The Weirdest Thing

[originally posted on myspace as part 2 of my "Dedicated to the Death of Dave" series]

The drive to work is my only sanctuary. Everyone complains about how no one here knows how to drive. I'll admit it pisses me off when people change lanes without signaling, or drift out of their lanes, or run yellow lights, but compared to living with Dave, it's pure relaxation. Locked in my car, he can't get to me.

When I got to work, I opened the car door to find Dave standing right there, looking at me as though he was wondering why I took so long. He was home when I left, and I took the best route here. There wasn't even traffic today, and he got here before me. I just ignored him, as I always do, but then the strangest thing happened. He started logging tapes. He just sat down at an empty logging station and started typing. Without saying a word to anyone, he logged all day. He even found start paperwork, so if there's some clerical error, he could get paid having never been hired. I just pretended I didn't know him. Everyone else just piled work on the new guy. Serves him right.

He burned through every tape they gave him. The producers were raving. He's coming in tomorrow! Fucking great. Now we get to carpool. Awesome. On the plus side, with each paycheck, he gets one step closer to buying a bed, and one step closer to death.

Fucking Dave.