An unfortunate tale.

2009-08-12T20:12:00.000-07:00

"Guess who didn't get the job?"

There's a pause before I speak. This is a bad sign, I know its a bad sign.

"Me?" I respond, sad I had lost out. The melancholy feeling was fleeting, thankfully, because if I didn't get it, I know who did.

"Neither of us." The Phone replies. Happiness is gone.

"What?" A knee-jerk response, to say the least. I had heard him, heard those awful words that had been transmitted. A picture that had been painted in my head over the past couple of days was gone, washed away with three little words.

"Who did?" A pointless follow up, I'm sure. I think I would've been told regardless.

"Someone, I'm not sure who."

"Are they one of the regulars?"

"No, It's someones wife."

I just couldn't believe it. I hadn't had much hope for myself getting the job, and I already had a source of income, I could thrive, at least for now. But this was a death sentence for my favorite haunt.

My friends would soon be departing, leaving for the adult world. Getting real jobs, getting married. If I'd worked there, or one of my favorite people been employed, I'd have more of a reason to stop by. However, since the news broke, my fascination for the location had waned considerably.

The Phone still spoke to me, but I didn't hear it. I was quickly being encompassed by rage.

Scenarios played out in my head, each more ridiculous then the last. One had me yelling at The Proprietor, as if some great injustice had been done. Another had me committing arson. The most extravagant was the recruitment of Batman, several hundreds of him from the various fictional universes, and watching and giggling with glee as they savagely took turns pouncing on the current subject of my hate.

Of course, these were all thoughts of passion, and nothing would be acted upon. Not until dimensional travel and Batman were both real things, anyway. It was his business, it was his to run into the ground if he so wished.

But then, this was rational thinking, and, when encompassed by rage, rational thinking does not simply occur. So I raged some more, yelling at anything and everything on the internet. Of course, exclamation points at the ends of my sentences weren't going to be enough.

I said good-bye to The Phone. I felt bad, but I was angry, and he didn't deserve to be the target of my rage. He was the messenger, as well as the victim. Perhaps he felt worse then I did about it even, but I was going to spoil my rage, even if over something so small.

"THIS IS BULLSHIT!" I ranted to the Man who is Blond, an old friend. Just like me, to trade out one confidant for another. Granted, the Man who is Blond did ask me what was wrong, unfortunate for him I unleashed my full fury on him at once. Not at him, he was not swept away and forced to defend himself, simply on him, as if he had an umbrella to stay dry during my downpour of loathing.

"That's some bullshit." His response, supportive of my argument, however ridiculous it may in fact be. A friend will always tell you want you want to hear when you need to hear it.

"Indeed. Fuck." My own words, this time without caps. Or even exclamation points. If anything, it was a grudging acceptance of the way the cards had been dealt.

An awful hand was my result, sure, but then again, I didn't end up betting too much. This was only a possibility, I had been aware of that fact the entire time. Sure, it would've been nice, but plenty of nice things just don't happen.

I may have cursed a bit more after my "Acceptance Fuck" but they were simply icing on the cake, meaningless in the long run. I had lost, it was time to move on.

Too bad Batman doesn't exist.

Dramatized Experiences

An unfortunate tale.