"Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Make the Yule time bright. From now on our troubles will be out of sight..."
Fuck Christmas! Fuck the holidays! What a kick in the fuckin teeth! The next fucking jerk off that spews the carbon copy "Merry Christmas" or "Happy holidays" bullshit out of their cock slurper to me, will likely get a two word response, and I don't mean "You too!"
From somewhere off to the east I could hear the refrains of the song, most likely from the ice rink in the plaza. The ice rink obviously full of happy assholes and whores all rubbing elbows and cocks and deluding themselves into believing that everything would be merry and bright. Fuck them too!
Christmas from now on won't be a joyous and happy time for me. It'll only serve to remind me of how my life totally fell apart in the span of a month. Perhaps a small part of me wished I could go back to being "Joe Clueless Fuck" that at the beginning of fall, and thought all would be merry and bright. But I think in the back of my mind, even then, I knew all was not what it appeared to be on the surface. Which lead me up to where I am right now. I was laying prone on a fourth story balcony of an apartment overlooking the front entrance to the Plaza Hotel and Convention Center. The tenants of the apartment had flown to New York for the holidays so I knew I wouldn't be disturbed. Two stories below mounted to another balcony rail was a large flash strobe that would illuminate the entire front of the hotel.
I looked through the viewfinder for the umpteenth time since I arrived an hour ago to be sure the lenses hadn't frosted or fogged up. The low light lens set up was well worth the money, for even at five hundred yards away, well five hundred fifteen to the furthest column, I could pick out detail of the wood grain on the columns supporting the overhand covering the front entrance. Everything was set, so all I had to do was wait for my wife of six years, and her boyfriend to leave their company Christmas party to go to the Value Inn for their post party tryst.
I am Martin Fischer. I am a 32 year old maintenance technician at a factory that builds railroad freight cars. I have worked at the factory for eight years. I started work there two days after I arrived here in Santa Fe. I came from Long Beach with the clothes on my back plus a few spares, and enough money to eat for a week, and keep fuel in my 2000 Harley Davidson Dyna Glide for a week's worth of job searching.
I had been at the plant for about two months as a welder, when a machine broke down and our regular maintenance guys weren't around. I spent about an hour tinkering with it and had it fixed and the assembly line running again. When the head of the maintenance department found out I was called into carpet land for an ass chewing. I was lectured for over an hour on the dangers of what I had done, and the OSHA implications. Just as I thought they were going to fire me, he asked if I had any experience repairing the kinds of machines and tools we had in house.
I told him I hadn't, but had always been able to figure things out by taking them apart. He then offered me a position in the maintenance department and sent me to a school for six months to learn how to work on the computer controlled equipment. When I was done with the training I was making about ten bucks an hour more than I had as a welder.
One of the first guys I met in the department was Jarred Walker. The guy knew every piece of equipment in the factor like the back of his hand. Usually when there was a problem in the office, Jarred was the one to handle it, unless it was plumbing or electrical, then it was my problem to deal with.
One day as Jarred and I as well as half of our staff of ten were working on a straddle crane that needed to be back online ASAFP, that's technical jargon for As Soon As Fucking Possible, we got a page from the office. I was the closest to a phone so I called up to see what the deal was. It seems that one of the new girls had managed to jam the copier so bad they couldn't clear it. Jarred was busy on the crane so I got to go fix the copier.
As I was working on the copier, on of the girls, a bleach blonde with large heavy boobs, came up and asked me why Jarred wasn't here. I told her what he was doing. Then she asked me, "We are having a party tonight for one of the finance girls. If you're not too busy would you like to come?"
"Where is this party?"
"Do you know where the Slammer Saloon is?"
"I think I do. What time?"
"Be there at 8:00, and tell Jarred to come too."
"Will do!" I said trying to sound enthused. The last thing I really wanted to do on a Friday night was hang around this bunch of stuck up cunts. Oh well, what's a guy to do? Maybe one of them would get drunk at least be entertaining.
I pulled my Harley up to the bar at a quarter 'til eight and went in. I didn't recognize a single motherfucker in the place and figured I'd been conned. Five minutes later a few of the girls walked in. By eight the entire office was there. Most I had seen around and some I hadn't. Some of the married girls brought their husbands, and a couple had removed their wedding rings, cheating whores. At least I knew who to avoid now.
Jarred got there about twenty minutes late and made a bee line for the bar. He ordered a drink and like me, put his back to the bar and watched the crowd. "Seen anything interesting yet?"
"Not really. It seems to me that they're the same self-important assholes here as they are at work."
No sooner had I said that, and then Bob Jenkins from finance came over to us.
"I didn't know any floor personnel had been invited to this." He said as he glanced nervously at me. Most people look nervously at me though. I stand just a shade over six feet tall and weigh over two hundred pounds. I wore my brown hair about half way down my back and wore a full beard. Most guys who knew me said that I fit well on my bike.
"Holly invited us." said Jarred. He knew most of these assholes; I had never taken the time to learn their names. I knew Tara Bennet, since she handled all things human resource related, and I knew Lou Graham the plant manger, and that was about the extent of my office acquaintances.
Jarred's answer seemed to satisfy Bob and he went back to the crowd. Blonde with boobs, Holly I guess was her name, soon came over to lure us closer to the rest of them. I sat there for a while listening to all of the office gossip and feeling as out of place as a reggae band at a Klan meeting. I intended to finish the beer I was drinking and then split.
The whole bunch applauded just then, as if they had read my thoughts and was ecstatic. I looked toward the door to see what they were looking at.
I'd never really considered the concept of "love at first sight" as an actual phenomenon, but I experienced something akin to it right then. She looked like a green eyed version of Sandra Bullock. Even her body matched Sandra's. My heart sunk when I saw the complete dork she walked in with. He looked to be about three inches shorter than her and was pre-maturely balding. His glasses were only marginally shinier than his scalp and he just plain looked constipated. "Must be loaded and/or hung to get her," I thought to myself.
I took that moment to hit the head. I'd had enough beer by that point it was time to release some back into the wild. When I returned Sandra was perched in my seat gabbing with Jarred. This gave me the perfect opportunity to escape before the office brain death could affect me. I caught his eye and gestured that I was splitting. He saluted and laughed. She turned and saw me and watched as I headed out the door.
I got outside and walked to my bike. I had just sat down and put the key in and donned my bandana when a voice behind me said, "So I finally arrive at my going away party and you decide to go away?"
I turned to see Sandra looking at me quizzically. "Don't take it personal, I aint leavin' on your account. It's just not my type of crowd."
"How do you know I'm not your type of crowd?"
"First off, all of you Carpet Landers seem to have this attitude that those pieces of paper that say you spent four years and fifty thousand dollars to sit in a cushioned seat in an office means that you all see yourselves as better than those of us that get dirty in the line of duty. Second, you already seem to have enough company with you that I would just be the long haired outsider."
"So that's how it is." She sounded hurt.
"Look, I didn't mean to come off as an asshole. I just know how I feel being around that type of crowd. I hope you have a wonderful party and I wish you good luck with whatever is taking you away from the company."
I thumbed the starter button and the hog roared to life. I started pulling on my gloves when I noticed Sandra still was standing there. She arched an eyebrow, which made her look more adorable than demanding, and made a slashing motion across her throat so I killed the bike.
"I told Holly to invite you. I know you'll think I'm crazy, but when I saw you walk into the plant a couple of weeks ago, I just had to meet you. I was trying to figure out how to talk to you when the copier jammed today. When I saw that you were coming in to fix it I told Holly to invite you here tonight. Now I get here and the one person I wanted to talk to at this little shindig is leaving."
"You're forgetting something, or should I say someone." She looked at me funny. "Your boyfriend? The guy that you walked in with? Balding guy in the blue polo and glasses? Ringin' any bells?"
"Aaron? Oh no, he isn't my boyfriend. He's married to my cousin and works in Order Services. He and I just rode together tonight."
.... There is more of this story ...