by Carl Jeffreys

Created on: August 13, 2008

It was Friday. The alarm rang with as much enthusiasm as it had for the past four days and Chas, with as much enthusiasm as the last four days promptly hit the snooze button for what would be the third time this morning. The final line of defence, his clock radio finally switched on and the morning breakfast radio hosts started their usual ranting and raving about how great it was to be Friday. Chas couldn't think of anything worse. Friday was, simply put, twenty percent of all work days and therefore not worthy of as much excitement as his colleagues used to gush about it.

Looking at the clock and knowing exactly how late he was going to be for the fifth time this week, Chas forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom where through half closed eyes he expertly flipped on the lights, heater and extractor fan in one swift palming motion.

He would have five minutes to shower, two minutes to dress and a further three minutes to get to his car and begin the twenty five minute journey to work. This extremely closely managed lifestyle was the product of an ongoing balancing act between his two loves; money and beer.

The automatic doors slid open as Chas walked into the hospital, his manager standing with arms folded and standing behind the reception post where he should have been standing five minutes before.

"You're late."

"Quite the observationist aren't we?"

"That's not even a word, Chas. You didn't shave either."

Damn. Chas knew he had forgotten something, but cutting his shower down to two minutes to accommodate a three minute shave was just not going to happen, especially when he was this hung over. Besides, he liked the feel of the stubble and felt it gave him a rugged, manly appearance.

Unfortunately for a hospital administration officer, rugged and manly isn't the desired corporate image. Chas had often thought about the desired corporate image of St Peters' hospital, and was sure it was something that exuded a lot of slime, much like the example now standing with arms folded and staring daggers at him.

"My train was delayed. I heard there was something about a suicidal train jumper at Central."

"You drive, Chas. Those are your car keys in your hand. You talk about your car and driving to work each and every day."

Chas stopped swinging the keys around his middle finger and caught them in the palm of his hand. This was not going well. A quick ending was the only way to get away from this vile succubus.

"Well it was nice to chat but I do have to go do my job now,

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>