The Bus Ride to the Beach

Part of a short story collection Aaron is writing.  Enjoy!

John Dudley got out of the bed in his house at seven o’clock in the morning.  It was mid-June and the rising sun was clearing the mountains to the east.  The heat was slowly burning off the droplets of dew that covered the outer farmlands and vineyards, and the moisture evaporated from off the blades of grass on the lawns of homes in the small town of Healdsburg, California – population 11,000.  John cooked three duck eggs in a cast iron pot as his coffee steeped in a French press.  He fed his little bulldog and thought about how he would very much like a lady friend or two that he could have occasional sex with.

“You’re supposed to help me get the ladies, pal,” he said to his dog as it ate.  “I wish you were still a puppy, you got lots of attention when you were a puppy.”

John sat down and ate and then said to his dog, “We’ll give it a shot this weekend buddy, we’ll go to the beach.”  His dog paid him no mind. 

            John put on his jacket and stepped toward the door.   The little bulldog trotted after him and received one last good scratching before John left for work. 

            John was a tall and handsome fellow.   He was fairly shy and easily sidetracked, therefore he was rarely able to enter and sustain a relationship with a girl for very long.  John worked as a surgical technician at a hospital in Santa Rosa – a larger town about fifteen miles south of Healdsburg.  Five days a week he commuted by bus to Santa Rosa, and as he stepped past the cafes and stores that lined the quaint downtown thoroughfare, he waved to some of the vendors and shopkeepers that he knew.  The sun was striking the oak trees and their deep green leaves in the town square.  John approached the bus stop and with a smile he nodded to the two other people, a man and a woman, whom were also waiting for the bus.  The man (who was sitting on the bench) and the woman (who was standing beside the bus stop sign) were not a couple, and John had exchanged few words with them since he first began riding the bus to work a couple months ago. 

            The man was fat and worked at a bank in Santa Rosa – John knew this because he had been to the bank and saw him sitting at a desk there.  He remembered the instance because John thought that, at the time, the man looked like he was masturbating right there at the desk, but he couldn’t be sure.  The woman must have worked for some company in a business office because she always wore fancy clothes and today she was wearing heels.  She was quite attractive, and John guessed that she was in her mid-forties and he considered her a cougar.  She never looked very happy and John figured her to be in a relationship, for he had seen her in town twice with the same man.

            John sat down next to the fat man who did not make an effort to move over.   The fat man checked his watch.  It was 7:15am and the bus was expected to arrive at any moment.  The bus had only been late on a few occasions, and these delays could be attributed to accidents or inclimate weather; otherwise the weekday bus was always punctual and the driver was a sound man.  So John, the banker, and the cougar waited there at the bus stop as the sun rode up higher over the mountains to the east and the sunlight saturated all the town and beyond.

“Tom’s running late today,” said the fat man.

“Oh yeah?” said John, not quite sure who the fat man was talking to.

The fat man looked at his watch again.  “He’s usually here at least seven minutes before now, we’re usually on the 101 by now.”

“I see,” said John, who was not concerned about the bus being late.  “Well I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

The woman spoke up, “I hope there wasn’t an accident.”

Both John and the banker looked at her.  She was holding her purse against her chest and was fiddling with her phone. 

“We can only hope not, or else we’ll be late,” said the banker.

Jesus Christ, thought John.  These were the first sentences beyond perfunctory greetings and farewells that he’d ever heard these two people speak.  He had determined that he disliked the fat man, and hoped that the bus would never come.

The woman said, “Well I hope everyone’s okay.”  John felt that she was making all this sound fairly dramatic, and he began to like her less too, but allowed her some leniency on account of her being a cougar.

“I’m sure everyone’s going to be okay,” said John, immediately regretting having made the remark.  The woman was on her phone and hadn’t heard what John had said, though the banker did and he chose not to respond, and instead leaned forward in his seat to peer down the road for the bus. 

The woman spoke into the phone, saying, “Hi Charlie, sorry to wake you, it’s Linda.”

Charlie, John thought, so that must be the guy I saw that she’s fucking all over town– although he couldn’t be certain about either of these points.  

She continued talking and said, “Can you check to see if there was an accident on the 101, the bus is running unusually late today.”

Why did she call him to check, John wondered, why didn’t she just call the transit hotline?  As he was wondering these things, the woman said, “Oh, nevermind Charlie, I see it coming.”  And John and the banker gazed down the street and watched the approaching bus. 

            The bus was a small one, like a minibus that retarded kids took to school.  It was painted white and blue and on the side of the bus, in big lettering, it read Sonoma County Transit.  The bus seemed to be traveling faster than normal and John figured that the driver was trying to make up for lost time.  It stopped shortly after the bus pad and through the tinted windows John could see that there appeared to be fewer people than usual seated inside the bus – he counted four people, when there were usually around ten.

            The bus door swung open and the cougar stepped on first, followed by the banker and then John.  While paying his fare John looked to the driver, Tom, who had a silly grin on his face and there were beads of sweat dispersed like spores across his forehead.

“How are you?” asked John as he was fumbling for some more coins.

Tom replied excitedly, “Terrific – now much did you put in there?  Fifty-five cents?  That’s good enough for today – have a seat young man, T minus three.”

Tom pressed a button on the dashboard and the bus door closed, and before John could respond or sit down, Tom pushed his foot down on the petal and the bus sped forth.  John swung around and fell back into a seat near the front of the bus. 

            The bus was traveling fairly fast through town, certainly faster than the speed limit.  No one on the bus seemed to mind, but the folks in the back whom had boarded prior to Healdsburg all had subtle grins on their faces – as though they were in on something.  The bus entered the southbound onramp to the freeway.  The intercom crackled and Tom made an announcement.  He was breathing heavily into the microphone and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you who are just joining us, I would like to congratulate you for riding the bus today.”  The passengers could see the wide smile on Tom’s face reflected in the rear view mirror.  “Today is my last day a bus driver, and to celebrate, I’ve decided to change our route…” 

John, the banker, and the cougar were equally perplexed, and the passengers in the back of the bus were smiling.  Over the intercom Tom said, “we’re not going to Santa Rosa today folks.  We’re not going to work.  Today, we’re going to the beach!”

The bus was barreling down the 101 and the morning was heating up. 

“Are you crazy!” yelled the banker.   “I’ve got to go to work!  We’re already late, and I’ve got to go to work!  You’re taking me to Santa Rosa, Goddamnit!”

Tom replied, “Now now, you just listen here, I’ve made up my mind.  Today’s my retirement day, and we’re not going to Santa Rosa, we’re going to the beach.”

Someone in the back of the bus cheered and a couple other people were laughing.

In protest, the banker yelled, “No, goddamnit!  We’re not going to the beach!  Have you lost your mind Tom?  You can’t do this to us!  We have to go to work!”

John was sitting across from the banker and was unsure about this spontaneous trip.  The banker was angering him though, and was not making a very convincing argument against going to the beach.

“I don’t have to go to work.”  All heads turned to the cougar.  She spoke up louder, “I don’t have to go to work today, Tom.  I’ll go to the beach with you, it’s going to be a beautiful day.  And congratulations on your retirement.”

“That’s the spirit!” said Tom.

From the back a man said, “It’s going to be sensational.  We’re probably going to make the evening news!”

“This is treason!” the banker shouted.  He was repeatedly pulling the cord to stop the bus, causing the stop requested sign to illuminate and go ding-ding-ding.  He yelled, “Go to hell, Tom!  Go to hell!  Now you listen to me, you’re taking me to work you son of a bitch!” 

An older woman in the back admonished the banker, “Watch your language!  Where are your manners?”

“Manners?!”  The banker was flabbergasted.  “Manners?  What hell are you talking about?  Are you insane woman?  This bus is supposed to take us to Santa Rosa.  This is illegal!  I can sue him!” 

“Oh, shut up,” said John.  He was tired of the banker’s bitching and moaning, and he wanted to go to the beach. 

The banker snapped his head toward John and said, “excuse me?”

“Just shut the fuck up for once,” John said, “we’re going to the beach.”

 The banker was dumbfounded and felt that the other passengers were teaming up against him.   The bus was still on the highway, moving alongside the legions of commuters.  Santa Rosa was ten miles away.  The normal bus route included one additional stop to pick up more passengers before arriving in Santa Rosa.

“This is illegal, what he’s doing,” said the banker.

“So what?” said John, “it’s his last day.”

The banker pulled out his cell phone and spoke up, “Tom, I’m warning you, I’m going to call the police.”

“The police?” said Tom from the drivers seat, “now why would you call the police?” 

“Because, we’re going to beach!” yelled the banker, “you’re supposed to take me to work!”

“I told you,” said Tom, “we’re not going to work today.  We’re going to the beach, by golly!”  Tom had exited the freeway to make another stop and the bus now maneuvered through a small town, traveling on its designated route thus far.

The fat banker held up his phone and said, “Then you leave me no choice.”   He started to dial.

“Put the fucking phone down,” said John.

The banker ignored him and continued dialing, and John leapt out of his seat and snatched the phone away from the fat man.

“Hey!” yelled the banker.

“You are not calling the cops.”

“Give me back my phone!”

“No.”

“Give it!”

“No!”

The banker lurched up out of his seat and attempted to tackle John.  John quickly stepped to the left and shoved the banker who then tumbled down to the floor.  As the banker was struggling to rise up in the aisle John dropped to his knees and manhandled him.

“Get off me you son of a bitch!  Oww!  OWWW!”

“Take it easy back there,” Tom said over the intercom, “no fighting on the bus, now.”

The cougar looked at them and said, “There’s no need for that.”

John kept his weight on the banker, who was splayed out on the floor and struggling to push himself up.  He began flapping his arms about in attempt to strike John who forced more of his weight upon the screaming banker.

John whispered, “shhhh, shhhh, shhh” as though he were some sort of professional killer.

“There’s no need for that, let up on him,” said the cougar.

A man from the back of the bus tried to intervene, and like a referee he knelt down beside John and the banker and made sure John wasn’t hurting the fat man too much, “easy now,” he said, “easy now.”

The bus was slowing down in a residential area to make a stop.  Standing at the bus platform was one person – a young, beautiful lady whom John had seen many times before but had never spoken with.   She was wearing gym clothes and carrying a bag with a rolled-up yoga mat poking out of it.  The young woman stepped onto the bus and was greeted by Tom’s huge grin and all the passengers on the bus were looking at her, including John and the banker he was restraining in the aisle.

“Call the police!” screamed the banker.

“Quiet you!” yelled John.

The young lady glanced around and then looked to Tom.  

“Hi Brittany,” said Tom.

“What’s going on here, Tom?” 

“We’re going to the beach.  Do you want to go to the beach?”

“The beach?”

“It’s going to be sensational.”

“I have to go to my yoga class.  Aren’t you going to Santa Rosa?” 

Tom said, “No, we’re going to the beach.”

Brittany began to step back off the bus, “I can’t, I have to go to work later.”

“Suit yourself,” said Tom.  “Today’s my last day as a bus driver, and we’re all going to the beach.  The next bus should be here in about an hour.  Goodbye Brittany!”

Brittany stepped off the bus and Tom pressed the button to close the door, he turned on his blinker and began driving off the turnout and onto the road.  Soon after, a passenger at the back of the bus yelled, “She’s coming! She’s coming!”  And indeed, the young lady was running toward the bus.  Tom stopped the bus on the roadside and opened the door.  Brittany stood outside the idling bus and was panting, “Goddamnit Tom, are you going to take us back?”

Tom said, “Yeah, well sure… I hadn’t thought about that, but yeah, why the heck not?  I’ll bring you back… I’ll bring everyone back!”

Many of the people on the bus cheered upon this declaration.  Even the subdued banker felt a slight sense of relief.  Brittany stepped onto the bus and received smiles and greetings from many of the passengers – passengers who would normally be buried in books or newspapers or toying with their mobile devices – and as she boarded some of them applauded.  She sat down near the front of the bus and was looking at John pinning down the banker.  The bus was on the move again and Brittany said, “I didn’t even bring my bathing suit.”  This comment was directed toward Tom, but John interjected, saying, “It’s okay, none of us did.”

“I wish we had towels,” she said.

“We can get some towels.” 

“And some beer,” said Brittany.

“It’s eight o’clock in the morning!” shouted the banker from underneath John.

“That’s a great idea,” said John, “we’ll find a place along the way to get some.”

“Why are you holding him down like that?” asked Brittany.

John looked at the banker who was glaring back at him.

“Because he was going to call the cops.”

“But it looks like you’re hurting him.”

The banker said, “He is hurting me!  Owww!!”

John felt uncomfortable and tighten his grip on the fat man’s arm and said, “Well…Well you’re hurting me!”

“Get off of me!”

“Okay, fine, but you can’t call the cops.”

John let the fat man up and they both moved back to their seats.  The fat man rubbed his wrists and stared coldly at John.  Sweat soaked through his shirt from his arm pits.  The bus continued west, toward the coast – passing cow pastures and verdant hills and the colorful landscape swirled around them in beneath the bright June sky. 

“Give me back my phone,” demanded the banker.

“No.”

“Goddamn you.  Look, I have to call my work and tell them I won’t be coming in today.”

John thought about this.  “I’ll call them for you.”

“No!”

“Listen,” said John, “I don’t trust you.  I’ll call them for you.”

“But I get to talk.”

“What are you gong to tell them?”

“I’m going to say that I’m sick and that I can’t come in today.”

“Fine.”

All the people on the bus, including Tom the driver, were watching the exchange between John and the banker.  John had decided to use his own cell phone to call the banker’s work, and agreed to hold up the phone the banker’s ear so that he could communicate with those on the other end of the line.   The banker told John the number to dial and once it started to ring John held the phone up to the banker’s ear.

The banker said, “Hi, this is Dennis, is Marjorie there?”

There was a moment of waiting and then the banker spoke again, “Hi Marjorie, it’s Dennis, I’m not going to be able to come into work today because THE BUS HAS BEEN HIJACKED AND A CRAZY GUY STOLE MY PHONE!!! HELP! HELP! ---”  John pulled the phone away and shook his head at Dennis. 

John spoke quickly into the phone, “Hi Marjorie.  Ha ha ha, what’d a kidder.  This is Dennis’s friend, John.  Sorry about that.  Dennis is very sick today.  He’s sick in the head and has diarrhea and herpes and is far too fat to come into work today.  I’m going to take him to the doctor so that he can get some liposuction and a lobotomy.  Goodbye.”

John hung up the phone and glared at Dennis, saying, “you fat, lying piece of shit.”

Dennis hung his head in shame and mumbled something about how he had to go to work today.  His phone rang in John’s pocket – it was presumably Marjorie or someone else from the bank where Dennis worked – and John took the phone out of his pocket and simply turned it off.  The bus rode on and the road veered through the dry valleys covered in shrubs and wheat, the golden hills shimmering against the backdrop of the light blue sky.  The air grew cool as they neared the coast.

John introduced himself to Brittany and asked her, “So when was the last time you went to the beach.”

“I went yesterday.  What about you?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s been a couple weeks.  I have a little bulldog named Messi, and I was planning to take him to the beach this weekend.”

“That’s cute,” she said, “Do you have a picture of him?”

“No, but…no I don’t.”

“Oh, okay,” she said.

Their conversation ended there, and as the bus passed over another giant hill the vast ocean swung into view.  It consumed the whole world to the west and Tom said, “there she is Ladies and Gentlemen, the great Pacific Ocean!”

The bus carried on downhill and began traveling north, parallel to the coast, and onboard all the passengers gazed toward the magnificent ocean in awe of the beauty of the flowing waves and the immense volume of sparkling water.

The passengers who were talking to each other fell silent as the bus radio crackled, and the stern voice of woman on the other end said, “Bus five-four-eight, what is your twenty?”

The passengers look to Tom who picked up the transceiver and said, “Hi Donna, my twenty is Highway One, north of Bodega.”  He was smiling.

The woman on the radio asked, “What the hell are you doing all the way out there?”

“We’re going to the beach,” replied Tom.   He winked at the passengers in the rear-view mirror.

Donna said, “Tom, do you realize that you have deviated from your route and are late?”

Tom said, “I sure do Donna, I sure do.  Thanks for your help.  I’m going to hang up now.  Goodbye!”  Tom hung up the transceiver and turned off the radio.  He got back on the intercom and said, “Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, as you can see we’re almost at the beach.  I think we’ll go to Salmon Creek.   I overheard some talk of towels and beer and what not, so we’re going to swing by this little store up ahead and pick up some supplies.”  He pulled the bus into the parking lot of the store and then parked.  “I’ll give you five minutes,” he said.  

John saw that Brittany was getting up to go to the store so he got up to go with her.  John looked to Dennis the banker and said, “you stay put,” threatening him with his own phone.

“Give me back my phone!”

“Later,” said John.

Curiously, the cougar comforted Dennis, saying, “he’ll give it back hun, don’t worry.”  And she stayed on the bus with the fat man.

As John was stepping off the bus Tom handed him a hundred dollar bill and said, “drinks are on me son, bring me back the change.”

In the store, John and Brittany and two other people from the bus quickly filled up a shopping cart with beer, liquor, juice, all sorts of snacks, and some towels.  When they returned back to the bus with the bags of groceries and supplies, the destination signboard on the front of the bus, which had formally indicated their destination as SANTA ROSA TRANSIT MALL, had been change to THE BEACH.

The bus pulled out of the parking lot and rode up the Highway One toward Salmon Creek Beach.  They rode along the coast under the blazing sun, and the water and sand grew increasingly appealing.  Tom had the radio tuned-in to a classic rock station and some of the passengers were singing along with the music.   The bus arrived in the parking lot of Salmon Creek Beach which was situated on a cliff above the beach itself.  Tom parked the bus and said, “Alright, we’re here!”

The passengers cheered and everybody stood up and started off the bus.  In the parking lot were a few other beachgoers who watched what looked like a group on a company picnic deboarding the bus. 

            John helped Brittany and the cougar off of the bus and handed Dennis a bag of groceries to carry.  Everyone walked single-file down the rocky pathway that lead to the beach.  John walked behind the cougar and she stopped on the pathway to remove her heels.  He watched her bend over to remove the first heel, and upon realizing that she had nothing to hold onto for balance, he said. “Do you want hold onto me while you do that?”

“Ha, sure,” she said.

She held onto this arm and took off her other heel.  They were standing in the middle of the pathway together, above the sand and rolling waves.

“How come you were able to get off work so easily?” John asked

“Oh,” she said, “It’s not a big deal if I miss work once in a while.  I’m in pretty good standing at my job.”

“Where do you work?”

“San Francisco?”

“What do you do?”

“I’m an escort,” she said, and then she turned and continued down the path.

Upon the beach children were flying kites while their parents relaxed in the shade of umbrellas.  The people from the bus were unpacking the supplies, laying out the towels, and mixing drinks.  John watched as Brittany removed sweater and placed it in her bag on her yoga mat.  The people gathered around together and held drinks or beer bottles.

“Well, Ladies and Gentlemen,” said Tom, “I’d like to thank you for making this the most fun bus ride of my life.  Here’s to you,” and he held up his drink.

“Here’s to you Tom!”

“We love you!”

They sipped their drinks and then John put his down in the sand and scooped up Tom by the legs.  Others joined in and they lifted Tom in their arms and tossed him up in the air again and again.  “Hip Hip, Hooray!  Hip Hip, Hooray!” they cheered. 

It was a wonderful time.   Soon they were all frolicking upon the sand and playing in the waves or exploring the tidepools.  John had rolled up his jeans and was talking to Brittany near the water.  Dennis was drunk and had stripped down to his boxers and was building a sand castle with the cougar, who was in her lingerie.  Tom was laying supine on the towels in the sun and had his cap over his face.  He was almost asleep when he heard the police cars swinging into the parking lot on the small cliff behind him.  There were three cars and their sirens were blaring.  John and Brittany walked over to Tom, who was watching the police inspect the bus on the cliff.

“Damn,” said Tom, “they sure did find us.”

John and Brittany were distressed by the apprehension in Tom’s voice.

“What now?” asked John.

“Now I go face the music.”

“You’re going up there?”

“Yeah, I don’t want them fellas getting any ideas and coming down here looking for me.  It’ll be okay, you guys just stay put,” said Tom.  And he walked away toward the path which lead up to the bus.  Brittany and John watched as Tom made his way up the path and felt guilty and helpless. 

“Should we go up there?” John asked.

“Well, he asked us to stay here.  I think we should just hold on for a second.”

“Okay,” said John, who then reached for Brittany’s hand and held it.  They watched the police interacting with Tom, who was making these sweeping gestures and dramatic driving motions – as though he were turning a big invisible steering wheel – explaining, perhaps with some lies, how things came to pass.  A news truck was approaching the parking lot, and Dennis, the cougar, and some others from the bus made their way over the Brittany and John.

“What’s going on up there?”

“I guess Tom’s in trouble,” said John.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” said the cougar.

“Well…” said John.

The banker exclaimed, “He can’t get arrested, he’s supposed to take us back!”

“The news crew is here, let’s go talk to them!” someone said.

“That may be a good idea,” said Brittany, “we can stick up for Tom.”

“Alright, let’s go.” 

John and Brittany went first, hand and hand.  Dennis and the cougar stayed back to dry off, Dennis was mixing himself another drink while the cougar fixed her makeup.  “I’ve never been on television before,” she said. 

In the parking lot the police asked Tom to turn around and they were putting handcuffs on him as the news crew filmed the arrest.  John and Brittany were on the path near the base of the cliff and the others from the bus were about a hundred feet behind them on the beach.  Families were watching the scenes unfold in the parking lot and the children stood still as their kites hovered idly in the sky.  It was going to be an exciting day.

The first thing John noticed was how all the seagulls from the beach and cliff took off into the air at the same time - dozens of them had simultaneously taken flight.  He turned around on the path and looked toward the ocean.

“Hold on,” he said to Brittany.

“Why?”

“Something’s wrong.”

The ground began to quake in a tremendous upheaval and a thunderous noise exploded from the earth.  The world was shaking violently and the beach was undulating like a waterbed.  The waves were shifting from side to side as they inundated the shore like walls of water.  Rocks tumbled down from the cliff and the people were screaming and being knocked down by the waves.  Brittany and John had lost their balance and were huddling together in the sand, away from the base of the cliff.  The earthquake intensified and an immense roar occurred as a section of the beach began to tear open.   Geysers erupted from the trembling ground which was splitting apart and a great chasm emerged that divided the beach and cliff.  Rocks and sand were pouring down into the chasm and in the parking lot half of the people and vehicles, including the bus, fell and went crashing down into the dark maw of the earth.  The entire beach had sunk down and a raging ocean swell raced across the sand like a tsunami, engulfing everyone as it surged toward the crevasse.  The rushing water carried people screaming over the waterfall that poured into the void.  John and Brittany, on the other side of the divide, watched as people sailed down into the depths and John looked for the cougar and banker but he could not see clearly in the turmoil.  He only saw bodies in the rapids rushing over the edge, and some would be followed by kites which were also swallowed up by the crevasse.

John was holding Brittany and she was crying hysterically.  He watched in awe as the water began to subside and wash back toward the sea.  He was petrified but was jolted back to alertness once the disaster sirens began to sound off from coast. 

He shook Brittany and yelled, “we have to leave the beach!”

He pulled her up and they crawled up the mangled cliff toward the highway.  Once they were at the top he stood bewildered and gazed at a gaping scar that ran across the face of the earth along the coast as far as the eye could see.  The San Andreas Fault had opened up and unleashed apocalyptic devastation upon the land, so much so that survivors in the parking lot were on their knees weeping and praying to God, half-expecting to see fire and brimstone and flying horsemen emerge from the vast fissure. 

“My God,” said John.

The ocean could be seen frothing in the distance, but it was not clear if the water would come rushing back at any point.  There were small aftershocks which shook the land.  Through the howling sirens and the weeping congregation in the parking lot came the pitiful screams of a man from within the crevasse at the beach.  The screaming continued and John decided to investigate, partially to see if he could help, but mostly because he wanted to gaze into the abyss.  Against Brittany’s protest, he carefully made his way down the cliff and stepped toward the edge of the crevasse, toward the voice of the hollering man.

He tested the ground near the lip of the pit and slowly peered down.  It seemed to go on forever, there was no bottom that he could see – just pitch-black darkness past a certain point.  Small rivulets were running down the walls of the chasm, and a few tree roots were protruding from out the sides.  The roots had snagged beach chairs and umbrellas and kites, and it was on one such tree root, roughly fifteen feet below John, that the banker clung, gripping on for his life.  He was still in his underwear, sunburnt and crying – he looked like a giant baby wearing a diaper. 

“Hey!” yelled John.  Dennis looked up and saw him.

“Oh God help me!” cried Dennis, “God Help me!  I have to go to work!”

John stood up and laughed.  He shook his head and then walked away.

Comments

[N8]

Hilarious and touching! I really enjoyed reading this. I wish that there was more though.
Reminiscent of Vonnegut. Thanks.

[Titus]

Well done, I really enjoyed it. Great character dynamics, funny, and in an absurd way, a bit inspiring. You should do more short stories of workers going on crazy manic adventures to break out of their routine...