Pushed

He sat in front of her, droning on about cost cutting and capacity needs.  About supporting the delivery 100%, but without compromising on other the other facets of the project.  His eyes everywhere but on her.  His attention clearly elsewhere.  His resentment at having to spend this time explaining things to her palpable in the stale office air.

 

Her fingers clenched to white knuckled stillness in her lap.  She listened in complete silence, wondering how much longer it would take him to realised she’d made no response.  Not even the usual “ja” or “hmm” or “uh ha” that would punctuate a dialogue.  Hers was the mute engagement of an audience, not an active participant.  The deep indigo rage in her belly grew.  Her face a serene, indifferent mask to the man before her.  She concentrated on her breath.  Keeping her hands still in her lap.  Keeping her spine straight and her eyes clear of the humiliating tears of frustration that always seemed to come at the worst possible moments.

 

And then she couldn’t stand his pompous, snake oil salesman bluster any more and in the half real time of warp speed and slow motion, she watched her own hand whip out, grasp the silver letter opener by its enamelled hilt and thrust it deep into his left eye.

 

“To hell with the consequences you fucking arsehole”, she smiled, as she wiped the blade on his blue striped shirt, “I’m going to lunch.”

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16 thoughts on “Pushed

  1. daisyfae says:

    My fantasy. (sigh) Except i whack the the blow hole in the head with a stapler, pull out the evil tongue and slice it off with office scissors, and place it neatly in the left front shirt pocket like a pink, squishy handkerchief as i step over the body to go to my next appointment…

  2. kyknoord says:

    Oh man, that was so satisfying, I think I need a cigarette.
    Incidentally, I’d be interested to know how many hits the “letter opener fantasies” tag generates.

  3. Parenthesis says:

    I’m glad it’s not just me that has these violent kill-the-boss fantasies. Must admit that my weapon of choice would have to be the stapler, although the silver letter opener is a nice alternative, but only because an ice pick is not commonly found in the orifice. Put that on my task list any day 🙂

  4. nursemyra says:

    this is not one of my office fantasies as I really like my boss, but when I was married…..

  5. Seraphine says:

    hmmm… letter opener fantasies?
    what ever happened to putting smelly cheese
    somewhere at the back of one of his drawers
    in his desk on friday before you go home?

  6. Shoot – Nursie stole my line!

  7. Dolce says:

    @ Dais > My my, Dais. I seat myself at the foot of a master and hope to learn….a tongue’kerchief indeed. What a splendid idea!

    @ Kyk > It’s always good to know how many other twisted fukkers are out there in the world. *sweet smile*

    @ Ms P > I’m rather partial to a staple gun. The multifire option has so many benefits….

    @ Nurse M > I haven’t had that pleasure yet, but my boss seems to think he’s my husband, clearly. Fucks me over regularly and then expects me to pick up after him and make him tea (well, to be fair, he only tried to get me to make him tea once. Poor bastard.)

    @ Seraphina > Or a nice fish.

    @ Olga > Probably your hook and sinker too. You’ve got to keep an eye on that one!

  8. nursemyra says:

    I resemble that remark 🙂

  9. Pete says:

    I have fantasies about punching my dad in the nose. Not quite as violent as yours (the fantasy that is) but probably deeply satisfying.

  10. Dolce says:

    @ Nurse M > rather fetchingly, indeed!

    @ Pete > Go on. Try it! *evil cackle*

  11. Seraphine says:

    smile sweetly and inform him
    in front of the whole office
    you’re having his baby and
    you’ve told his wife.
    on second thought, don’t.
    but i’d love to see his face.
    please don’t.

  12. thegnukid says:

    i am utterly impressed with taking the time to clean off the silver letter opener before replacing it on the desk. now that is a class act, showing the utmost consideration for the next person needing a letter opened. but then you ruined it by leaving the foul, reeking body oozing messily over the office carpet. now that stain won’t come out easily…

  13. michaelm says:

    Agatha Christie just had an orgasm over this.
    Wonder what that’s like when you’ve expired . . .
    Letter openers are such cool things

    ~m

  14. Dolce says:

    @ Seraphina > I am soooo tempted. The only problem is that then the whole office will think I actually had sex with him. I would rather eat toe jam and stab needles in my eyes, frankly.

    @ Gnu > How inconsiderate of me. Mind you, I was considering rolling him in the carpet after lunch and having a small bonfire in the back parking lot. Marshmellows on me!

    @ Michael M > You little snuff bunny you! This was actually partially inspired by a true moment…chasing a boss around the office with his tiffany letter opener. He thought I was messing around. I was wondering how many years I get in the clink if I just made him bleed a little. *grr*

  15. egadfly says:

    When someone mouths businessdrivel like that, I usually content myself by reflecting on their staggering ignorance. It’s a sure sign that they have no idea what they are talking about, or at least no capacity to think creatively or critically about it. The irony is that the jargon is usually about how to harness creativity, initiative, etc. for fun and profit. Well, for profit.

    As satisfying as it is to sit there basking in my superiority over these tapeworms, your letter opener method is altogether more eloquent.

    And using a silver weapon means you have the lycanthrope contingency covered as well.

  16. Dolce says:

    @ Egadfly > Preeeeeee…cise….ly. But answer me this: who’s the fekkin’ idiot if he’s getting paid 3 x my salary? Pffffft.

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