think I will just stick with one for now."
"Easier said than done. You have to get that one first."
"Watch and learn, old man. You may be more experienced, but you're also fatter."
Sucking in his stomach, Calhoun scowled. "What the hell does that mean?"
Ricks rose to his feet and ran a hand through his neatly-gelled hair. "That means the ladies can't turn down a specimen like me."
"Alright, chicken legs, let's see what you've got."
The man nodded and started to walk to the opposite end of the room where his quarry sat, reading a newspaper.
He checked his breath by quickly exhaling into his hand, then readjusted his shiny black torso armor. Ricks had even polished it, just for today. Pulling a chair away from the table, he casually rested one foot on the seat, leaning his elbow on his knee. He stroked his chin just a little and flashed the grandest smile he could muster. "Hey there."
No response from the woman. She didn't speak and didn't move the paper, which was rudely blocking her face.
"I said hey there." The smile was still glued in place, leaving him to look like a buffoon. Or a clown. Either way, things weren't quite up to par yet.
"So you did."
Ricks wasn't flustered, but he was getting a little annoyed that she wouldn't even let him see her face. Time to pull out the big guns, he reasoned. The lines that were tried and true, from all posterity. "So, baby, what's your sign?"
"No Trespassing."
"Oh...wow." The smile did falter, if for only a moment.
From where he was sitting, Calhoun couldn't hear the words, but the message was clear enough. He rubbed his forehead and grimaced for his foolish young friend. This wasn't going to be pretty.
In an ashtray at the woman's hand, a cigarette sat, listlessly spouting a thin trail of smoke.
The security guard put on his most patronizing, Smoky the Bear, loveable voice and said, "You know, smoking is bad for your health."
"You're bad for my health."
Ricks was utterly stumped. What do you do with a woman like this? Only one notion came to mind. He started to turn away and muttered, "Bitch," under his breath.
Finally, this brought the newspaper down.
He turned back, staring into a startling set of violet eyes. They were set wide in a perfectly chiseled face and beamed with exuberant energy.
"Is that the best you can do?"
"Well...um...I don't know." His mouth was full of cotton balls and his brain felt like it had taken the day off, maybe heading into the country for a picnic. Regardless of where it was, it certainly wasn't with the poor man when he needed it most.
The woman was absolutely stunning. She could have been a model or an actress or even a stripper. Ricks' mouth was moving, but the words faltered. "How about, you know, we could go out sometime...I was just thinking."
"Don't bother. It doesn't suit you." The newspaper wall went back between them.
Dragging his butchered pride behind him, the security guard returned to the sanctuary of the sofa. "It's my fault. I never should have tried."
Calhoun nodded. "Finally, you're speaking like you've got a brain cell or two."
"No, I mean, I was so blind. I should have figured it from the very beginning...she's a lesbo."
The elder man stifled a boisterous laugh. "That's it, Romeo."
"What else could it be?"
"No, no you're right. If she just preferred hotdogs over tacos, your frank would be first on her list."
Ricks shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about? No wonder you're fat. All you think about is food."
Ignoring the comment, Calhoun prodded his partner to get up. "Come on, we've got to get to our station. There's supposed to be some big test today."
Still sulking about his bitter rejection, the security guard drooled with sarcasm. "Oh well, let's just run right over there now. Sheesh, what was I thinking? Black Mesa is going to be the rocking place to be today!"
"Just shut your mouth and walk."
"Whatever man."
As they passed by the female scientist, Calhoun corrected himself. "Sorry Ricks, I mean get your foot out of your mouth, then shut it."
The young man gave his associate a favorite hand gesture, then led the way to their security station, bracing himself for another painfully dull day.
Two security guards sat in the break room, waiting for their day to begin. It was still ten minutes until the shift change and they had nothing better to do than drink some coffee and have a doughnut. High up on one wall a clock ticked loudly. The handful of scientists in the room all sat silently, reading or poring over detailed notes.
Sitting on an ugly orange sofa apart from the more learned individuals, the blue-clad pair stared at the progressing hands of the timepiece, begging them to slow. Blue-Shift was about to begin, and neither were particularly eager.
"I'm going to do it today."
"Do what?"
"Ask her out."
"Why? You don't have a chance."
"You're such a downer, Calhoun. You know, you could use a girlfriend yourself."
The man chuckled and unconsciously patted his more than abundant belly. "I already have a wife."
"Doesn't stop a lot of guys."
Powder from a doughnut dusted his thick lips as he shook his head. "Man, one woman is more than enough for me. You get one and then tell me how ready you are to deal with two." Calhoun was the older of the pair and usually considered the wiser.
"Oh boy am I ready. You think you could ever get the two to...you know...?"
"No. You couldn't. Believe me, one is enough." He put down the few remaining bites of pastry, licked his fingers, and looked his partner in the eye. Calhoun had worked at Black Mesa for nearly ten years now and knew the place about as well as he knew women; that is, not nearly as well as he imagined. Still, he would be damned if this insolent little pup didn't respect his experience on either front.
"Alright Ricks, look at it this way. Do you really want to put up with two birthdays, two anniversaries, two mood-swings, and two, um, special times of the month?"
Ricks was obliged to shrug. "Ok, good point." This was only the young man's third month at Black Mesa, but he had shown so much promise that he had already been promoted to the highest clearance and highest responsibility: Blue-Shift.
It had taken Calhoun almost seven years to reach the same position. Obviously, this significant time span was a matter of great contention between the two, but they still got along well enough. They had to. In Blue-Shift anything could happen at anytime, with highly classified, highly dangerous tests going on. You had to be able to rely on your partner.
"Well, I think I will just stick with one for now."
"Easier said than done. You have to get that one first."
"Watch and learn, old man. You may be more experienced, but you're also fatter."
Sucking in his stomach, Calhoun scowled. "What the hell does that mean?"
Ricks rose to his feet and ran a hand through his neatly-gelled hair. "That means the ladies can't turn down a specimen like me."
"Alright, chicken legs, let's see what you've got."
The man nodded and started to walk to the opposite end of the room where his quarry sat, reading a newspaper.
He checked his breath by quickly exhaling into his hand, then readjusted his shiny black torso armor. Ricks had even polished it, just for today. Pulling a chair away from the table, he casually rested one foot on the seat, leaning his elbow on his knee. He stroked his chin just a little and flashed the grandest smile he could muster. "Hey there."
No response from the woman. She didn't speak and didn't move the paper, which was rudely blocking her face.
"I said hey there." The smile was still glued in place, leaving him to look like a buffoon. Or a clown. Either way, things weren't quite up to par yet.
"So you did."
Ricks wasn't flustered, but he was getting a little annoyed that she wouldn't even let him see her face. Time to pull out the big guns, he reasoned. The lines that were tried and true, from all posterity. "So, baby, what's your sign?"
"No Trespassing."
"Oh...wow." The smile did falter, if for only a moment.
From where he was sitting, Calhoun couldn't hear the words, but the message was clear enough. He rubbed his forehead and grimaced for his foolish young friend. This wasn't going to be pretty.
In an ashtray at the woman's hand, a cigarette sat, listlessly spouting a thin trail of smoke.
The security guard put on his most patronizing, Smoky the Bear, loveable voice and said, "You know, smoking is bad for your health."
"You're bad for my health."
Ricks was utterly stumped. What do you do with a woman like this? Only one notion came to mind. He started to turn away and muttered, "Bitch," under his breath.
Finally, this brought the newspaper down.
He turned back, staring into a startling set of violet eyes. They were set wide in a perfectly chiseled face and beamed with exuberant energy.
"Is that the best you can do?"
"Well...um...I don't know." His mouth was full of cotton balls and his brain felt like it had taken the day off, maybe heading into the country for a picnic. Regardless of where it was, it certainly wasn't with the poor man when he needed it most.
The woman was absolutely stunning. She could have been a model or an actress or even a stripper. Ricks' mouth was moving, but the words faltered. "How about, you know, we could go out sometime...I was just thinking."
"Don't bother. It doesn't suit you." The newspaper wall went back between them.
Dragging his butchered pride behind him, the security guard returned to the sanctuary of the sofa. "It's my fault. I never should have tried."
Calhoun nodded. "Finally, you're speaking like you've got a brain cell or two."
"No, I mean, I was so blind. I should have figured it from the very beginning...she's a lesbo."
The elder man stifled a boisterous laugh. "That's it, Romeo."
"What else could it be?"
"No, no you're right. If she just preferred hotdogs over tacos, your frank would be first on her list."
Ricks shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about? No wonder you're fat. All you think about is food."
Ignoring the comment, Calhoun prodded his partner to get up. "Come on, we've got to get to our station. There's supposed to be some big test today."
Still sulking about his bitter rejection, the security guard drooled with sarcasm. "Oh well, let's just run right over there now. Sheesh, what was I thinking? Black Mesa is going to be the rocking place to be today!"
"Just shut your mouth and walk."
"Whatever man."
As they passed by the female scientist, Calhoun corrected himself. "Sorry Ricks, I mean get your foot out of your mouth, then shut it."
The young man gave his associate a favorite hand gesture, then led the way to their security station, bracing himself for another painfully dull day.