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July 14, 2005

Volume 3, Issue 14

Overtime. Use the word or the concept.

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Tanya: Overtime

Elaine tapped on the closed door. Everyone else had gone home for the night, and she thought he might finally be available.

Randolph finished his email, then looked up and smiled. "Elaine. My admin told me you wanted to see me. Come in."

She moved toward his desk, removing her cardigan. He turned from the computer as she began unbuttoning her dress; watched it fall to the floor in a silky puddle. She stood that way for a moment, with only black stockings on her lightly-freckled skin, before straddling his lap. Not such a bad place to work, after all.

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Ted: A Little Vacation

Howard was very tired. He had been working twenty hours of overtime a week for months just to get this stupid project done. In his own head, that is what he called it: "this stupid project."

His wife was getting pissy, his kids were getting unmanageable, and his boss was breathing down his neck to get damn stupid project done.

It came as a surpise to no one, except the victim, when he ran over that panhandler on his way home. Just for a minute, he thought of running, but then considered the possibilty of time off and parked instead.

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Michele: Ashes to Ashes

Karla said she couldn’t stay for the 5am shift, but Ernie said tough. Ernie was the manager, goddamn it. He said, do the shift or get fired! and Karla scuttled off to the office in tears. Too damn bad. Lazy freaking kids.

At 5:30 a customer impatiently rang the bell. Where the fuck was Karla?

Ernie stalked into the office with a tirade on his lips, looking for Karla. His righteous anger balloon burst when he saw James crying over a pile of dust gathered in a stream of sunlight.

“She told you she couldn’t do the morning shift, man.”

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Stacy: In MY World

"I'm telling you, Joe, this overtime is bullshit. I can't take much more of it."

Joe sighed, rubbed his temples, wished he'd retired in '08. Ever since the institution of the hourly wage pay scale he'd had a splitting headache. Every single day the guys came into his office, whining about long hours, low pay, and the mandatory overtime.

He looked wearily across the desk. "Look, Jeter, you can play or not. There’s a dozen guys in the farm system, waiting for their chance."

Derek Jeter, former Yankee all-star, kicked over a trash can and flounced out of the room.

Read more from Stacy's .

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From the Comments: The Mighty Emu

The scene was chaotic: blood splattered over the windows, police sirens screaming. Sgt. Polowski kept his rifle low as he aimed through his scope at the gunman.

The body count was high in that little convenience store. Two punks out in front; the fat one was blown right through the head. The girlfriend lying in a red pool right in front of the door; the lasagna pan upturned next to her. He could see the perp holding a video store guy hostage.

As the sniper gently squeezed the trigger, the gunman yelled, “I’m not even supposed to be here today!”

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