This is my first Friends fic, so .. be gentle. lol
I'm not sure where this is going, so if you decide to read this crappy fic,
be patient :)
Of course, I don't own Chandler, or TULSA Hehe blah blah blah, you all know
that.
**
Chandler entered the room and tossed his suitcase down on the double bed closest to the door. It had a disgusting pink pattern that looked like there was barf splattered on the bedspread, but the light was still off. He flipped the off-white switch that was directly on his right and dim yellow light flashed across the two double beds, and across other small insigificant furniture.
Tulsa already sucked. He was in a shit hotel that the company paid for. Of course they were cheap and couldn't set him up with some sweet room service. Wee, he got the luxery room with the television set that was bolted to the dresser that was bolted to the floor. Like he'd want to steal any of this crap anyway. Who knew what people had been doing to it before.
He hated being away from New York. Away from all his friends, and Monica.. Why couldn't he have just been a typical normal New Yorker and drive cabs over there or something. Miss. Chanandler Bong the cabbie. He almost chuckled at that name. It sounded like something his dad would be called.
He didn't know why he had gotten the room with two beds. Was he expecting company? Oh Jesus no, maybe Bob from management was going to burst out of the washroom wearing only a white cotton towel. Mental pictures..
He walked into the small room between the barf looking beds and dropped down on the one without the suitcase on it, and leaned against the headboard, wrecking the carefully crisped bedspread. He took the remote that was actually chained to the night table and found and pressed the power button. Nothing.
"Uh?" He looked at the remote and then pressed power a few more times to the black television. Nothing still.
"You have got to be kidding me.." Chandler mumbled when he noticed the small brown box ontop of the tv. It was coin operated. What a piece of shit. He tossed the remote down on the bed on the left side of him, and loosened his navy blue tie.
Might as well go to sleep. He had a long day ahead.
**
"Come on people," Chandler, sleeves rolled up, tie choking his neck, stood in front of a presentation table trying to get his Tulsa co-workers' attention. They all sat around with their white mugs of coffee, cigarette in hand. Chandler had his cigarettes in his jacket pocket but hadn't had one yet, always hearing Monica's voice in his head. She would know. She *always* knew. Somehow.
"Hey Joe, what did I just say?" Chandler leaned over onto the table and stared at the mildly overweight 30 something man. Joe laughed at something and replied with, "I dunno man."
Chandler sighed and slumped down in his leather chair at the end of the table. Why bother. "This job blows.." he mumbled to himself and then fished in his jacket pocket that sat on the end of the chair for his unopened back of cigarettes. He'd had a breathmint after. He promised.
The room erupted in louder chatter and laughs, and one of the men on Chandler's right side leaned over on his elbows and whispered.
"Hey man," he 'psssted'. Chandler looked over at him with bored eyes. "You looking for some fun out here?" The guy looked excited and secretive at the same time.
"And what would that be.." Chandler took a drag off his cigarette feeling a little dizzy from the nicotine that he missed so badly. The guy looked around at the men and women at the table and then back to Chandler.
"I know this place.. where you can go in, tell them that their refrigerator needs fixing.. and they give you a nudie show. Free!" The guy started to actually giggle excitedly and Chandler raised his eyebrows and laughed sarcastically.
"I'm married," he told the giggling middle aged man.
He continued to giggle. "So am I."
Chandler rolled his eyes again and stubbed out the rest of his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, content with his nicotine fix for the time being. He pushed the chair back and stood up, pulling his jacket off the back of the chair and slipped it on.
The group silented then and turned to him, noticing his departure.
"And where are you going?" One of the blonde women asked, who was wearing a dark grey suit.
"Smoke break," he said and then left the room.
"But you can smoke.. in here-" Another woman called as he left.
He needed to call Monica.
**
**
Chandler entered the room and tossed his suitcase down on the double bed closest to the door. It had a disgusting pink pattern that looked like there was barf splattered on the bedspread, but the light was still off. He flipped the off-white switch that was directly on his right and dim yellow light flashed across the two double beds, and across other small insigificant furniture.
Tulsa already sucked. He was in a shit hotel that the company paid for. Of course they were cheap and couldn't set him up with some sweet room service. Wee, he got the luxery room with the television set that was bolted to the dresser that was bolted to the floor. Like he'd want to steal any of this crap anyway. Who knew what people had been doing to it before.
He hated being away from New York. Away from all his friends, and Monica.. Why couldn't he have just been a typical normal New Yorker and drive cabs over there or something. Miss. Chanandler Bong the cabbie. He almost chuckled at that name. It sounded like something his dad would be called.
He didn't know why he had gotten the room with two beds. Was he expecting company? Oh Jesus no, maybe Bob from management was going to burst out of the washroom wearing only a white cotton towel. Mental pictures..
He walked into the small room between the barf looking beds and dropped down on the one without the suitcase on it, and leaned against the headboard, wrecking the carefully crisped bedspread. He took the remote that was actually chained to the night table and found and pressed the power button. Nothing.
"Uh?" He looked at the remote and then pressed power a few more times to the black television. Nothing still.
"You have got to be kidding me.." Chandler mumbled when he noticed the small brown box ontop of the tv. It was coin operated. What a piece of shit. He tossed the remote down on the bed on the left side of him, and loosened his navy blue tie.
Might as well go to sleep. He had a long day ahead.
**
"Come on people," Chandler, sleeves rolled up, tie choking his neck, stood in front of a presentation table trying to get his Tulsa co-workers' attention. They all sat around with their white mugs of coffee, cigarette in hand. Chandler had his cigarettes in his jacket pocket but hadn't had one yet, always hearing Monica's voice in his head. She would know. She *always* knew. Somehow.
"Hey Joe, what did I just say?" Chandler leaned over onto the table and stared at the mildly overweight 30 something man. Joe laughed at something and replied with, "I dunno man."
Chandler sighed and slumped down in his leather chair at the end of the table. Why bother. "This job blows.." he mumbled to himself and then fished in his jacket pocket that sat on the end of the chair for his unopened back of cigarettes. He'd had a breathmint after. He promised.
The room erupted in louder chatter and laughs, and one of the men on Chandler's right side leaned over on his elbows and whispered.
"Hey man," he 'psssted'. Chandler looked over at him with bored eyes. "You looking for some fun out here?" The guy looked excited and secretive at the same time.
"And what would that be.." Chandler took a drag off his cigarette feeling a little dizzy from the nicotine that he missed so badly. The guy looked around at the men and women at the table and then back to Chandler.
"I know this place.. where you can go in, tell them that their refrigerator needs fixing.. and they give you a nudie show. Free!" The guy started to actually giggle excitedly and Chandler raised his eyebrows and laughed sarcastically.
"I'm married," he told the giggling middle aged man.
He continued to giggle. "So am I."
Chandler rolled his eyes again and stubbed out the rest of his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, content with his nicotine fix for the time being. He pushed the chair back and stood up, pulling his jacket off the back of the chair and slipped it on.
The group silented then and turned to him, noticing his departure.
"And where are you going?" One of the blonde women asked, who was wearing a dark grey suit.
"Smoke break," he said and then left the room.
"But you can smoke.. in here-" Another woman called as he left.
He needed to call Monica.
**
