Carl went to Sandwich Select for lunch. He had tried to convince Kevin and Alison to go with him, but they both said they didn't want to go through the hassle of disabling and reenabling Collaborate Plus unless they knew the food would be good.
Sandwich Select was a large, clean space, with a long counter on one side and seating on the other. They had a selection of soups, salads, and sandwiches, and while their selections weren't as interesting as those Panini Plus used to have, it still seemed fine.
Carl ordered bacon and onion jam tuna melt, which was the closest thing he could find to his favourite seared ahi tuna sandwich from Panini Plus, and then sat down at a table next to the wall, under an innocuous painting of a beach.
There weren't as many people in the restaurant as Carl had expected. Most people were getting their sandwiches to go. He could understand why: the decor wasn't particularly enticing, and the soft rock music of the 1980s wasn't helping.
Carl ate his sandwich while catching up on his social media feeds and trying to ignore the sound of Rocker Blues playing too loud in the background.
There was nothing interesting happening on social media, and soon enough Carl's thoughts drifted to the note from the bathroom. He had it in his pocket. He didn't know how to answer it.
Did he want to write another poem to this anonymous person on the other side? Was this person even serious about wanting another poem? And what was with them asking him if he minded being asked to do things? Was that meant to be flirty? Or was it just a question? It was hard to tell.
He took the message out of his pocket and looked at it. He didn't mind being asked to do things, but he needed to know if he was being asked to do things in a kinky way or in a "you're boring and I want to keep the conversation going" way. It was a question of informed consent. But he couldn't just come right out and ask. That would be inappropriate. But then again, writing a poem about a cock ring was inappropriate.
Carl folded the note back up and put it back in his pocket, then he finished his sandwich, and went back to the office.
YOU ARE READING
Missing Things - FIRST DRAFT
General FictionA first draft of a mess about a guy, a pandemic, and an empty office. It's about missing things. One of the things that's missing is a plot. As I said, this is a first draft and it's here for funsies. At some point it'll be taken down because I'll w...
