Relocation Blues

“Brian, dude, what’s wrong?”

“Tammy. Her job’s relocating her to the Florida office.”



“What’s wrong with the word ‘move’?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. What’s the point of anything if Tammy isn’t here to share it with me?”

“I’ve told you a million times. Love’s a sucker’s bet. Here. Have a cerveza.”

“No. I don’t want a cerveza. I want Tammy!”

“There’s nothing holding you here, dude.”

“Whoa, that’s a good point. There’s ocean in Florida.”

“Is that your phone, dude?”

“It’s Tammy. Hey, babe. What? We need to talk? What do you mean there’s nothing in my life that matters to me more than surfing? What does that have to do with anything? You what? Wow. That’s… I can’t believe it. No. I’m… No. Don’t worry. Why would I follow you back there? The waves in Florida aren’t good enough to entice me out there, you Ho.”

“Good god, what was that?”

“She’s been two-timing me with her boss. She’s not being relocated to Florida for work. She’s marrying him. She wanted to tell me so I wouldn’t follow her out there. Bitch.”

“You want that cerveza now?”

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