JOHN DARK REPOST
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Reposted by permission of the author.
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Note: This story is copyright, January 1998, by Uther Pendragon. Readers
may download and keep one electronic copy for their own use, and "Ole Joe"
may repost it whenever he feels like it. He inspired the story, after all.
Both permissions are contingent on this notice remaining attached.
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FRIDAY
by Uther Pendragon
anon...@nyx.net
Whole modules have been written over crash weekends. (And many of
them have been rewritten over the next month, but that's another story.)
Never, however, in the history of the world has anyone who is going to
leave the office at five p.m. on Friday written a line of code after noon.
The department works enough midnights, it doesn't sweat the small stuff.
So, when I walked out a little before 11:30 and two minutes after Mary,
no-one would have dreamed of clocking my time.
Ironically, Mary caught an elevator before I got there, and we rode
down separately. I slowly caught up as she walked North. It was an even
day of the month, so she went first. Easy to remember, she has two; I
have one. She turned into a building which we hadn't visited in months.
We rode up without speaking and I followed her off on the eleventh floor.
She hit the down button. No one was waiting with us, which gave her a
little advantage in her preparation. The elevator was nearly full, but
they made space for the two of us.
"Anyway," she said in a quite low voice, "the stuff around the door
keeps the drafts out, but it creates a seal for the whole apartment. If
the door opens while you're taking a shower, the shower curtain blows
inward."
"Probably," I said, "even if you're not taking a shower." I didn't
know where this was going, but it was the obvious comment.
"Maybe," Mary said, "but you notice it more when it's coming towards
you. Anyway, there we were. At first, he'd been scrubbing my back. You
know how the dead skin accumulates back there where you can't quite reach
it."
"I use a loofah on a stick," I said.
"That can't get the right pressure, but I'll bet it gets your back
clean before it wants to do your front. Anyway," she said in a rising
voice, "I wasn't using a loofah; he wasn't using a loofah; he'd just
abandoned the washcloth, for that matter. Then the curtain blew in on us.
Someone had opened the outer door."
"My God," I said, "Your husband?"
"Worse!"
"Worse?" I exclaimed. "How could it be worse?"
Mary looked around the elevator. The people tried to pretend that
they hadn't been listening. "I'll tell you later," she said.
We left the building with the crowd and continued about two blocks
North. I led her East a block, and then into the large office building on
the North side of the street. We rode up in the elevators serving the
middle set of floors.
We walked along the hallway while those waiting got the down elevator.
Unfortunately, others came along while we were waiting for the next one.
"You live in an apartment," I told her. "That makes a difference."
"I think so," she said. "Making a difference, I mean. I certainly
live in an apartment."
"Well, you've seen my place," I said. "But I've made changes since
then. I've put up a fence. I still keep the front lawn well-mowed."
"I'm glad," she said. "I like a nice-looking lawn."
"And so does she," I said as the elevator finally came. "She likes a
good-looking house. And she's never denied that I keep up the property,
and there is lot's of land to keep up.
"I want you to understand this," I said after our group had crowded on
the elevator. "I would never try to keep a sheep in an apartment."
"Wouldn't be practical," she said.
"At least without consulting my wife," I said. "But, out there, we
have such a large back yard."
"Yes."
"That it did seem practical," I said. "And then there's AIDS.
"I would feel despicable," I said in my most sincere voice,
"absolutely despicable, if Sally were infected by some disease that I
brought home from an encounter with a prostitute."
"I'm sure that you would," she said. "And you wouldn't feel
particularly happy for having it yourself."
"No," I said. "But the child would be the worst. So, you see, the
sheep was the logical choice. But I wanted a woman's opinion. I think
it's just the pregnancy talking, but if it's a man-woman thing I should
make my peace now. She said that I should have consulted her. I felt that
she had been effectively consulted when she said 'no' so often when I ...
"Uh, let's continue this in more privacy." And I glared at the rest
of the people coming off the elevator with us.
The rest of the walk to the hotel was in silence, though she shook
with laughter once or twice. She took out her card without any discussion
as we approached the desk. I'd won that one, and Mary is always a good
sport.
THE END
Friday
Uther Pendragon
1998/01/11
This and most other stories by Uther Pendragon are archived at:
http://www.fortunecity.com/victorian/austen/104/index.htm
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FRIDAY
by Uther Pendragon
-30-
HAR!.....to bad you used to be worth reading.....now GAMES!