You have just completed your 300-page autobiography. Please submit page 217.
Hey guys, you wanna look over this and tell me what you think? Thanks.
217
...shook his head, sadly.
"Tim, you're fired."
While I was disappointed, I wasn't surprised. I suppose it didn't matter that I was high while I did it, raping his daughter wasn't a good career move. I lowered my eyes, looking to his feet.
"Can I at least keep the money?"
"What money?"
I guess he hadn't realized that I had embezzled more than $20,000 in the last few months. Shit.
"Tim, what money?"
I tried to look away again, pretending I hadn't said anything. He began to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth I pushed past him, out of the cubicle and into the hallway. This chapter of my life was closed.
CHAPTER XXVII
I figured I'd be okay. The office job was just a side job, anyway- peddling narcotics and small-time embezzlement got me most of the money I needed to support my habit, and I thought the landlord was too afraid of me to evict me. Not that the house was much anyway- my bed wasn't much more than a bunch of stuffing in the corner, and my refrigerator hadn't worked for weeks.
Settling down in the only rickety chair in the apartment, I tried to think. Should I take up a new job? I tried to brainstorm... what did I like to do? I scribbled my thoughts on a napkin, but surfing porn on the internet and insulting the people on the Jesus hotline weren't really marketable skills. I turned the napkin over. What could I do?
Again, I drew a blank. I hadn't done anything worthwhile with my life since I graduated UPenn with a Bachelors in Engineering eight years ago. Thinking about it now, I'm not even sure how I did that- most of the time I was high or passed out. It didn't hurt that I paid a kid with ex to take all my exams for me. That, and I the physics professor was a total junkie. Whatever.
After that, I did a brief stint at Market Basket, but was fired for pissing in the brownie mix when the baker ticked me off. I had a few years unemployment, was in the kicker for a couple months for assault and battery... nothing. I called my friend.
"Hey man, I'm in a bit of a hard place."
I explained that I'd been fired, and he started laughing.
"What the fuck dude, it's not fucking funny!"
His response was that I was the most pathetic person he knew. He started to say something about how my mother was more successful than me, selling knitted socks on the Internet, but I had had about enough. I threw the receiver against the wall. It cracked. Fuck. I had already known that I wasn't getting the security deposit back, but now I needed a new phone, too.
Hey guys, you wanna look over this and tell me what you think? Thanks.
217
...shook his head, sadly.
"Tim, you're fired."
While I was disappointed, I wasn't surprised. I suppose it didn't matter that I was high while I did it, raping his daughter wasn't a good career move. I lowered my eyes, looking to his feet.
"Can I at least keep the money?"
"What money?"
I guess he hadn't realized that I had embezzled more than $20,000 in the last few months. Shit.
"Tim, what money?"
I tried to look away again, pretending I hadn't said anything. He began to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth I pushed past him, out of the cubicle and into the hallway. This chapter of my life was closed.
CHAPTER XXVII
I figured I'd be okay. The office job was just a side job, anyway- peddling narcotics and small-time embezzlement got me most of the money I needed to support my habit, and I thought the landlord was too afraid of me to evict me. Not that the house was much anyway- my bed wasn't much more than a bunch of stuffing in the corner, and my refrigerator hadn't worked for weeks.
Settling down in the only rickety chair in the apartment, I tried to think. Should I take up a new job? I tried to brainstorm... what did I like to do? I scribbled my thoughts on a napkin, but surfing porn on the internet and insulting the people on the Jesus hotline weren't really marketable skills. I turned the napkin over. What could I do?
Again, I drew a blank. I hadn't done anything worthwhile with my life since I graduated UPenn with a Bachelors in Engineering eight years ago. Thinking about it now, I'm not even sure how I did that- most of the time I was high or passed out. It didn't hurt that I paid a kid with ex to take all my exams for me. That, and I the physics professor was a total junkie. Whatever.
After that, I did a brief stint at Market Basket, but was fired for pissing in the brownie mix when the baker ticked me off. I had a few years unemployment, was in the kicker for a couple months for assault and battery... nothing. I called my friend.
"Hey man, I'm in a bit of a hard place."
I explained that I'd been fired, and he started laughing.
"What the fuck dude, it's not fucking funny!"
His response was that I was the most pathetic person he knew. He started to say something about how my mother was more successful than me, selling knitted socks on the Internet, but I had had about enough. I threw the receiver against the wall. It cracked. Fuck. I had already known that I wasn't getting the security deposit back, but now I needed a new phone, too.
