New Year's Steve

Flicker, flash.

No. I will ignore it. I will pretend it’s not taunting me. I will push my glare-reducing glasses back up my nose and finish this report, demon possessed lightbulb be damned.

I quickly blow out a calming breath as I wiggle my fingers and place them back on the keyboard, depressing the space bar.

Flicker, flicker, flicker.

“UGH! Are you serious right now?” Slamming my hands down on my desk, I look up and glare at the offending tiles above as if God is watching and having a laugh at my expense — and sanity. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Waiting until I type to interrupt, huh?”

He doesn’t answer so I huff and lean back in my chair, trying to control my rage while recognizing I may need a quick vaca in one of those places overworked celebrities call “spas”. Preferably one that provides Xanax and a pillowtop mattress. The strobe like effects above my head shouldn’t produce this amount of anger, but there is only so much one woman can take. And I’ve been taking this for weeks now.

Plus, it’s New Year’s Eve and I know I’m in for the long haul.

Snatching my office phone off the cradle, I press the keys harder than necessary to dial Skeeter’s number. At this point I know it by heart, and doesn’t that just piss me off even more. Who in their right mind knows the seven digits to maintenance off the top of their heads? This crazy. That’s who.

As it rings, I remind myself to kill Skeeter with kindness, even if at this point I want to just kill him in general. But no. I am a strong, stable woman. I will remain calm and professional in my bunny slippers.

Okay maybe I’ll just remain calm.

I stretch out my body and stare absentmindedly at the ceiling, forcing my breathing to remain under control.

Flicker.

I flip my ceiling the bird. “Take that motherfuc…” Beep!

“… Skeeter! Felicity again, hiiiii. Listen, I know today is the last day of the year and I’m sure you’re busy with end of the year stuff like I am—.”

I roll my eyes at myself and my insane ability to blow smoke up someone’s ass during the most dramatic of situations. Although, clearly it isn’t having the desired effect so I may need to revisit how much cheer I force into my voice at a later time.

“It’s been weeks now that my light has been going out and it’s making it very hard to concentrate. We’re talking hostile working environment here, Skeets.”

Skeets? That’s a whole new level of smoke.

“So yeah. Please. I’m begging you. I will give you anything you want. My first born or, or… my favorite mug. Okay maybe not the mug but you get my drift. Hell, you can leave the lightbulb on my desk and I’ll do it myself. Yeah. Okay. Thank you, bye.”

I hang up, not convinced he’ll actually show up any time soon, but even if I wanted to back track and get the office manager in on this, she’s not here today. Not many people are.

I’ve worked here for years and not once have the head honchos been here on New Year’s Eve. Most of the tails honchos don’t show up either. A few of the lower level agents do, mostly because they don’t have office issued laptops to work from home like senior members do. I guess it’s just them and me today.

I begin slipping off my bunnies and putting on my strappy stilettos when my phone dings. I know who that has to be. My New Year’s Steve.

I snort a laugh to myself. That’s still funny.

Steve: Have you left the office yet?

Me: You know it’s still morning, right?

Steve: You know it’s a holiday right?

Me: All the more reason I need to finish these reports. I’m ready to take a few days off and start the new year right. Speaking of, have you decided where we’re going to meet yet?

Steve: Yes. But it’s still a surprise.

Me: We’re meeting in less than 12 hours! I need time to prepare!

Steve: There’s nothing to prepare for. Dress for a night out and wait for me to tell you where to go. I promise it’ll be fun.

Me: Fun like, “the lotion is in the basket, Hello Clarice,” or...?

Steve: Lol. No Clarice. I am not a serial killer. And we’ll be meeting in a public place. No worries there.

Me: Not worried. Just cautious. You are a stranger after all.

Steve: Not for much longer, assuming you get those reports done. I have a lunch date with a buddy so I’ll let you get back to it. See you tonight.

Me: Can’t wait to watch your balls drop with you!

Me: Your balls!

Me: The ball! Not your balls! I’m sure you have more than one. The big ball.

Me: Omg I quit. I’m going back into my hidey hole now.