Delete Me

*RING!*

Usually I screen my calls but I'm kinda trembly with anticipation for a certain call, so I pick this one up.

It's the no-nonsense baritone of my arch-nemesis, Mason from Collections.

"Mr. C., you said you weren't employed."

"That is true."

"You answered the phone at your job."

"I answered the phone at home. I am at home."

"You answered at work." Mason , sadly, has never lied to me. I call my old workphone.

"Hello, you have reached the desk of Allan C..."

What the $^3@!!? The New Guy still hasn't changed the answering message? It's been 6 weeks since I quit.

Now I have to prove that I don't have a job so I can keep these wolves off my porch until I do get a job and can start paying them again. I try to reach my old boss, but all I get is his voice mail. I wonder if he still works there?
Maybe everyone's been replaced and no one has bothered changing any messages...it makes sense to not change them if you think about it:
A drone is a drone is a drone. Nobody gives a fuck what your name is.

Eh.

Now I'm hungry. Might as well have some Christmas leftovers. Yummy, made the gravy and dressing from scratch, I did. It's better the day after, the flavors have settled in...mmmm...
OUCH! MOTHERFUCK!
I just lost a filling and it feels like I cracked a tooth chewing on the dislodged dentrifice.
Sure wish I had insurance.
Sure wish I had a lot of things.
Some Tylenol would be a start. Better go get some, I don't seem to have any.

I do have a new MagLite that I got for Xmas. I should put it in the trunk of my new (for me ) 1990 Volvo, which is actually a really nice car for being so old- the only decent car I've ever had. It's my pride and joy.
It's almost cherry, all leather, power everything, nice.

Oh. It's not.

It has a giant-ass dent in the trunk, like someone hit it with a hammer. Twice.
That dent wasn't there last night. Was someone trying to break in? My old car was once vandalized when parked in this same spot , but they smashed the glass...this is weird, like something fell from above. The taillights are OK, not like a car hit it. Fuck.
So much for the one nice thing that I own.
I guess I am just not meant to have or do anything that isn't fucked-up.
This isn't the first time I've had this thought.

So I go back inside, my tooth aching and my brain seething, and there's a message on my machine, blinkity-blink-blink.
Mason has already called- maybe this is the Twin.
Maybe it's a call-back for a job?
Perhaps it's something even better than that?

It's my date! Yes! Been waiting for this call...

Oh wow. She's sorry to have to give such short notice and all, but it seems she's met someone else and that she's sorry , but he's the one she's sticking with...this is harsh stuff for a voice mail. I wonder if she was watching my apartment , waiting for me to leave before she called?


Met someone else? Since Saturday?

I just met this woman on Saturday- she must meet a lot of men.

Thinking about this makes me feel absolutely awful but it does take my mind off my toothache and my trashed car for a minute or two. Actually, it distracts me for about fifteen minutes, because I play the recording over and over, hoping for a different message.

As soon as I hear the words: " I'll see you tonight", I will walk outside and find that my car has been magically repaired.
Then my tooth will stop hurting.
I'll close my eyes and when I open them I'll be someone else, somewhere else and all this will go away.

But after the tenth playback of her sixty-second 'Dear John' I decide that the words are gonna stay just the way they are, so I hit DELETE.

*poof*

Reset to zero.