Flash! Fiction 3 by Peter McMillan - HTML preview
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37
They just discovered they’d taken the same class in college 15
years ago. Now Marv and Cami had adjacent cubicles in a call centre.
Last Friday night they and some of the other CSRs went out to a sports bar. The playoffs were underway, and everyone was a hockey fan this year—to varying degrees—since the home team had a chance to win the Cup.
They were 12 to start with, but two had to leave early because of a double shift the next day. Everyone was eating and drinking, talking and laughing and having a good all-around time. Marv and Cami happened to be seated next to one another.
On the huge TV screen, the announcer screamed “GOAL! Peder-sen’s slap shot IN the back of the net!”
Cami, watching the replay, said “Actually, I prefer slapstick.”
“That would be highly illegal even in this game, Cami, but keep a good thought,” said Marv.
“Hmm, yeah. After today’s day, that’s not easy. What a pack of whiny, lying, rude bastards they are sometimes.”
“You gotta have a thick skin, not take it so personal. Course, it helps to drink—afterwards, I mean. Puts things in a different—
perspective.”
“I do, but I didn’t even drink this much in college. We oughta get a, uh, a mood rehabilitation allowance or something. Don’t you think?”