**
Instead of just being sensible, and using the phone in the building, Chandler barely found his way back to his "Hotel" room and tossed off his jacket and stripped his tie off his neck. He was so bloody sick of those chokechains. He took his pack of cigarettes and didn't even notice that he had almost smoked half the pack already. He would remember to pop a whole *pack* of breathmints.
He collapsed once more on his unmade bed and put his arm over his eyes. Monica. That was right; he was going to call her.
Leaning on his right elbow, he leaned over and picked up the white phone, putting it to his left ear to hold it between his shoulder. He quickly dialled his home number not caring to think of the small time difference and if she would be home or not.
Nothing, not even a dialtone.
"Piece of crap," he said outloud and sat up more to look at the phone cradle that was beside him on the nightstand. He had to press '9' first to dial out.
He did so, and leaned back again and let it ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Either she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the bathtub, or she was at work. Of course she was at work. It was 2pm over there.
Chandler dropped the phone back on the cradle with his right hand and laid back again, his eyes closed.
He hated this. All of this. Being here, and everybody being over there. Having to live in a motel for weeks at a time. Having to be sliced out of the social circle back in New York. Missing *everything*.
Being alone. He hated it so much. He'd been alone too many times to count throughout his life. And when he finally found the absolute love of his life, he had to leave again, to be alone. It was some curse that was always on his shoulders making sure he wasn't happy. He made decent money, but no money was worth this.
The phone's shrill ring beside him made his eyes snap open. Monica?
He leaned up on his right elbow again and lifted the phone to his ear.
"Bing! Man what are you doing?"
It wasn't Monica. It was some.. guy.
Before he could even say one word, the guy was talking again.
"It's Glenn, man!"
Glenn?
"Dude, from work!"
Ahh. The married guy with his Tulsa 'women'.
"Yeah?" Chandler asked tiredly wondering why the hell this guy was calling him, or how he had even know where he was staying.
"Dude, I'm coming to get you later, and I'm not taking no for an answer!" The guy almost yelled in his ear, and Chandler took the phone away from his ear a few inches.
"Uhh, I'd rather just stay here-"
"Duuuuude, come on. You're coming out. I'm going to make you. See you in a few hours!"
And the obnoxious man hung up.
Chandler sighed and dropped the phone back onto the nightstand. How fastasmagorical. Glenn the "party animal" was going to drag him out somewhere. Well over his dead body.
He reached for his cigarettes that were on the night table and lit one up in the non-smoking room. He didn't care, of course. He'd smoke where ever he damn well pleased.
**
Not exactly taking Glenn's threat seriously to drag him away, Chandler fell asleep - with a cigarette in his hand no less. He woke up to a *banging* at the door, and for a minute didn't know where he was. He always knew where he was at home.
The first thing he looked at was the small alarm clock on the nightstand to see that it was nearing 8 pm. How could he have slept that long?
The second thing he noticed was the cigarette butt that had rolled down towards his body on his right side and the trail of smudged ashes that followed.
Ignoring the small mess for now, Chandler stood up wearily, still wearing his glasses and made it to the door, swinging it open.
Glenn stood there, the same man from work all right, dressed in a ratty black business suit, sporting a red tie that was much too short for his bulging stomach.
"Bing!" The guy practically shouted and beamed, his hands in his dress pant pockets.
"Hi Glenn," Chandler said boredly and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He sure wasn't going anywhere with this freak. He just wanted to go home, and he intended to be bored and bitter until that wish came true.
"Come on Bing, they're all waiting for us!" Glenn shouted again.
"Who is waiting for us?" Chandler inquired, not opening the door any wider then the foot and half he had just to see this guy.
"The women man, the women!" Glenn licked his lips and his hands came out of his pockets and they were clasped together at chest level. He looked as if he was about to devour a 20 lb turkey.
"I told you, I'm married.. I'm not into that-"
"Come on maaaan!! You only live once!" He took Chandler's arm and pulled him out the door. Chandler stumbled and regained his balance.
"I really don't think-"
"You're coming dude, and that's the end of that!" Beamed Glenn as he pulled the Motel door shut.
"But-"
"No buts dude!"
"Glenn-"
"Dude!"
"I left my key card in there."
**
Instead of just being sensible, and using the phone in the building, Chandler barely found his way back to his "Hotel" room and tossed off his jacket and stripped his tie off his neck. He was so bloody sick of those chokechains. He took his pack of cigarettes and didn't even notice that he had almost smoked half the pack already. He would remember to pop a whole *pack* of breathmints.
He collapsed once more on his unmade bed and put his arm over his eyes. Monica. That was right; he was going to call her.
Leaning on his right elbow, he leaned over and picked up the white phone, putting it to his left ear to hold it between his shoulder. He quickly dialled his home number not caring to think of the small time difference and if she would be home or not.
Nothing, not even a dialtone.
"Piece of crap," he said outloud and sat up more to look at the phone cradle that was beside him on the nightstand. He had to press '9' first to dial out.
He did so, and leaned back again and let it ring.
And ring.
And ring.
Either she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the bathtub, or she was at work. Of course she was at work. It was 2pm over there.
Chandler dropped the phone back on the cradle with his right hand and laid back again, his eyes closed.
He hated this. All of this. Being here, and everybody being over there. Having to live in a motel for weeks at a time. Having to be sliced out of the social circle back in New York. Missing *everything*.
Being alone. He hated it so much. He'd been alone too many times to count throughout his life. And when he finally found the absolute love of his life, he had to leave again, to be alone. It was some curse that was always on his shoulders making sure he wasn't happy. He made decent money, but no money was worth this.
The phone's shrill ring beside him made his eyes snap open. Monica?
He leaned up on his right elbow again and lifted the phone to his ear.
"Bing! Man what are you doing?"
It wasn't Monica. It was some.. guy.
Before he could even say one word, the guy was talking again.
"It's Glenn, man!"
Glenn?
"Dude, from work!"
Ahh. The married guy with his Tulsa 'women'.
"Yeah?" Chandler asked tiredly wondering why the hell this guy was calling him, or how he had even know where he was staying.
"Dude, I'm coming to get you later, and I'm not taking no for an answer!" The guy almost yelled in his ear, and Chandler took the phone away from his ear a few inches.
"Uhh, I'd rather just stay here-"
"Duuuuude, come on. You're coming out. I'm going to make you. See you in a few hours!"
And the obnoxious man hung up.
Chandler sighed and dropped the phone back onto the nightstand. How fastasmagorical. Glenn the "party animal" was going to drag him out somewhere. Well over his dead body.
He reached for his cigarettes that were on the night table and lit one up in the non-smoking room. He didn't care, of course. He'd smoke where ever he damn well pleased.
**
Not exactly taking Glenn's threat seriously to drag him away, Chandler fell asleep - with a cigarette in his hand no less. He woke up to a *banging* at the door, and for a minute didn't know where he was. He always knew where he was at home.
The first thing he looked at was the small alarm clock on the nightstand to see that it was nearing 8 pm. How could he have slept that long?
The second thing he noticed was the cigarette butt that had rolled down towards his body on his right side and the trail of smudged ashes that followed.
Ignoring the small mess for now, Chandler stood up wearily, still wearing his glasses and made it to the door, swinging it open.
Glenn stood there, the same man from work all right, dressed in a ratty black business suit, sporting a red tie that was much too short for his bulging stomach.
"Bing!" The guy practically shouted and beamed, his hands in his dress pant pockets.
"Hi Glenn," Chandler said boredly and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He sure wasn't going anywhere with this freak. He just wanted to go home, and he intended to be bored and bitter until that wish came true.
"Come on Bing, they're all waiting for us!" Glenn shouted again.
"Who is waiting for us?" Chandler inquired, not opening the door any wider then the foot and half he had just to see this guy.
"The women man, the women!" Glenn licked his lips and his hands came out of his pockets and they were clasped together at chest level. He looked as if he was about to devour a 20 lb turkey.
"I told you, I'm married.. I'm not into that-"
"Come on maaaan!! You only live once!" He took Chandler's arm and pulled him out the door. Chandler stumbled and regained his balance.
"I really don't think-"
"You're coming dude, and that's the end of that!" Beamed Glenn as he pulled the Motel door shut.
"But-"
"No buts dude!"
"Glenn-"
"Dude!"
"I left my key card in there."
**
