Wednesday

In the morning she packs a bag with her best clothes. High-heels as well. Volume enhancing mousse and wax – not a strain of hair will fall out of place. She sneaks the bag out of the flat. The boys are fast asleep. It’s pitch dark and she longs to get on her bike for an hour’s drive to work. Clear her head, dream about today. Today of all days. It’ll finally happen. She’s been longing for this for months and months.

Halfway to work she has to stop to catch her breath. And to throw up. The prospect is daunting. What if… What with… How to… One minute she’s sure of herself, the next she hates herself more than ever. This could change life for good.

Spidey: *screaming* It’s Wednesday!
Matt: Pipe down, will ya?
Spidey: *whispers* It’s Wednesday.
Matt: *sighs* Yup. Pour me another cup of coffee.
Spidey: Any plans for today? Now that it’s Wednesday?
Matt: Not really.
Spidey: Mid-week.
Matt: Hand me the paper.
Spidey: Weeeeednesdaaaay…
Matt: Paper!
Spidey: *hands Matt the paper* Wednesday!
Matt: *hits Spidey over the head with the paper* Shut up! Why is Wednesday suddenly so interesting?

At work she checks her emails. Her heart skips several beats when she sees his name. She super-clicks it and reads. She can barely focus. Change of plans. But not in a bad way. Let’s meet somewhere else. That sushi place in town? You like sushi? She smiles. They’re on for lunch. TheBoss is out of office all week. Nobody stands in her way to have a lunch meeting in town.

She leaves her bike at the school. She tries not to cry and kiss the handlebars. She is dressed to conquer the world. She feels great, walks tall and wide…ahm…erase the last bit. Gets on the metro and zooms into the city. She’s early.

Half an hour later it feels as if she’s still early. Or perhaps time has stopped everywhere else in the world. No text. No call. No show. She asks the waiter over.

FridayNext: I’d like number M12, please
Waiter: To go?
FridayNext: No. To eat here.
Waiter: Would you like to order a drink before your company arrives?
FridayNext: I’m here on my own. No company.
Waiter: You do know that there are 28 pieces of sushi in number M12?
FridayNext: Are you calling me fat?
Waiter: No! It’s just…28 pieces for lunch is quite a…I’ll get your drink.
FridayNext: I haven’t ordered one yet! Give me something alcoholic.
Waiter: Pardon?
FridayNext: Something Japanese with lots of alcohol in it! Please.

She downs the Japanese beer in two minutes. It tastes foul and bitter, but she orders one more. The waiter avoids eye contact. Twenty minutes later the sushi arrives and she breaks apart the sticks and digs in. After having gobbled down ten pieces in a couple of minutes she slows down. The cell is next to her plate. It’s silent. Nobody contacts her.

She drinks the second beer slowly and tries not to grimace when she swallows the liquid. This is the worst date she’s ever been on, and she has had a few under her belt over the years. Twenty-five pieces later she’s full, but the waiter keeps an eye on her so she finishes up and calls him over.

FridayNext: I’d like a piece of chocolate cake for dessert, please. And another beer.
Waiter: Sure Madam.

He comes back too quickly with the dessert. She is close to pukeville when she sees the large piece on the plate. But she does what a sheep must do and eats it. Slowly. Very slowly. Her stomach is caving in. It pleads with her, begs her to stop eating. And yet she finishes the cake and swallows the beer. Having paid the bill, she waddles and burps simultaneously back to the metro.

It calls for some kind of comeback. She is not sure what to do or how to do it, but she is convinced that she needs to send back a message to him. In a split second she jumps on the metro in his direction. Before she can consider the consequences she is on her way to his office. It’s payback time.

The sushi and cake weigh her down and the beers make her vision blurry at best. Still she is determined to follow through and she asks for directions a zillion times until she finally finds the new offices. She rings the doorbell. No answer. She keeps pressing the bell. Nothing. This is beyond belief. Nobody treats her with ignorance. It’s worse than anything!

She picks up rubble and pebbles from the pavement and throws up pieces to the windows she imagines he hides behind. Most of the fragments fall down in her head.

FridayNext: *yelling* Oi you stupid GraphicDesignBoy! Open the frickin’ door and let me in!

The debris makes her even angrier when it hits her and she throws more into the air, not realising the concept of gravity.

FridayNext: *yelling* I won’t be your groupie anymore. Do you hear me? NO MORE! You’re on your own, you...you...delicious DJ-Man. I’m fed up with this. I want to be an idol now. I want somebody to adore me. Somebody to be my groupie.

The busy street is suddenly empty, but she doesn’t notice. She rummages through her handbag as if to find a clue of what to do next. Lo and behold. Up comes a tube of superglue.

FridayNext: *yelling* This was meant for you! Are you aware how many people that would love to get superglued to me? Huh? At least you could come to the window, you insanely gorgeous man!

But there’s nobody to be seen in the windows and the front door is still locked and bolted. Once again she rummages through her bag. She takes out a tennis ball.

FridayNext: *yelling* If you catch the balls I throw you, it means that you’re in it for life, honey. And I threw them at you, and you caught some of them. Not many, but some. And that means something!

She holds up her left arm with the ball in her hand. She waves the arm around for him to see the ball.

FridayNext: *screaming in a shrill voice close to breaking into hysterics* It means something, do you hear me?
Neighbours: *yelling* Shut up and leave.
FridayNext: *yelling* You shut up! It’s a free country!

She paces up and down the pavement, out of pebbles. She mumbles to herself.

FridayNext: Goddammit, I’m super nice. I’m super funny. And I could have made you laugh, you...you...would look great in velvet!

Once again she looks up at the windows.

FridayNext: *yelling* I love you! I LOVE YOU. What do you wanna do about that, eh?
Neighbours: *yelling* You’re trespassing. Please leave.
FridayNext: *yelling* You leave! You leave, you…so and so. I’ll vomit on you!
Neighbours: *yelling* We’ll call the police if you don’t leave now.
FridayNext: *yelling* Make me. Make my day. And superglue is only for the chosen ones!
Neighbours: *yelling* He’s not interested, you sheep!
FridayNext: *yelling* Shut up you muthafrickin’...

In her excitement, she throws the tennis ball and breaks one of the windows. One of his windows. Five minutes later the police arrive and escort her away from the premises. She tries to use her intellectual wit to persuade them to let her go.

FridayNext: Look, I’m green, goddammit! GREEN! I have rights, you know!

However, they don’t listen and take her down to the station.

A phone call from the inside to the outside:
Spidey: Wouldn’t it be best if UniCorn bailed you out?
FridayNext: Are you insane? She must never know about this!
Spidey: First of all, I’m not the one in custody for stalking somebody who’s not even IN THE FREAKING HOUSE.
FridayNext: He should have been!
Spidey: But he wasn’t.
FridayNext: Are you coming down or what?
Spidey: I’m kinda busy right now…
FridayNext: You move that butt of yours and be here in two minutes!
Spidey: Should I bring Matt?
FridayNext: Oh yeah, please do. I’m sure he’d love to see me behind bars. What do you think, Sherlock?
Spidey: On my way. On my own. And chill, woman.
FridayNext: *screaming* censored by higher powers

Ace: How hung over are you?
J-Man: Too hung over!
Ace: Me too!
J-Man: I’m more hung over than you.
Ace: I very much doubt that.
J-Man: I’m sure of it.
Ace: We should measure it. That thingy that the police use.
J-Man: Yeah, that thingy. That…let’s breathe and see the result-thingy.
Ace: Exactly. It ought to have a shorter name.
J-Man: It should.
Ace: Yeah.
J-Man: Perhaps it does.
Ace: Yeah.
J-Man: We could probably google it.
Ace: Yeah. Nice. Let’s do that.
J-Man: Did you bring the keys to the office?
Ace: They’re in my pants.
J-Man: What pants?
Ace: Hopefully this pair that I’m wearing.
J-Man: I’m too drunk to listen to you.
Ace: Me too.
J-Man: How wasted are you?
Ace: Too wasted, man.
J-Man: Is this our office?
Ace: I hope so. I can’t walk another mile in these shoes.
Both laugh hysterically.
Ace: You talk a lot when you’re drunk.
J-Man: Do I?
Ace: Yup.
J-Man: I wonder why that is.
Ace: And you sound really clever as well.
J-Man: Do I?
Ace: Yup.
J-Man: I wonder why that is.
Ace: I found the keys!
J-Man: So fingers crossed that this is our office!
Ace miraculously opens the door and they walk into the office.
Ace: Hey, somebody opened a window.
J-Man: Cool.
Ace: Who did that?
J-Man: Why did we go to the office?
Ace: I don’t remember. If you crash in your chair, I’ll crash in my chair.
J-Man: Sounds great to me.

InBox: Hey, is Friday home?
Matt: Yeah. She went straight to bed. No dinner or anything.
InBox: Right.
Matt: Spidey says he bumped into her in town.
InBox: Oh?
Matt: Apparently she forgot her bike at work.
InBox: Really?
Matt: Spidey has gone for it. He offered voluntarily. It’s not like him.
InBox: Well, it’s nice of him.
Matt: Sure. I just wish I could have done it instead.
InBox: I’m sure she’ll be grateful for your help as well.
Matt: But I haven’t done anything.
InBox: Sometimes just being there is help enough, Matt.
Matt: It just doesn’t make sense to me. How are you?
InBox: Fine. Just fine. Look, I have some correspondence I need to expunge before J-Man comes to…I mean, comes to work tomorrow. So talk to you later, okay?
Matt: Great. Cheers.