This is a pilot episode for a new series I am working on enjoy.
Miss Vita
Joe Farelli sat on the porcelain, thumbing through his cell phone. He was agitated and was destined to be late for work again if he didn't hurry. Yet some business could not be rushed. Even the strong black coffee hadn't helped his situation, he really needed to eat better he chastised. However, he never took himself up on that particular challenge. Cooking for one sucked, and restaurant food was so damn good.
The world news once again looked bleak, the entire country was going to shit, and an election loomed. Two equally unappealing candidates, he was afraid for his future no matter who he chose. Perhaps he would sit it out this year. He swiped the world conflict away with a grimace and decided to look at something more cheerful. No matter how innocuous his reading began, usually with 'Hooked on the Look' segments. The only reason he kept a Facebook, mostly his internet searches denigrated into looking at the 'harder' stuff.
Porn hub loomed alluringly on his browser, he glanced at the time and willed his body to hurry, but again became lost as his wandering eyes alighted on an unbelievably huge pair of breasts and a deep fathomless cleavage. He became entranced very quickly. Now this was the kind of woman he craved, the 'hour glass' kind of girl, and he had dated his fair share. However right now he was lonely, Rhonda had left him only two weeks before, and the pain was still fresh.
Finally, the smallest fruition to his bathroom mission, it wasn't remotely satisfying, but it would have to do. Joe hauled up his trousers and wished he could have worn something more comfortable than a business suit today. However, there were many meetings scheduled and he had to look his best. He wished it was the weekend not Monday, and he could have spent more time looking at those wide hips and heaving breasts, but he was late as it was.
He crossed the carpet, slipped on his shoes, and gathered up his car keys and wallet. His only company Salt, a black and white tuxedo cat sauntered by. The creature acknowledged him with a single meow as he made to leave. Salt wasn't much of a companion Joe mused, he was empty like the last three women he had dated. He was an aging cat. He had chosen him from the shelter rather hastily, after losing his previous and most beloved cat in terrible circumstances. He should have waited, but Salt was here and he would have to do.
The drive to work wasn't far, but the traffic was congested. Joe swore at the other drivers profusely from the comfort of the inside of his air-conditioned Jeep. Something he would never rightly do to their faces, because he was, as many said, a polite and rather likable guy. However, when he was behind the wheel it was different, it was like testosterone freely flowed. He was a road warrior.
"Get a fuckon moving already Bitch!" He yelled, "can't you drive!" No one could hear him though, and that was a comfort to Joe, he had to vent his frustration somewhere. He looked at the clock on his dash and growled. Why did everyone have to drive so slowly and uncertainly when he was so very, very late. At least it was not half as bad as last Friday when an accident had left him waiting in traffic for over thirty minutes. His supervisor was going to be pissed at him, late now two days in a row.
He could remember when he had been in college learning all he could about computer science and networking. That time seemed far distant. He had recently turned forty, he was no fresh-faced college graduate anymore, and his career in IT now seemed stale and all too limiting. Sure, he could change jobs, perhaps get work in the private sector, but it all seemed just as dreary as his very existence had become. What he really craved was a mate to share it all with. That perfect one, but where the hell was she?
Finally, he pulled into his parking space, he was well over fifteen minutes late. He hadn't even had time to stop and get his usual breakfast biscuit and sausage. He hoped there were some good pastries or doughnuts left by the time he got off for lunch at the canteen. He rode the elevator to the eleventh floor and went straight to his cubicle. Wishing he had an office. He had constantly been promised one, but he sensed after five years that the management was just humoring him. He hoped that no one would notice his late entrance.
No such luck, his supervisor Peter looked out of his glass door with a scowl of disapproval, at once rounding on him with a request. "We have a screwed up DNS server and they need you to take a look at it, and Ayleen's printer isn't working."
"On it," Joe said, slipping off his gray suit coat and draping it over the back of his swivel chair. Anything to avoid a dressing down for his second late infraction in days. All his supervisor ever saw or remembered was the bad things. He never once gave credit for all the times Joe stayed late fighting with a server or fending off a DDOS attack.
He really wanted to check his phone, so he attempted that on the way to the server room. At least there he could have some privacy. He felt the constant need to check his messages on the various dating sites he frequented. He had hit pay dirt once, so why not try his luck again? My, sweet Vita had been a doozy, and living with her had been a bittersweet, and a rather strange experience.