Late For Work

I was five minutes late this morning. It happens to the best of us. Usually it’s not a big deal. If someone is waiting it’s always someone I know. They’ll bust my balls but I’ll remind them that I haven’t opened the door yet so, if they don’t want me to call in sick right now, they should proceed with caution because,

“If I call in sick it’ll take my boss an hour and a half to get here.”

I do have my ways.

But today an oily, greasy, salesweasel was sitting in his car waiting for me. He got out of his car in a huff making sure I noticed him checking the time on his low end famous brand watch.

“You’re five minutes late.” He snarls.

“You’re lucky.” I say over my shoulder. “That means I’m fifteen minutes earlier than usual.”

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