Smoke Break

Part 1

Normally we’d wrap up at the office before seven at night, but Christa wants us to make our new years eve vows together in order to stay accountable. My boss thinks that this is a great idea. She’s such a suck up.

“I vow to be a better representative of this company.”

“I resolve to quit smoking cold turkey.”

“I want to get a girlfriend.”

My boss looks at me. “How about you Christa?”

I hold back a sigh. “I want to be somewhere. Anywhere. But here.”

I walk out of the room.

Shawn follows me. His name is stupid, generic, and exhausting. But then again, so is mine. I guess that’s what makes us look good together-we have nothing to offer this godforsaken world.

“That thing you said about quitting smoking? In a year? Both of us know that that’s not going to happen.”

Even now, he smells like cigarettes. Disgusting. Shawn looks like a puppy with its tail between its legs. “Well, I thought that it would be worth the try.”

“Try all you want-you’re still gonna die from the tar in your lungs.”

“Someone is in a mood today.” We look at another office building across the street. It looks exactly like ours, which is proof of how replaceable I am.

“Someone is in a mood today, I said.”

“Yeah? And do you blame me?”

“One hundred percent.”

My boss looks at me. I stare straight back at him, and after a while, it makes him uncomfortable. It’s funny to watch. 

“You know, if you hate your job that much, I can change your position. I don’t want any of my workers to dread coming here.” His gaze is empathetic.

“It’s not working that I hate. It’s living. I thought you knew that.”

He scratches his head. “That’s.. Not as fixable.”

“I never said it was.”

I walk outside, heading to the pub for another drink.

Part 2

“You’re here again?”

I down my second scotch in two minutes.

“You know, I appreciate you being a good customer, but I can’t help thinking that something must be..”

He looks to me for help.

Jesus Christ.

“Wrong?” I finish for him. He’s so lame.

“Yeah… Wrong.”

That pause scares me. People who can’t finish their own sentences unnerve me.

I turn back to the drink. What’s left of it anyway, which isn’t much. God, I hate my life. “Hey boy, can you refill this for me?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Chr-”

“Either I consult you, or I leave a rage review on Yelp. It’s entirely your choice.”

He sighs, knowing perfectly well that people like me are the make or break parts of his lousy career. He hands me a third glass and cares for someone else. Good riddance.

I stare at what’s in front of me. I see whiskey, beautiful, brown, sparkling whiskey. And.. Shawn?

What the hell is he doing here?

“Oh my god, I hate my life.”

Shawn smiles soberly at me. “Christa, that’s the fifth time you’ve said that to me.”

“I heard that brocohol is hood for the ain.” I glug down the whiskey.

“Can you?...” Shawn is about ready to cry. Suck-ass. 

“Hmmmmm? I can’t heeeaaaaar you.” I put my hand to my ear and lean forward. I slump into a sad, miserable pile on the bar table.

Shawn takes a seat beside me. He starts again. Ugh. So annoying. “Can you please…”

“Please what, Shawn? Stop pooping on my lawn.”

“I didn’t..” Shawn sighs. “Just-”

“You’re so lame, Shaaawwwwwn.”

“Stop?”

I giggle and slap the empty glass to the floor. When did that happen? The glass breaks, and the bartender rushes to clean it up before someone steps on it, namely me.

“What, Shaaaawn? You think that life is just Disneylaaaand?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Shawn holds his hand out, expecting me to take it. I puke on the glass, step on the glass, and limp over to him and take his hand. He keeps me in tow as we head to his car.

Part 3

“You must be insane.” A woman who’s in charge of the ticket line takes one look at me before firing off at Shawn. “This is a kids park. If you want to get boozed up and party, go to Six Flags. I’m not letting someone like you into Disneyland.

“She really needs it, okay?”

“And you’re a bad friend. Why did you even let her get into this state. Oh goodness gracious me. She’s drooling.

“She’s just a little blue. She hates her job, wants to die, and wants to ‘quit everything’ for her New Year’s resolution. I thought you weren’t open on holidays.”

“Bruh. We’re motherfucking Disneyland.”

“O-kay. That isn’t my point.”

“Then what is?”

Shawn sighs. I can tell he’s about to fire off something really inspirational.

“I feel for this girl. Did you ask for her name? You didn’t, so I’ll tell you. Her name is Christa. She has a long face all the time, and she’s just looking for a world that needs her. She loves kittens and Anime, and she always wears a ratty old hoodie over her other clothes when the boss isn’t looking. She adores Hong Kong cinema. I know how wasted she looks. And I know how crazy you must think I am for wanting to take her into a kids park. But she just needs one thing to hope for, and you know what she told me earlier today? ‘Life isn’t Disneyland, Shawn.’ I’m Shawn by the way, if you couldn’t put the two together.” The woman raises her eyebrows at him, and Shawn keeps going. “I want to show her what true love feels like. I want her to know…” Shawn gets choked up. “That life is Disneyland.

The woman gets it. She closes her eyes and puts her hand over her heart. She daps at a tear in her eye from her eye. Then she opens her eyes, putting her hands on her hips.

“Bruh.”

“So is that a yes?”

She shakes her head. “We’re motherfucking Disneyland.”