“When Tracey first started running, she showed up wearing a fanny pack!” McKenzie said as she scrolled through her phone.
The salesperson looked up from where she was measuring my foot and cocked her head to the side. “Aw, that’s sweet.”
“Will you shut up?” I shot at McKenzie.
“What? You did,” she said. “Look, I took some pictures of you while you did your test run. I’ll text them to you.”
“Fine,” I said.
He was almost to the door. Soon, he’d be gone.
I called after him. “Hey Marc, wait!”
He turned back to me. “Yeah?”
I began rummaging around in my wallet. “Can you get me a pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups while you’re there? Like the family-size pack?” Marc was off to Duane Reade to up our stash for the Office Gum Culture Task-Force. I found a 5 dollar bill and waved it at him. “But I mean, the mini-size, but in the family bag?” I sighed and shook my head. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well. I’m not making a lot of sense.”
He approached my desk and took the cash. “Sure, no problem.”
“Thanks,” I said. Then I turned back to my computer and tried to focus.
“I’m quitting smoking,” my co-worker, Archie, announced as we were taking a cigarette break outside the Duane Reade below our office.
“Wow,” I said, as I took a drag. “What brought this on?”
Archie had always said he loved smoking too much to ever stop. “It’s my only vice!” he’d exclaim. Of course, I knew this not to be true.
He rolled his eyes. “Chad says he won’t pay for my plastic surgery if I don’t quit.”
Chad is Archie’s much older, kind and quite distinguished boyfriend. He lives a very healthy lifestyle and doesn’t smoke or drink but always lets the rest of us run around his penthouse and play Flip Cup on his marble dining-room table. I was pretty sure this plastic surgery nonsense was not Chad’s idea. Continue reading Smoke ‘Em If You Got ‘Em.
Not Quite A Cougar 