The bajillion cups of coffee I drank on the way here has my hands jittering as I press the button to make the elevator go to the 9th floor. When the door slides open I keep my eyes peeled for the boss. I don't see him so I sneak to my desk and pull up the file for the layout of the last pages of the "Winter Savings" booklet for a convenience store nearby.
That's what we do here: we make coupon booklets, coupon flyers, and occasionally posters for limited time offers that don't require an actual coupon. And believe me, everyone here cannot wait until the New Year, because everybody and their Yorkshire terrier wants the best deals when out Christmas shopping.
Before I can move the mouse to drag and drop a dotted line border around the coupon for page 14, I hear the voice of doom...AKA my boss!
"Nemecek!" he grumbles out the open door to his office.
I drag my feet and hang my head down as I start the walk. "Way to go, Nemo!" Smith chuckles at me and Wheeler throws a crumpled up coupon flyer at my head. Yep, the old walk of shame, gotta love it, gotta hate it - but mostly the latter!
I take a deep breath and enter the office. There he is, a five-foot tall unicorn wearing nothing but a necktie and a frown.
"Close the door, Nemecek. We need to have a little chat."
I close it, and now I'm for serious worried, because usually he barks at me with the door open so the others can hear. I assume he does this to make an example of me, but now I'm afraid I'll turn into a permanent example. I can just hear the gang now.
Hey, did ya hear about Nemo? He got canned for being late! Now he's crazy and buys lots of women's hats.
And then they'd probably laugh and high five. Yikes! I can't let that happen.
When I take a seat at his desk, I stare into the white of his coat, which is laced with silver. Probably from all the grey hairs I've given him!
He coughs to draw my attention to his eyes instead of his body hair. "How long have you been working here, Nemecek?"
Thank god, the phone rings and saves my hide.
He sighs and says, "Just a minute."
With a nod of his head, he uses his horn, which spirals to a sharp point to hit the speakerphone button on his phone. Hard ass or no hard ass, he's still a beautiful creature.
"Coupons, Coupons and More Coupons, Incorporated. How may I"
He's cut off by a woman's voice, "Honey, can you make it home a little early for dinner, because Scott's gonna be out from track practice by 5:30 and I'd like it if dinner was waiting for him, because you know how a runner's stomach gets all-"
"Babe, I'm with an employee, I can't really talk right now."
"I'll have you know, I've got a mind to suspect you are having an affair, and don't have a job at all. You've never had any of the boys from work over to dinner, cocktails, or even Scrabble."
Whoa, buddy, I can see the frustration in his eyes pop like a popcorn kernel in a popcorn machine, except his eyes don't make a pop sound like popcorn does when it goes "Pop!"
"Listen, sugar, I don't tell you how to raise the kids, so don't tell me how to run a business."
ZING!
And the speaker goes, "That's just typical, but you know what? You say you've got an employee with you? Hey, employee."
"Yes, Mrs. Steinberg," I say, a little uncomfortable, yet thoroughly loving the juicy drama.
"Please, come over for dinner tonight."
"Um..." I look to the boss, and he's shaking his deer-like face at me, left to right, right to left. "I'd love to."
There go his popcorn eyes again! Who's got the butter and salt?! I'm only kidding, of course.
"Great," she says. "5:30, on the dot."
Click and a dial tone. The boss stares at me with his black marble eyes like he's going to stick his horn into my chest. He doesn't say a word; he just lets the dial tone fill in the space.
"Well..." I say, dragging the word out, "if you're through with me, I'll just go work on the Clay Street Convenience Store coupons."
I get up and leave, but turn back to him when I reach the door.
"Open? Closed? Hmm?"
Dial tone.
"I'll just close it for you. You are very busy. And important. And attractive in a heterosexual manner. And also, some days you smell like a meadow. Bye."
I shut the door behind me, and wipe the sweat off my forehead.
Maybe accepting the dinner offer wasn't the best of ideas, but I figured it might buy me some time to win back his respect. I'll be cordial to his wife, and I'll give his son, Scott, a compliment about how he looks like he must run really fast. "Just from looking at you," I'll say.
Plus, I'll get out of work a little early. SCORE!
I decide to close the "Winter Savings" document and look up "meeting the boss's family for dinner" on Google.
I arrive at the house with bottle of Sparkling Apple Cider at 5:30 p.m. Not late this time, thank you very much, Mr. Steinberg. "Jingle Bells" can be heard when I press the doorbell. What a pleasant way to start the evening.
Mrs. Steinberg answers the door, and get a load of this: she's a human. And, yowza, what a human she is! She's wearing a short red dress with a slit up the side. I want to compliment her on her legs, but I want to call them "stems" when I do. I decide not to because complimenting her legs is a little risky, "stems" or no "stems."
"You must be Nemecek!" She offers me her hand.
I take it slow and lean in to kiss it. "You are an absolute vision."
She giggles and withdraws her hand, "Please, come in."
The dining room is all set with the food on the table and everything. On the side of each plate is a dandelion salad. At the center is a big honking steak.
"I hope medium rare is okay with you," Mrs. Steinberg says, setting my bottle of Sparkling Apple Cider on the table and motioning for me to sit down at one of the two chairs at the table.
"Are you kidding? That's my favorite level of rare."
Clippity clop comes the boss's hooves. "How lucky for you."
"Lovely home you have here, Mr. Steinberg. And a lovely wife, at that."
The boss grits his teeth and stands at the head of the table.
"Larry, honey, you didn't tell me your employees were such charmers."
"Who knew," he says with a coldness in his voice. And I'm thinking, Who knew the boss's name was Larry?
More clippity clops of hooves against the carpet, and soon I'll be meeting Scott I assume. HOLY MOLY - Scott is a centaur, only not half-horse, half-unicorn! He's even got a horn coming out of his human forehead.
"Sorry, I was in the shower." He looks to me. "Who's this?"
"Don't be so rude, Scottie. This is one of your father's colleagues."
Larry gives his wife a glance. Not too sure he liked the use of the word "colleague." Ouch!
"Scott," I say as he finds his place at the table and stands there. "I have a feeling that you are a very fast runner. Really, just from looking at you."
"Ah, well thanks, and all, but the coach just kicked me off the team today. District rules say only humans can compete. I'm human enough to take their classes, but not human enough to run."
"Oh, no, sweetie," his mother runs around the table to give him a hug. And, I tell ya, I wish I got kicked off the team, so I could be squeezed up tight against those ripe tomatoes.
Larry takes a break from looking stern long enough to say, "Hang in there, champ."
"You know," I say, "in high school, I was kicked out of the chess club."
And right on schedule, Larry gives me a dirty look.
"Why'd you get kicked out?'
"Because I would only play checkers."
Scott smiles. "Kinda like me. We're both different."
Larry looks at me with something in his dark eyes. Something I've yet to see. An element of surprise, not shock or anger, but just a little slice of pleasant surprise.
"Well, I don't want this beautiful meal to get cold. So dig in." With these last words he gives a subtle nod my way. I'm back on the track to success - or at least the track to being able to pay my rent!
Larry puts his mouth to the plate to retrieve a bite of steak, which has been precut into tiny cubes for him, and then says, "Judy's a fast eater. She can catch up with us."
And for the first time tonight, I realize there is a plate on the table that is unaccounted for. I have a mouthful of dandelion salad when Judy enters the room. Another unicorn centaur, but my word, she is more attractive than her mother, and that's taking into consideration her mother's long human stems.
I shake her hand and her soft touch gives me a mean case of the goose bumps. She has a look in her eye like she isn't an innocent centaur unicorn hybrid. In my head, my thoughts vote almost unanimously to remain quiet the rest of the evening, and to keep my eyes off her.
When everyone has had their fill, we hang out in the living room with coffee, and chat and laugh and have lots of fun. Even with Scott is doing an impressive impression of Babe Ruth, but I can't take my eyes off Mrs. Steinberg and Ms. Steinberg while they are laughing. I imagine Mrs. Steinberg riding on her daughter's back galloping over fences while they laugh. Ooh, and check it out; a gust of wind knocks off both their shirts.
Raise your hand if you're masturbating tonight!
I raise my hand, and everyone looks at me.
"Oh, just stretching, don'tcha know. Sorry to be redundant, Mrs. Steinberg, but that meal was divine. Like if God was a chef who cut up his own tasty arm into the tasty food he cooked, it still wouldn't be as tasty as your tasty dish."
"Well, you're very welcome. Feel free to come back anytime."
"Yeah," Larry says. "You'll have to stop by again sometime."
I feel like that's not only the cue that I'm off the hook, but probably also a cue that I should leave before I hop right back on the hook!
"Welp," I say, "I guess I should be heading home."
Then, without ANY warning, Judy says, "Wait. Did you ever get the grand tour?"
"Oh, how rude of me," Mrs. Steinberg says, "I was so quick to get you into the dining room because I wanted Scott to get a full tummy. Hmm. Judy, while I take care of the dishes, will you show Mr. Nemecek around?"
"Sure," she smiles dangerously at me, and, uh-oh, there go those darn goose bumps again. What trouble am I getting myself into this time? Let's find out.
I follow her up the stairs and all I want to do is take a brush and pet the clean white coat of hair on her hindquarters. She leads me down the hall and into a bedroom.
"This is my room."
"I like it."
She sniffs me and says "I don't get to see a lot of humans up close and personal." this is one saucy dame. She says, "Scott gets to do whatever he wants, but Daddy makes me go to an all-girls centaur school."
"That must be rough."
She takes a step closer, and I don't know how it happens, maybe it's her unicorn pheromones, because in no time I'm kissing her soft red lips. Smooch, smooch, smooch - like that. Her tongue swirls in my mouth and I'm thinking, This is totally righteous! The side of my head is rubbing at the base of her horn, and I set my hands on her warm waist.
BONER ALERT!
But then I hear a gruff voice down the hall say, "Hey, do you want any leftovers to take-"
I withdraw my lips from hers and, you guessed it, the boss is right beside me.
"Again, beautiful home you've got here, Mr. Steinberg."
Whoopsie-daisie!
I walk to my apartment with the knowledge that Larry has most definitely fired me already, but I also know that if I play my cards right, I could be fucking his daughter in no time.