saturday afternoon

two. "send this document to sherri. she's the fuckin' attorney. she should revise this. too bad she's an ugly chick. once in a while you see a decent law chick.. but there's not too many of them. they're like banker chicks. she doesn't mind me calling her a chick. she got through law school just so some guy like me will call her a chick. sometimes you'll meet a decent looking chicks. but then they hit thirty and they go to shit. just like us. they become men." three pm. 42nd floor board room, windows overlooking the Manhattan skyline with Central Park sprawled in its snowy splendor below. the sun crashed against the pink high rises and orange branches. a single associate, gulping his lunch down, alone. "just gimme two minutes, and'll i'll take a look at it. jesus, i haven't seen my wife in a week. i go home and she's sleeping and i'm here before she wakes up. just gimme a couple, will ya?" he stares at the sunset with the lights dimmed. the french fries hangs heavily for a second before receding with the hum of the air conditioning. exit right.