He walks in like he owns the place,
Like some glorified geek,
Who thinks he is the king of the nerds,
The top dog.
He sits in my chair
And I wind up sitting on my pathetic excuse
For a desk
In my little gray cubicle.
He smiles at me,
His eyes crinkling underneath his little round glasses,
His goatee making him look 25,
Maybe 30.
And he starts posing
All of these little brain teasers to me,
Bragging,
Telling me how quickly
He figured them out,
Then explaining them to me,
Drawing them out,
Talking to me like I am
Taking a remedial class from him.
He is still jobless,
But tells me he is itching
To get another computer job,
Detailing his job search
As if the mere act
Of getting off one’s ass
And looking for a job
Deserves praise,
Some trophy,
Some medallion,
Maybe a certificate.
He is still
So fucking attractive to me,
But I’m still looking
Around his ego
To try and find the human beauty.
I smile weakly
And ask him what he is doing tonight,
Making sure he knows
My shift is up in another 2 hours.
He grabs the last slice of pizza
Walks out of my cubicle
While saying over his shoulder,
“I’m going home.”
He leaves the empty pizza box
On the corner of my desk
And me in a state of shock:
Asshole.