I sit down at the plastic table across from Chloe, next to Kurt. Kurt is dining on a cheeseburger and fries while Chloe has a Greek salad she brought from home. I have opted for a Buffalo chicken sub and fries with a tub of ranch dressing on the side for dipping.
“Where has Dr. Filth been?” Kurt asks. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.”
“I don’t know,” I say, dipping a fry into the ranch dressing. “He’s probably off telling my ex-girlfriends where they can find me.”
Chloe cackles, throwing her head back and waving with both hands. “Yeah,” she says, composing herself, sealing it with a giggle. “That was funny. You going to get laid?” she asks.
“Probably,” I moan. “She said her engagement is almost broken up, so she probably wants to jump back on the Valentine roller-coaster again.” I slump down in my chair and slowly masticate the smothered french fry. “I mean, sex with her was always really great, so I can’t complain, but she probably wants to get back together again.”
“And you’ll probably do it,” Kurt says.
I shrug. “Probably. God, I’m such a fucking chump. I don’t want to get back together with Zoe again.” I pull myself up in my chair. “I just started seeing Alicia, and I like Alicia. Can Zoe smell this or something?”
“So don’t do it,” Chloe says. “Or do it, and send Alicia my way. I bet she’s a dirty girl. I bet she’d be willing to have some fun.”
“Apparently, she has a really wild past, and now she’s trying to get her life back together.”
“What’s she doing with you?” Kurt asks.
“She must be fooled,” I say nonchalantly.
Chloe sticks her tongue out at me. “Oh, fuck you. You’re no more of a bad boy than Kurt. You wear the clothes, but you’re a secret sweetheart. If she’s into you and trying to reassemble her life, it just shows she can see through all your bullshit.”
I grasp my breast. “Chloe, I’m hurt,” I gasp sarcastically.
“Good,” she says. “All right, enough love-talk.” Chloe shoves a wad of lettuce in her scarlet lips, munching her words around the food. “I’m sick of hearing about that crap.”
“I like that idea,” Kurt says, taking a big bite of his cheeseburger. “About an hour ago, I had some guy ask me how big my ass is.”
“What?” I ask incredulously. “Why was he concerned with the dimensions of your ass?”
“He said he was taking a survey. He said he used to do phone work, and he was doing a survey to see if everyone’s asses got bigger or if it was just his.”
“He called in to ask you this?” Chloe asks.
“No, I called him, but he said since he had me on the phone, he wanted to ask.” Kurt shrugs and adds, “He paid his bill in full, by credit card.”
“What did you tell him?” I ask.
“I told him that I started the job with my ass only twelve inches across, and now it was pushing 30?”
“Was that the proper answer?” I inquire.
“He was impressed. I thought he was going to ask me to send pictures.”
“Is this going to be a nationally published study?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’ll be published in the National Journal of Assology. Didn’t you read about it in last month’s issue?” Kurt asks. “Personally, I’m dying to read about it, and I’m excited to be a part of the study.”
“It’s true,” Chloe adds, looking at me with disappointment all over her face. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard about this.”
I point down the plaza to the shambling mound of flesh that is shuffling our way. “Dr. Filth has arrived.”
Kurt and Chloe turn and look as the good Doctor falls into the seat between them, gives all of us a glance and lights up a cigarette. He sets a bottle of what was once all Coke—but is no doubt mostly Jack Daniels—on the table so he can cup his cigarette against a non-existent breeze and mumbles something that could be construed as a greeting to us.
“How are you, Doc?” I ask. “I see it’s ‘Drinking at Work Day’.”
“Every day is ‘Drinking at Work Day’,” he snarls and takes a sip, struggling feebly when I take it away from him and drink some as well. “I talked to a guy who was legally dead twice.”
“Dead?” Kurt asks.
Filth nods. “He said that the government is trying to take away everything he owns, and the hospital is trying to persecute him through their lawsuits that are pending against him. He feels he should not be responsible for any medical bills incurred while he was not among the living. The hospital is saying that they won’t drop the case because they are trying to say he incurred the most expenses during the time he was dead.”
“What,” Kurt Vance asks. “You’re doing medical insurance now?”
“I had one today,” Chloe says. “It was some old Russian man whom I called. He just kept screaming, ‘Take your bills and shove them up your pussy!’ over and over again. I think it was the only English he knew. I couldn’t get the fucker off the phone. Finally, his wife got on the line, screamed at me for a while, and hung up.” She sighs again and eats the last of her salad. “I really thought I was going to have to leave work, I was so pissed.”
The Doc holds out his bottle of Jack and Coke. “Need a pick me up?”
Chloe takes the bottle, drinks a mouthful, and hands the bottle back to the doctor. He takes another big drink, his face registering no more displeasure than if it were real cola. “These are the calls we need to use in the movie,” he says.
“Ha!” Chloe exclaims. “The movie! How much do you have written?”
“We have the beginning of a script,” I defend.
“The beginning?” Chloe retorts. “You need more than beginnings if you are going to sell it.” She seals her Tupperware containers and puts them into her backpack. “You guys are just going to keep talking.”
“Aren’t you just Miss Cynical tonight?” I ask. “What’s wrong, Captain Angry Pants?” I ball up my paper plate, put it in my empty soda cup and toss it into the garbage can a few feet away. “Why does Chloe hate us today?”
“It’s just been a shitty day is all,” she snarls. “I’m not all that happy to be here.”
“And it’s going to be a bad weekend too,” Kurt says. “It’s already building up to be a killer.”
“Yeah,” she snaps. “This is the weekend we turn off phones. I’m going to have one hell of a nightmare weekend.”
“While we’re sleeping late and getting really drunk,” I boast, cracking my knuckles over the table, expecting to get punched. “I’m so glad I have this weekend off. I would lose my shit if I had to do a bad weekend. If they don’t have material to fire me yet, they would have it by Monday.”
“Yeah?” Chloe asks. “You want to shut up about having this weekend off? Let’s not forget that I am going to be among the suffering.”
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m sure this weekend is going to be an absolute blast to work though. Just wait and see,” I add sarcastically.
“We going to the bar tonight?” Doc Filth asks. “I’m going to need to get drunk after today.” He drops his cigarette butt and stamps it out. “Is it a full moon or something? All the lunatics are out. I’ve got nut-cases, Chloe has nuts...”
“Kurt has a 30 inch ass,” Chloe interrupts.
Filth stares at her for a few seconds before he holds out his hand and mutters, “I don’t want to know.” He shakes a cigarette out of his pack and jams it between his lips. “You SpectraCom people scare me.” He pauses, looks at the three of us in turn and says, “I was talking about something else, wasn’t I?” His eyes drift around. “What was I talking about?”
“Are you stoned?” Chloe asks.
“Nope,” he says. “Just naturally dumb. Thanks for pointing that out.”
“I’m supposed to hang out with Alicia tonight, but I don’t know what we’re going to do,” I say, taking a deep breath and looking at everyone expectantly. “Any suggestions?”
“Are you going to hump?” he asks.
“Probably not,” I say, blushing slightly.
“Are you going to kiss her?” Chloe pushes.
I wave my hand and turn away. “Could the conversation deviate from the intimate details of my impending evening? I’m not the type to potentially kiss and tell.”
“You have to make your move or she is going to think you’re not interested,” Chloe says. “She is going to think you are gay and start thinking of you as a girlfriend.”
“I know, I know, I know,” I snap.
“Just fucking do it,” Chloe says. “Stop being a pussy and fucking do it.”
“I will!” I protest.
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