The Insurance of Daydreaming

"Hold the door, will you?"

She gave me a look that could have fried an egg. Then, with a sickeningly sweet smile, she waited until I was inches away before shutting it in my face.

Describing Alicia Gray as a meany-head was not going to cut it. I muttered choice curse words that would have my grandmother rolling in her grave and struggled to grabble the doorknob whilst holding the box full of junk and things and stuff that used to occupy my office.

An office that Miss Jerk Face In all Capitols was all so willing to occupy now that I was fired. 

Well...

Technically, I quit.

Technically, I also managed to speak faster than my boss so that I could get out on my own terms. It's important to have control of your life, you know?

It's really not my fault the woman, my red-headed customer, mumbled as she barked for a glass of wine in this inconsiderate hovel of an insurance company. I swear on the grave of said grandmother that I quite clearly heard, "I'm a rude and irritating person who really needs a nice wake-up call to the real world where the universe doesn't surround me."

Funny how things sound when you mumble.

And, I mean, seriously? Who asks for wine while talking about insurance? What is this, England?

No. Wait, they do tea.

Is it Ireland where they're supposed to drink a lot?

I don't know. Whatever. She sounded Cockney anyway.

I bumped out of the insurance company into the bright shining sun and oh, did it feel so good. California sun had never been better and life never clearer.

I was free! Free to hunt dragons and fight crime and watch the final season of Lost!

I shifted the cardboard box in my grip and cast a former inmate a smile that was supposed to be witheringly cheery. She blinked at me, looking simply prehistoric. I think people started to petrify when they worked in that building for too long.

I passed by a company car that I could no longer use.

Going to have to get a bus...

I grinned. No matter! That car was an ugly son of a gun anyway!

I shall be victorious! The victorious commuter! The valiant traveler of public transport! All will be well in the world!

"Are you even listening?"

I suddenly jump out of my thoughts at the sound of my red-headed customer's nasal voice.

She still wants some wine; wine I don't have because this is a ruddy insurance company, not the White House.

Maybe I should actually put her in her place rather that just...

I smile serenely and lay my hands flat on my desk. "I'm sorry, I was up rather late last night. Now, did you say house or car insurance?"