little white lie

Dollars and Degrees

Fandango3 Comments

Dollars and degrees

“Dollars and degrees. That’s all you care about, you self-centered bastard,” she said before turning away from him and taking a large sip from her martini glass.

He took a swig of his beer. They were sitting next to one another at the bar of the Tomfoolery, a popular pub in the Foggy Bottom section of D.C. “It’s Wednesday night, Deb. You know I have that urban planning paper due for tomorrow night’s class. I really need to head back to my place to finish it up.”

“You’ll use any excuse to get up and leave me here by myself,” Debbie slurred. “I swear, you don’t give two shits about me. All you care about are dollars and degrees.”

He liked Debbie. She was attractive, reasonably bright, and quite accomplished in the sack. But he was working on his master’s degree at night while holding down a full-time job during the day. He was barely half way through his 50 credit-hour curriculum; completing his master’s program by the end of the following year was his highest priority.

“I think you’re a little drunk, Deb,” he responded, finishing up his beer.

“And I think you’re a selfish prick,” she snapped back.

He turned toward her and, affecting his most sincere, genuine manner, said, “I really do care about you, Debbie. I enjoy our time together. A lot, actually. But I have to finish this paper tonight. I’ll probably be up quite late and I have to be at work again by 8:30 in the morning. So even though I’d much rather stay here with you a little while longer and then head over to your place and spend the night, I’ve got to go.”

It was only a little white lie, he told himself.

She moved her bar stool closer to his, snuggled up next to him, and while running her hand up and down his inner thigh, whispered in a low, throaty voice, “I’d rather we head over to my place, too. We can both call in sick for work tomorrow.”

“I can’t,” he said, removing her hand from high up on his thigh. “I’m sorry, Deb, but I just can’t. Not tonight. I need to get this paper done.”

He stood up and retrieved his jacket and backpack from the hook beneath the bar. He leaned over toward Debbie and kissed her on her cheek. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, and headed for the door.

As he was leaving the pub he heard her yell after him. “Dollars and degrees, you fucker! That’s all that’s important to you. Dollars and degrees.”

A Masterpiece

Fandango19 Comments

IMG_2547

I lied. “Yes, I have repaired, resurfaced, and painted probably dozens of wrought iron fences like these.”

The estate’s property manager tilted his head down so he could see me clearly over his reading glasses. Then he glanced down at the written proposal I had given to him.

I needed the work. I’d been doing odd jobs ever since I got discharged from the army sixteen month earlier and some of them included repairing and painting fences. Wood fences. So it was just a little white lie.

“Check my references,” I said. All the names on the list were my army buddies who were willing to vouch for me even though I’d never done any handyman work for any of them.

“Fine,” he said. “If your references check out, you can start the day after tomorrow.”

It took me almost two weeks to complete the work, and the property manager told me that I had far exceeded his expectations. Then he told me the owner called my work “a masterpiece.”

(170 words)

Written for this week’s FFfAW challenge from Priceless Joy.