Midday before the project due date, Armond rapped on Victoria’s closed office door as he simultaneously popped his head in. Without waiting for her acknowledgment, Armond began, “Victoria, I would invite you to lunch, but I know it would put you in an uncomfortable position because you would understandably want to say yes to spend time with me, but you would be torn because you know you should say, ‘No Armond, I am just too busy.’ So I thought I would spare you the uneasiness of turning me down and simply not invite you. Don’t ever forget all that I do for you.”
Victoria could not believe the shit that was coming out of his mouth. She had a fleeting image of a nattily dressed little dung beetle happily stuffing its face with so much poop that some of it was squirting out. She began to laugh so hard that tears gathered in her eyes. Had she not been completely exhausted from working twenty-hour days for the past week, she probably would have been able to control herself. But she was quite unable to stop laughing.
Alarmed, Armond stepped all the way into Victoria’s office and shut the door. “What in the hell is wrong with you? You better not be cracking up on me already.”
“No, I’m fine. Really. I’m just a bit tired,” Victoria answered, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I barely slept for the past few nights and I think it just caught up to me.”
“Well, good. I don’t intend to bet on a one-trick pony and I have placed my bet on you, my girl, for the long run and the big leagues,” Armond said, visibly relieved.
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