Chapter 1: The Reunion

Ever had one of those days when you're on a roll, but your project just kept growing? I'd had an epiphany in the shower this morning: a simple search and compare program that should help with troubleshooting other programs. Sure the shower might not be the best place to think about things, but when your rent includes the cost of utilities there's really no harm in taking long showers, aside from your fingers looking like prunes. Plus, while the shower feels like hours usually it takes less than 15 minutes, the hot water is relaxing, I am able to let my mind drift, and usually solve or at least get a good start on most problems I identify.

At my job, work comes in waves and this is definitely the off season so I have plenty of free time to test out new ideas. I was still thinking about the program idea when I arrived at work this morning, it sounded so ridiculously simple that I naively thought it would only take a couple hours to code. Worst case scenario maybe the whole morning.

Yeah, that was ten-hours, four loops, six subroutines, and three Nalgenes ago. A few years back I'd sworn off coffee after noticing it caused my hands to shake. However, I liked taking breaks and having something to drink nearby so I keep a 32 oz. Nalgene water bottle on my desk. While water isn't exactly a diuretic like the caffeine in coffee, which actually makes you pee more, I still had to take several extended piss breaks due to the sheer volume consumed. Then again if the whole point was to try and give my over-worked brain a break, then maybe the Nalgene was doing its job perfectly.

Rubbing my eyes in frustration I leaned back in my chair and tried to stretch some of the kinks out of my back. Resting my elbows on the arm rests I began rocking in my chair starring at the code on the screen, occasionally leaning forward to page down. After years of coding I have little trouble reading its case-sensitive, semicolon delimited text. However, deep down I know that at its core understanding PERL is no different than any other logic based computer language: you just have to think like an engineer, pretending to think like a computer, while writing a language to be spoken by idiots.

That's it, my brain is fried and I'm officially cranky. Checking my watch I notice it's after seven, which means the convenience store in the basement is closed for the night. Damn. Well, at least the vending machines are still on and open for business.

Grumbling I stood up, stretched the remaining kinds out of my back, grabbed my badge, opened my door and began searching for something to munch on. In the hall I'm faced with a dilemma: To my left is the shortest path to the elevator and sugar induced bliss; to my right is the bathroom and instant release for the throbbing pressure in my bladder that wasn't all that noticeable until I stood up and had been slowly building ever since.

Heading to the right I began making my way down the hall. You know you're at the right job when you realize that at 7 PM on a Friday night you have the entire building almost completely to yourself and no one is asking, or really wanting, you to stay late. Sure, I could just head home, but right now I'm so close I can practically taste it and if I left there's no way I would sleep well all weekend because I'd be thinking about all the things I could have tried if I'd just stayed another 15 minutes. Plus, it's not like I had any significant other to come home to, no pets, practically no commitments at all and that's how I liked it.

Nearing the end of the hall I paused in front of the last office. Subconsciously, I realized that while no one was inside, last week it was completely empty, but the lights haven't automatically turned off yet, and the user is still logged on to their computer. Consciously my eyes are riveted to the painting of a jazz pianist's outline in flamboyant (think neon) colors hanging on the wall. The company is good about hanging personal artwork for you so the fact that the person has an actual painting hanging on their wall isn't unusual.

What is unusual is that I've seen a painting that looked identical hanging in Helen's apartment; a woman I'd very much like to see again. It was several years ago but we'd both worked as research assistants and used to meet up for lunch. On her last day of work before heading off to get a PhD in Economics she invited me over for dinner. It was a night I won't soon forget, and desperately wished to repeat, but unfortunately never had another opportunity. We still touch base every now and then but lately our lives drifted in different directions. However, one thing is crystal clear: the last time I saw that painting it was hanging above her desk, its vibrant colors flashing in the candle light.

Finally, one additional fact caught my attention: the picture was hung crooked. Now, when maintenance hangs picture for you, knowing most economists are anal retentive, they use a tool to make sure it hangs perfectly level and then stand back and double check just to be sure.

With a mental shrug, and caving in to the urgent demands from my bladder, I headed around the corner and into the bathroom. For perhaps the millionth time I pondered the excess of having a marble bathroom. True the marble prevented most forms of graffiti (people were quick to learn that pencil showed up remarkably well but your bathroom musings were apt to get edited and twisted later on) and was probably much more durable, but the initial costs must have been enormous. I took comfort from the fact that any company willing to invest that kind of money in its bathrooms probably would be around for a while. Either that or it was going to go under pretty soon and I might as well enjoy it while I could.

With a minute or so to kill and no pencil handy I decided to let my mind wonder. Not surprisingly my thoughts drifted to Helen. It has been about a month since I last heard from her but that wasn't too unusual especially as this was probably the end of her semester, which is the busiest time of the year. Still, I decided that if I didn't hear from her by the end of the week I would give her a call.

Finishing, I washed up before heading for the door. Phase one of my mission accomplished; it was time to begin my search for a candy bar. With this objective firmly in mind, and the fact that it was after 7 on a Friday night, I wasn't really paying attention as I opened the door and heading out into the hall.

And that when it hit me, literally. I'd just stepped into the hall when I caught the hint of movement to my left just before I slammed into something. Note, I'm usually much more nimble but I obviously wasn't expecting anything to be there and when you're over 6'5" coordination is rather iffy even on a good day. Toss in a full day of computer programming and you're just a train wreck waiting to happen. The good news though is that my body has learned to instinctively react to these momentary lapses in balance and so even after careening off at least two walls I was able to right myself without crashing completely to the floor.

Unfortunately the other person wasn't quite so lucky and was currently sprawled out on their side in the middle of the hall. Taking a few seconds to recover I noticed some very important details: the other person was a she, she was wearing a skirt, said skirt had crept up remarkably high up during her fall, and she had a set of the most gorgeous, naturally tanned, legs I had ever seen.

Under the guise of trying to recover from my own impact I couldn't help checking her out. As my eyes slowly made their way up her body I noticed that her blouse had crept up slightly as well and that her nicely curved hips transitioned to a smooth stomach and an adorable inny belly button.

It wasn't until my eyes finally made their way up to her head and her shoulder length brown hair, so dark that in most lights it looked black, and a face that reflected the most beautiful characteristics of her Chinese heritage that I got the biggest shock of all. While she was currently sprawled out facing away from me, I'd recognize that profile anywhere.

It was Helen! Crap! My mind was instantly in turmoil. Questions like 'Where the hell did she come from?' battled it with sarcastic thoughts like 'Talk about one smashing reunion.' In the end I decided that leaning against the wall looking stunned probably wasn't the best reaction.

Crouching down by her side I gently nudged her shoulder and asked, "Helen, are you okay?"

With a groan she rolled onto her back. I took this, and the fact that she was breathing, to be a good sign. However, the act of rolling over somehow caused her skirt to creep up even farther to the point where it must be just millimeters from her panties. I have always admired the shape and curves of a woman's body, especially well toned legs, and Helen had one of the best pairs around.

Noticing more of a response I tore my attention away from the view and watched as her eyes fluttered open.

"Wha... ?" she asked weakly, her deep brown eyes still looking a bit dazed.

"Shhhh, it's okay," I soothed as her eyes slowly came into focus.

"Charles, is that you?" she asked while craning her neck towards me with a shocked look on her face.

Meekly, I nodded. Then, because I couldn't hold it back any longer I blurted out, "Looks like you've fallen for me all over again."

With a groan she once again shut her eyes and let her head drop back to the floor. She mumbled something along the way and I could have sworn she said, "We weren't supposed to meet like this."

Then, with more heat, she said, "Man, my ass hurts," while massaging her hip.

Somehow, I realized that 'want me to kiss it and make it better' just might not be the best response and, sensing now was the time for an apology I offered, "Hey sorry for running you over. Is there anything I can do to help?"

As her eyes twitched open I caught a hint of the mischievous twinkle I remembered all too well as she replied, "I can think of a few things," before taking a deep breath and finishing with, "but give me a minute to recover."