His excitement is evident, especially when he stands. I swear to God, the dweeb has pep in his step even as he dumps all the little houses onto the board and scoops it up from the bottom, teetering.
“Don’t get your hopes up—you probably won’t learn anything from me.”
“That’s alright. We all start somewhere.”
Such optimism.
I wish I felt it too.
2
Brooks
We’re seated in a semicircle, lounging in big, comfortable chairs, straight from work and ready to triumph and brag about what cool shit we did at our jobs today, discuss our weekends, and toss back a few.
Truthfully, though? They’re not bragging; I am.
Seems I’m the only lucky bastard who’s in the mood to boast about his job. Not only have I been granted a promotion, a bit of recognition, I somehow seem to have landed one of the interns as a quasi-assistant.
Fine. Technically, Taylor isn’t my assistant, but I’m able to use him as a resource, and therefore, my friends are jealous.
Goddamn, I really am one spoiled son of a bitch.
We order a round of shots.
Then another.
Then another.
“You know what I can’t stand? Listening to you gloat about your great new job for an entire hour straight. It’s annoying,” says Phillip, one of my best friends, as he splits a roasted pecan in half.
Blaine, my other sidekick, nods. “Yeah, quit the bragging and tell us something about you that isn’t amazing for once in your damn life. No one wants to sit and listen to how happy you are.”
“Something nice and shitty to make us feel better about ourselves.”
“You know what I can’t stand?” I begin rather abruptly, already a bit drunk.
Blaine rubs his hands together with glee. “What?”
“Couples.”
Blaine chuckles, motioning for the server. “Couples of what?”
“Couples—people.” I wave my hand around in the air, pantomiming my irritation. “On the street, in restaurants. Getting freaking coffee in the morning. Hogging all the space and stealing my air.”
When both my friends laugh as if I’m hilarious, I go on.
“I’m seriously sick of watching them. Jesus, I practically smashed into three of them—six people—on my way in here, all holding hands and shit.”
“Three of them.” Blaine uses air quotes to mock me. “They’re not zombies who are part of the apocalypse.”
They might as well be.
“They’re in my way.” I pout into my half-empty glass.
My friends stop to stare at me, confused by my harsh tone. I’m not normally like this—honest.
“This is shitty? Couples annoy you? Life sucks because there are too many people in love crashing into you on the sidewalk?” Phillip wants to know, pounding the rest of his cocktail, tipping his glass to get a few ice cubes out then chewing them loudly. “Sounds to me like someone is still butthurt they were dumped a few weeks ago.”
Try six months.
And now that I’m single, I notice blissfully happy couples everywhere, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing but my amazing job.
Adding to my melancholy? The fact that now that I’m earning a decent wage, I’ve started semi-supporting my mother, sending her cash and checks when I can since she’s broke and it’s all I can do to help her out.
I go to work in the morning.
I go home to an empty apartment at night.
I see these two clowns a few times a month, and they’re the closest thing I have to an actual relationship since my girlfriend dumped me. Fuck, maybe I miss being in a relationship more than I thought.
This must be the alcohol talking. Those three shots and that cocktail have gone straight to my head and are messing with my good nature.
I can see by the looks on Blaine and Phillip’s faces that they’re not impressed with my sudden change of attitude, but I don’t give a shit. I’m feeling a certain kind of way and this is how I’m dealing with it.
“Sounds to me like someone is a wee bit jealous.” Phillip tries at light banter, affecting an Irish accent—he knows I fucking love it when he sounds like the Lucky Charms cereal leprechaun, damn him.
“Jealous? Me? Of what?”
“Couples?” Phillip hesitantly ventures to point out, giving a sidelong glance at Blaine, the only one of us dating a woman at the moment.
“Should we be adding that to the list we made last week of things that drive you nuts? I took notes.” Blaine whips out his cell, pulling up the notes app. “Let’s see,” he reads out loud. “Puppies. Dogs peeing on the sidewalk. Dogs in