a poem: "tide, cling-free, & unemployment"

His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without cling-free.

Like a fire breathing dragon wanting to break free from the castle, he blurted out with such nonsense…

Today would be the day he would finally propose an idea that could forever change the way he would be seen at the office.

Planning the most extravagant performance, he threw on a rumpled white dress shirt and drove his light gray Volvo to the parking garage where he parked in the same spot day to day.

Like a penguin slipping its belly over ice, he fell backward and spilled his entire cup of coffee on his rumpled white dress shirt.

Today, would in fact be the day, (Thomas who goes by Tom), will change everything. Not the way he does his laundry, but maybe bringing along a Tide To-Go Pen.

Remembering the “tough love” his mother would give him as a child, brought back the many memories of his failure to comprehend the universal rules of personal hygiene.

The bus would arrive promptly, yet he would arrive unpunctual.

He would then need to find a different way to get to school; a friend, family member, or maybe he would take up skateboarding.

Walking to the office was always his favorite time of the day, besides his favorite television show: Judge Judy, which he had made sure to record on the daily so he could “actively” participate within the cases.

The office always had a familiar yet peculiar smell.

The smell of copy machines, printer paper, and Sharpies filled the warm air as he whisked open the door.

The front desk consisted of chemically colored-haired women who solely survived off of Dunkin’ Donuts and the next episode release of Love Island.

Then the cubicles…all placed exactly 6 feet apart, yet not even far enough to keep yourself from smelling David, (the senior accountant…he always has Subway sandwiches for lunch every Tuesday but somehow only disposes of the evidence every Thursday).

Navigating his way through the cubicle maze, he finally reached the conference room where not only his boss was present but his boss's boss whose name was Lillian was there too.

Lillian had a bad reputation here at the office, but not because of what you would originally think.

Her reputation was so fried because of the way she would cackle after every single thing Joe, (Tom’s boss), would say.

The room wreaked of black coffee and Expo markers. Oh, and Lillian’s perfume.

All of the late nights spent at the dodgy cafe down the street from campus in 1996…and this is what Tom had to look forward to.

Lillian and Joe instantaneously locked their glance onto Tom.

He was late.

Again.