He had a gun to my fucking head!

Here I am trying to enjoy my ruined labor day (I had to work which defeats the purpose of the day, so fuck labor day!) and as I sit down to enjoy my hot salsa, tortillas, and just surf on my sidekick.
I see him.
And he sees me.
He’s one of those nice guys to a fault who works in my department and is one of those people who will follow you to keep a conversation going - a fucking conversation hostage! His demands are an ear to bend and a shoulder to cry on!

Normal people convobortions like...
“yeah….......”
"ok......"
“Oh that’s cool………”
and my personal favorite…
“ daaaang……..”
Notice the periods indicate silence, which is accompanied by closed body language, and a head nod as I slowly resume what I was doing. They just don’t work on this conversation hostage! He’s like a herb...

the friend that no one likes. So he crosses the twenty feet zigzagging through tables mind you to come over and sit down with a “siiiiigh” like he’s found a rest haven to rest his weary body. I had my sidekick in my hand and I was contemplating faking an elaborate phone call with a plot and characters and the whole nine, but I figured that he’d see I was engaged in sidekickery and wave it off.

I should’ve faked
the fucking call.