I looked up from the computer and stared at the wall. My job sucks. I have been doing the same thing for twenty years. For the last ten, I have been bored out of my mind. Somehow I managed to lessen my workload to the point where I almost felt guilty accepting my paycheck. My lunch hour has stretched into two and I have a tendency to leave early on many occasions. Being a director of a small IT department in a medium sized company allowed me the leeway to be lazy.
Unfortunately for my company, I am a difficult person to replace. My early years were packed with motivation. I was given free reign over the network and the software that the company used. In many cases, I ended up coding solutions that just couldn't be purchased. My contributions are now an integral part of the company. I am not so naive to think I couldn't be replaced but, it would be very painful. The only manuals and documentation for my software are in my head. I didn't plan it that way, it just evolved as the company grew.
I went from a one man shop to a department of five. Now most of the day to day is handled by subordinates and I just worry about my databases. Strangely, my paycheck grew as my duties began to slack. My biggest issues are making sure my people are at work on time and the occasional ad-hoc report that only I can build.
I have close to a hundred days of vacation saved. I rarely use it since I really have no place to go. My wife passed seven years ago and even before that we weren't big travelers. I now considered the cached days as a retirement bonus. Eventually I will get it all as a lump sum and do something wild. I am, of course, fooling myself. I haven't done anything wild since my stint in the army many years back. I am just plain vanilla boring. The only excitement I get these days is finding a new episode on my DVR.
I looked at the clock again and saw it was just past eleven. Time for lunch. Most of the people in the company have grown used to me not being in the office between eleven and one. I am sure they suspected my extended lunch but, they never broached it to me. I had inadvertently trained them over time.
Lately I have been going home for lunch. I only live ten minutes away from the office. My normal routine was to make a sandwich or zap a frozen something and game on my computer for two hours. Turn based strategy games are my cocaine. I can still sometimes find myself at three in the morning taking one more turn. Today was different. For some reason, the thought of my empty house turned me off. I figured I would go to the local greasy spoon and let someone else cook and clean the dishes.
I arrived at Marty's well before the main lunch crowd. Susan, the waitress that ran the counter service knew me by name. She was an older woman with a jovial smile. I think she may have been working at Marty's when I was in diapers. I envied her perceived happiness and wondered how she maintained it.
"Hi Tom, haven't seen you in a while." She gave me her grandmotherly greeting. You couldn't help but warm up to her.
"Got a new Civ game. I was busy trying to take over the world." I had made her privy to my passions over many conversations. For some reason I felt the need to have an excuse. She just had that type of personality. Someone you didn't want to disappoint.
"Well we kept your seat warm. What can I get you today?" Business first. I knew she wanted to get my order in before the place got crowded. She knew how to treat the regulars.
It wasn't long before I had a stacked reuben with fries in front of me. I grabbed one of the papers from the counter and tried to catch up on current events. I was distracted by a conversation Susan was having with a skinny girl down the counter. The girl sported a kind of punk look. The left side of her head was shaved to stubble and the rest was let to grow. There were two purple streaks that started about an inch from her scalp and ran to the ends on the long side of her brown hair. Her exposed ear sported a few more piercings than I thought attractive. She wore way too much mascara and her attire tended to the black. Looking at her structure, I thought there must be a really pissed off father somewhere. If you could ignore the costume, she was a very pretty girl in her early twenties.
The girl was trying to negotiate a meal out of Susan for four dollars. Looking at her more closely, I noticed that she did look a little emaciated. Susan was trying to tell her that half a sandwich and water was all that the four dollars would get her. The girl relented and handed over what looked like the last of her money. A rather sullen expression crossed her face.
In the past I never really felt sorry for nonconformists. They decided to look and act differently and paid for it with lower prospects. But, as I got older, I mellowed. People are people and we all have to find our way in the world. I may not agree with the girls choices but, she has the right to make them. Hell, I made many bad choices when I was young. Still make a few today. I fished in my wallet for ten bucks and signaled Susan for a coffee refill. When she came for my cup I leaned in and said as quietly as I could, "Get that girl a full meal." and I slipped her the ten.
Susan gave me that 'what are you a perv' look. "No, no. Just tell her the kitchen made a mistake. Don't tell her it was from me." I defended my honor the best I could. Susan smiled like a proud grandmother and nodded her head. I went back to my paper figuring I did my good deed for the day.
When the food arrived, I glanced over as Susan explained that the cook accidently made the full lunch basket instead of the the half sandwich. They didn't want to throw it away and certainly couldn't serve it someone else. It looked like the girl won the lottery. She had a pretty smile that didn't fit the rough image she tried to portray. She started eating like she hadn't had a good meal in a long time. I was pretty happy with myself. I settled up with Susan who smiled and winked at me then tilted her head to girl. I smiled and walked next door to the pharmacy to grab some blades and shaving cream.
When I exited the store the punk girl was waiting outside. "You bought me lunch. Didn't you?" She said in an accusatory fashion.
"I'm not sure what you're talking about." I feigned ignorance and continued to my car. This was a bit more intrusive than I desired. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea in the first place.
"I saw the waitress wink at you. The kitchen didn't make a mistake did it?" She seemed a bit angry. It came off insulting. Well, no good deed goes unpunished.
"Look, I'm sorry. You looked hungry. I guess I made a mistake." I made it to the car and opened the driver door. I figured a quick exit was in order.
"I don't need your charity. I don't need anyones charity." She was very angry and almost shouting. I was never good at getting yelled at. I have a tendency to get defensive and say stupid things that only inflame the situation. I whipped my bag of shaving supplies across the front seats and turned back to her.
