and now for something completely different

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Life sure has a funny way of doing things, you think, waiting on the front porch for your Uber the next morning. You're running on maybe a couple hours of sleep, having found no comfort on Erik's couch, and a pounding headache vibrates right behind your eyes as you squint out at the expensive neighborhood.

Sure, he told you he'd get you to work in the morning if you came home with him, but he never said he'd be in such a deep sleep that you wouldn't be able to wake him if you tried. And you tried. You knocked, you called him, you stood over him in his bed (not for long because it felt too creepy), and you poked his legs to try and get him to wake up. He seems like the type to wake up swinging if startled so you never even tried to shake his shoulders. From what little of them you saw, though, they were covered in tons of uniform keloid scars that were arranged in a way that had to be intentional and your mind is definitely occupied as you sit on his porch. You're curious about them, but you don't really feel like trying to bring it up in conversation. From your experience, it's best not to be nosy about a person's self-inflicted scars.

Your Uber, a black Cruze just like yours, pulls up just as you get the urge to call off. It'd never work, your job is awful about calling off and anyone who does the day of gets an earful by the supervisors. There may be a chance you'll be good if you suddenly contract something highly contagious. That, upsets work flow and thus cannot be tolerated.

The driver tells you good morning as you slide into the backseat, and all you can muster is a smile your head is pounding so bad. It hurt to even keep it upright, and you had to forego your usual makeup so as not to black out in that beautiful bathroom in the downstairs hall. The countertop was black, granite or marble or maybe even some kind of rare gemstone, and you spent an embarrassingly long time just running your hands over the smooth surface. All in all, you emerged into this bright Monday morning with your eyebrows looking as if they met on the street and a big run in your tights from your nails. You look kind of a mess, all things considered, and you were forced to put your Docs back on after finding that they were all you had outside of flip flops and a pair of Nikes sandals.

Only one of the three are dress code compliant.

The simple babydoll dress you have on under your cardigan is the One staple you have at your job, and you wear a different pattern every day solely because it's the only thing that both fits the dress code and feels as comfortable as a pair of sweatpants.

Faster than you expect it to your phone vibrates, letting you know that you've arrived at work and it makes you sit up, dazed as you look out of the window. Sure enough, three times faster than you would have traveled alone, you see the wide glass and brick building stretching in front of you. A couple coworkers you speak to on a daily say hello as you make your way up the stone pathway, but you're too focused on that short line in the coffee shop to pay anyone any mind.

Caffeine and sugar are usually good enough to quell your headaches until you can make it to a bottle of aspirin so you make sure to order a large coffee and two cinnamon bagels. It's going to be a long day.

It's so long, actually, that it has you ready to quit by the end of it. Never in your life have you felt so miserable at work and you can't decide if it's your aching knee, your sore feet, the headache, or the fact that your body is punishing you for not sleeping with that absolute specimen last night. Hell, maybe if you got some you'd at least have gotten some good sleep. To top it off, you've been hiding in the downstairs lobby bathroom 10 minutes past your clock out time because a man from the mailroom won't stop trying to take you out.

Sure, you'd date a white guy, if he was Steve Rogers or maybe Thor, but this dude couldn't look more like a news report waiting to happen if he tried. More often than not you try not to be a bitch when it comes to making assumptions about people but you could only do so much with the faces provided to you.

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