After removing my damp nostrils from a stranger’s armpit, I hopped off the overcrowded morning train and started walking in the direction of my office. I bumped into Steph just outside the train station and our greetings were deflated by the blaring siren of a fire truck that hurtled past us. I found it amusing that we both crossed our fingers when we saw it.
Sadly our office was still intact when we arrived, but just outside the entrance was a junkie who bore a striking resemblance to Iggy Pop, in as much as he looked like a vein wrapped around a skeleton. I gave him a small handful of shiny and after we entered the lobby Steph berated me for handing out money to him. I explained that it was only a few dollars and I enjoyed helping someone, even if in a shallow and token way. She argued that I was only enabling his drug fuelled lifestyle.
When it was time for someone to do the morning coffee run, Steph was arguing with Mike over a latté he owed her from a few weeks ago. Mike was adamant that it was the other way around. They continued to squabble loudly across the walls of my cubicle until I calmly stood up and gave Steph the money needed for her morning caffeine, which she gleefully accepted.
It’s nice to know I helped two addicts get their fix this morning.
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One Comment
Fire truck?
You’re not, by any chance, a septic?