Hard Rider

The lobby was stuffed full of yuppies in suits and ties, all of them clutching their briefcases like they contained the secret to life. The way they walked around cursing to themselves and frantically punching buttons on their cell phones made me question whether they weren’t just a bunch of robots put here for my amusement.

“Oh… ho, ho! There’s the badass.”

God, help me.

“I thought that was you! You didn’t beat anybody up on your way over here, did ya tough guy?” He pronounced it didja.

“Only here to take care of my business,” I said, just like every other time he asked me the same stupid question.

His name was Steve… something, and he worked the security desk before the building’s main elevators. You had to sign in with him and let him check your bag before you got to go up to your floor. Somewhere along the line I let it slip that I trained to fight and ever since I’d been suffering his lame jokes.

“Let me ask you something,” he said.

I can’t wait. “Go ahead.”

“I’ve seen that cage fighting stuff on T.V. Doesn’t it get a little awkward rolling around on the ground like that with another half-naked man? I mean, it seems to me-”

“You’d be worried about getting hard?” I interrupted.

His face turned as red as a strawberry. “Uh, what? No! That’s disgusting.”

“But that’s what you’re implying, isn’t it?” Normally, I wouldn’t waste two breaths on this ignorant douchebag but it was entertaining to watch him flounder a little bit.

“I… no, of course not. It just seems funny to me, is all.” He was fumbling around with a stack of papers to give his hands something to do.

I looked over each of my shoulders and then leaned in so close to him that our noses nearly touched. His eyes got as wide as dinner plates. “I’ll tell you this, Steve…” I could smell the fear coming through his pores. “We do have a little bit of an initiation ritual down at the gym for the new guys. If you ever wanted to come down, I could personally show you the ropes, you know… if you’re into that sort of thing.” I winked and the color dropped right out of him.

“Uh… no, no thank you. They keep me pretty busy down here at the Hawthorne Building. I don’t have much time for cage fighting.” He waved me through with a quick hand, but he wouldn’t make eye contact.

“That’s too bad,” I said. “I think the guys down there would like you.”

“Uh huh. Okay, then. Have a nice day, Mr. Eason.”

He was so flustered that he even forgot to make me sign his log-in sheet. I stared him down as I walked to the elevator, but he never looked up.

Fitting In’s office was on the thirty-third floor. That was the stupid name of their organization: Fitting In. It reminded me of a lazy title for a porno, but I only had to come down here a couple more times so… who cares?

The check-in desk was down the hall and to the left. They always left me waiting there for way too long. I hoped it wouldn’t be the case today because I had to get to work.

“Mr. Eason?”

The girl’s name was Casey. She was usually the one to bring me back to the office.

“Yeah?”

“Mrs. Hemlock is ready to see you now.”

My ass hadn’t even hit the chair in the waiting area before she called me back. That had to be a first. “Already?”

“Right this way, please.”

Cheryl Hemlock wasn’t the energetic, plucky-type like her receptionist. She wore dark rimmed glasses and her hair was pulled back so tight that it always looked like she was on the verge of passing out from the pressure.

“Hello, Mrs. Hemlock,” I said. Casey gave me a sympathetic nod before scooting away.

“Sit down please, Sir.”

I picked the chair closest to her office door. Sitting too near to her authoritarian aura made me feel rigid.

She peered over the tops of her frames with a flat look. Her thin lips drew a line that almost cut her face in half. “Paperwork?”

“Right…” I said, stuffing my hands into my jeans pockets to fish for the little sheet of paper that would allow me to “pass Go.”

When I shoved it across her desk, she gave a disdainful look. “You really should keep these progress forms in better condition,” she said. “I’m sure your probation officer doesn’t appreciate seeing them all crumpled like this, either.” She shook her head as she smoothed it out over her planner.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I came straight from the gym,” as if that offered her any kind of acceptable reason.

I shifted in my chair as I watched her drag her pen down the list of tasks I’d completed during the week. Each time she passed over one, she made a little clicking noise with her tongue against the back of her teeth that I supposed meant she was seeing what she expected.

“All set?” I asked.

She shot me an annoyed look as if to say “be patient”, then kept reading. After what seemed like an eternity, she painstakingly put ink to paper and signed the bottom line of my sheet.

“This’ll do,” she said, “but I’d really like to see you pursue some other sort of hobby than this fighting thing. They’re all sorts of bad

characters who hang around boxing gyms. I’d hate to hear about you getting mixed up with any of them.”

“They’re good people,” I assured her. “Besides, I stay to myself for the most part.” It wasn’t worth trying to explain to her that the gym was the only thing keeping me on the right path.

“Mmm hmmm,” she said, her voice dripping in doubt. “Other than that, I’m pleased with your work hours. You’ve been keeping a busy schedule.”

“Yes, ma’am. I think I’m ready to move on from the program.”

“I’ll be the judge of-”

A leggy blonde with the darkest blue eyes I’d ever seen walked through the open door and cut her off mid-sentence. “Mrs. Hemlock, I have the information you requested on the court proceedings.”

Hemlock’s eyes bulged and the blonde recognized her mistake. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you had a client with you.” She looked down and quickly acknowledged me. The second our eyes met, she tore hers away and put her focus back on her boss. I could see that she was holding her breath.

“I see that,” Mrs. Hemlock said. “Please be more considerate.”

The blonde girl’s cheeks turned rosy and she hid her nose behind the manila envelope she was holding. “I apologize. The door was open and…” her words trailed off toward a pregnant silence.

“Like I said, be more considerate next time and we won’t have this problem.”

The blonde turned to leave. “Wait,” Mrs. Hemlock said. “Since you’ve already interrupted us, you may as well leave me the court paperwork.”

“Oh, of course.” Her cheeks had gone from rosy to fire hydrant red. “Here you go.”

She set the envelope in front of her and turned to make a hasty retreat. On her way, she tried to steal another look at me, but I caught her. When I did, she snapped her head straight so fast, I thought she might throw herself off balance.

Mrs. Hemlock blathered on about something else but I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. I was too focused on the girl. I leaned forward in my seat so I could watch her go.