“Yeah, OK,” I said, and so we started the routine. It was actually five
minutes before Dick and Courtney rose and left the café in disgust while Nick
and I quietly cackled to ourselves as we watched them leave.
“Ya gotta give Dick his due—he’s a patient son of a bitch,” Nick said.
“Or he is a ‘very slow on the uptake’ son of a bitch,” I replied.
“You two do realize that you are just postponing the inevitable; he will
just keep pestering and nagging you until you do it,” Mel foretold us.
“Yeah, I know, but at least I’ll have the satisfaction of tormenting the
shit out of him as much as I can before I do it,” I foretold her back.
In the end, it was three days before I gave in and told Dick and Courtney
to go pack their bags, but at least I got in three days of tormenting
beforehand. My feelings of happy self-satisfaction were tainted considerably
when Dick and Courtney raced over to a corner of the café and returned carrying
their already-packed bags. My happy self-satisfaction was further tainted by the
sound of laughter from Nick, Sammy, and Mel behind me.
“Get aboard the ship and strap yourselves in!” I barked.
As they left toting their luggage, I spun around to glare at the three
behind me, but as that didn’t turn them into pillars of salt, make them disappear
in puffs of smoke, or stop them from laughing, I marched out of the café to go
in search of my space suit.
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