Pure bliss

Dustin checked around the office one last time. Keys, cellphone, laptop, notebook, water bottle, coffee mug, reading glasses, jacket – check, all there. He was always forgetting something and cursing himself somewhere on the way home, usually when stuck in gridlock on the Santa Monica Freeway.

Finally convinced that he had everything, he headed to the kitchen to fill his water bottle for the long drive to Manhattan Beach. As always, he felt the burning sensation when the bottle was half full. Pavlov’s dog, of course. He began stepping in place, trying to stave off the urge. Ah, full! He headed to the rest room and made it ... in the nick of time. A minute later, he’d saddled his backpack onto his back and pushed the down button for the elevator.

The doors opened, he got in – silence, utter silence. Oh, what joy after the long day of ringing phones, questions from junior architects, complaints from the managing partner, and the inevitable prairie dogging, “Hey Dustin, come over here, question for you.” He breathed in the silence, long and slow breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth. It felt good. And his sinuses were clear, too. He could feel his blood pressure dropping, his heart rate slowing. Ah, pure bliss.

The elevator stopped on 11. In came a tall woman with long legs, platinum blonde hair to her waist, a beige, skin-tight dress and matching high heels, fire engine red lipstick, blue eyes with dark, dark eyelashes that gave her a Barbie look. Her neck was bent to the right with a Smartphone stuck between her ear and her shoulder while she rummaged through a Louis Vuitton purse. The elevator doors closed.

“We’re meeting at Johnny’s Café on Sunset. Six o’clock. But first let me tell you about Cameron and Melody. They had a fight last night about the guy with the nose ring at Starbuck’s. Barely talking, so keep them on opposite ends of the table. You never know how long –“

The air suffocated Dustin in the elevator. He could feel his brain pushing against his skull – oh, what a headache – and had a hard time breathing. Only ten floors to go ... he would make it, and then be free ...

“And don’t tell anyone I mentioned this, but she has a yeast infection. Been seeing the doctor since last week about it. And Cameron doesn’t know. I mean, can you imagine? Her own daughter, and she doesn’t –“

Dustin felt his head explode. “Hey, lady,” he said with a flat tone, loud enough to cut through the gossip. Times like this, he sounded like a Republican – a good thing, in the moment.

“You think I enjoy listening to your crap in the elevator? Can the phone, or I will.”

She looked at him with the whites of her eyes for one second. “—and Darla’s going in for collagen injections and a breast lift. Her boyfriend Samuel’s a tit man, so she’s doing it for him of course. And ...”

The droning continued right out the elevator doors. Dustin followed her out to the parking lot. There was one, special item he always kept in his backpack. Calm returned to his head, knowing he’d hurt her.