Day 4 of 16 – Writer’s Digest Writing Prompt Bootcamp
You’re at work and you print something personal. Unfortunately, you’ve sent it to the wrong printer and, by the time you realize it, somebody else has already scooped it up.
Oh boy, it’s going to be a long day. It’s already been a long week. I have so much to do today, but I really need to get this letter typed up and faxed to the doctor. These symptoms have been horrible and getting worse. He asked me to write a timeline of what has been going on so I’ll do that before I start working. It’s times like these when I realize I need to splurge on a home computer.
Dear Doctor Applegate,
On Saturday, July 11, noticed a foul smell emanating from anus. Day 2, brown liquid produced post bowel movement and problem with urination. Wednesday, July 15, lesions and redness on face and legs accompanied with terrible itching.
Please give me a call in the office as soon as you can. As you can imagine, I am a bit concerned.
I sent it off to the printer. It’s so irritating that I have to walk down the hall to retrieve my printed items. I inquired several times as to why I can’t have my own. The answer is always, “it’s not in the budget.” Yeah, sure it’s not. I’ll bet those trips in the corporate jet isn’t in the budget either, but that doesn’t stop you.
I make the stroll down, stopping for a sip of water from the fountain. As I approach the printer, I don’t see my document. I look on the floor, behind it, next to it. I check to see if it is jammed. That’s when it dawned on me that it was sent to the wrong printer.
Crap! I run around the corner toward the other printer and who do I see? That jerk-face Bob standing there with his comrades. He’s holding a piece of paper and they are all laughing. He looks up at me and yells across the floor, “smelly ass there, huh Patsy?” He’s such a jackass.
I ran to him and tried to grab at my print-out. I suddenly felt 13 again when Davey Jones (not that one) would torment me and my “4 eyes.” I gave up and turn to go back to my desk. There’s no point in trying to fix Stupid.
I wasn’t there for but a minute, when my phone rings. It’s Dr. Applegate telling me that Rocky had a good case of Anal Sac Disease and Mange. Gross. Don’t know how that happened. Must be that new dog next door he seems to be enamored with. Luckily, after a few days of meds he’ll be good as new. Thank God.
As for jackass Bob, I believe he needs a taste of his own medicine. In the form of a large dose of Ex-Lax in his morning coffee tomorrow. I think I’ll pull a chair up near the bathroom. This is going to be better than having front row seats at the circus. Bring it on you clown.