A Date Gone Awry
At work the next morning, I confronted Caitlyn about her actions the day before. She was very apologetic, but had received a call just before arriving at the cafe. It seems that the lab had been contacted by aliens, and she was needed at once. It was above my pay grade, so I wasn’t needed. I don’t know why Shelley was hanging around outside the lab today, but there she was.
I forgave Caitlyn for taking off on me, and we hugged it out.
The rest of the day at worked passed uneventfully, and I left feeling good about my job. When I arrived at home, Rashawn called me up (Sam’s name was Rashawn) and invited me out to the Shrieking Llama for drinks and games.
“Absolutely!” I said. It sounded like fun.
It wasn’t. At least, not to begin with. Ol’ Rashawn spent the first hour or so watching the soccer match. His team wasn’t doing well, from what I understand. There was a lot of yelling and cursing, and mother-llama-ing the referees. Eventually, whichever sports club he was cheering for lost their game, and the bar staff turned on the figure skating competition.
Rashawn wasn’t happy, and he left shortly thereafter. Jerk. Well, that was your last chance buddy. Don’t call me again.
And that’s when Myron spotted me. Or, at least that’s when I spotted Myron spotting me. He bought me a drink, and let me know that the guy I came in with was a jerk. Preaching to the choir, my friend, but thanks.
He challenged me to a game of foosball, to which I accepted. I needed to whack at things and blow off some steam.
The game was wicked. We were evenly matched, and the bar patrons started noticing.
Eventually he beat me with a score of 21-20. By the time we finished, the bar was closing up, and I was exhausted. I headed home to bed, alone still, but feeling good.