The Day of Stains
Alternate title: Goddammit!

This morning, I found a spot of dirt on my shirt, probably from closing my umbrella earlier that day. I noticed it while at the dentist's office, so I figured a trip home en route to work would take care of that. And it did.

By the time I got to work, it was nearing lunchtime. My boyfriend told me that our group's managers had bought wings from Pluckers for all the software folks who were working late tonight... and tech writers, just 'cause we're nice to have around, I guess.

My boyfriend and I see eye-to-eye on the issue of wings: they're messy, small, and not worth the effort. So we ate downstairs. Rather, he ate and I watched him since half my mouth was numb from having a filling replaced at the dentist.

Come 2 o'clock though, I was starting to get hungry. I ate a sammich that Gus made me yesterday, but it was soggy. I needed more food. I spotted the wings in the oasis by the elevators. Having no plate or napkin, I picked up 2 wings and carried them to my desk.

Barbecue sauce dripped on me. Not once. But twice. FUCK.

So now I have these two big fucking stains on my jeans. I'm glad I don't have any meetings today. In fact, I really don't want to leave my desk at all.

One stain, you're clumsy. Okay. Two stains the size of nickels on either leg? You're a fucking slob that shouldn't be allowed in public.

I'm wondering if I should go back for more. I mean, if I'm gonna look all nasty for the rest of the day AND spend some of my evening washing the nasty stain out of these jeans, I should eat as many wings as possible so it's worth it!