I walked out from my job, on what seemed to be a normal day at work.

I got in, greeted customers, organized my team's schedules, finished the task too early by myself, got yelled at for one bug then swiftly left after fixing it. Nothing notable to be said about today, just like the last four years really.

As usual, I wandered into town with a groceries list, and five minutes later was miraculously in a pub with seven people I half knew.

We got to our normal table and started the daily banter. Two guys, me and someone else, sat at each end of the counter, with four lovely ladies and some completely cloaked person sitting between us.

Me, the busty raven-haired girl and the petite raven-haired girl next to her, had a cooled beer bottle open in front of us. The cloaked figure went full-hog with a shot glass and some vodka and the blonde and green-haired, black-eyed girl had a mixture of other alcohols between them. The other male came in last and had just sat down.

But after looking at all of us, he - Mr... Uh, whoever-he-is - stood up dramatically and suddenly exploded, "So, you know what? Fuck this!"

Since this was before the sip of alcohol, this came completely out of the blue for all of us and so we all looked over to him with mixed reactions.

So, after a moment of confused pause, a green-haired, black-eyed girl who was sitting next to him; who I also didn't know the name of, asked: "What?"

This was followed by many other people asking the same question, whilst the guy just watched annoyed.

"You know my job! Another fucker did shit and I got blamed for the bank's lack of fucking security! If they would get the fucking intelligence to extend more than a fucking tenner, yes, A FUCKING TENNER, to electronic security systems, this wouldn't be a fucking problem! The AI they wasted fifty grand on is shit and those fuckers know it!" he explained, using his fist to bang on the table whenever he said any of the many expletives in his description, pissing off many of the pub's patrons in the process.

"Come on you prick, you lot all here to scream our lungs out about our shitty jobs. Let me guess: you got yelled at for doing your entire team's code in a day again, you got yelled at for not getting any prints out of that car and you got yelled at for that goose-chase downtown. You guys, really... This is my business you know? Keep it down so early..." the bartender, who's badge showed the name 'Lucy' retorted, pointing at me, the green haired lady and then the blonde in order.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

Sighing for nearly a minute straight, the man eventually got over himself and sat down again.

"Even worse..." I mumbled, having been reminded of my own misfortune. I proceeded to down the bottle in one gulp then tapped down on the counter and replaced it with a new one.

The main conversation died down, splitting into individual one on ones. Being the odd one out, I sighed and downed two more bottles in quick succession.

In response for tapping again, the bartender claimed, "Woah there fella, did something that bad happen?"

"The usual..." I muttered, then tapped again to no avail.

"You have work tomorrow, right? You know your boss won't let you off for a hangover," Lucy continued.

"The physical pain will kill the mental, so its fine," I countered.

"Something eating you?" she asked.

"Yes, you not giving me more drinks. It's not like I'm in debt to you like Phen over there, give me more dammit!" I yelled.

Instead of adding more reasons, she smiled slightly and simply replied, "No. Talk to me."

"You see..." I went on, describing how crunch is fucking cancer, the game we were making was only time because of me, for which that cunt yelled at me for 'not being a team player' and how, with this, my home life was non-existent... I finished with the line, "I'm not even the breadwinner, which she seems so fucking smug about, but I'm a hundred times more stressed out at the end of the day. Urgh! I feel like I've forgotten how to have fun, so just let me drown this shit in alcohol dammit!"

The bartender, having noticed I was finished, laughed. From a snicker to a full-on, room encompassing laugh, which almost made her spill the beer she was handing to the green-haired girl.

Calming down, she gave me a long-winded lecture, "Tell me about it. You guys are fine, but we have all kinds here. Not all respect the very few rules we do have, even little miss Karen over there had to come over here every other day, and not to drink. Yet all that bitch does is yell at me for this, saying I brought it on myself and that my hours suck. I get through it by doing crafts as a hobby, though she complains the glue stinks as much as the alcohol... Oh well."

"Beer," I bitterly demand, ignoring her.

She sighs deeply, telling me, "Fine. But promise me you'll try to find a hobby, Suzie yells at me for this, you know?"

Adding in one last jab, she hands me my next drink, "She worries about you. Please, if only for her. Do at least try."

I throw this beer down my throat, trying to avoid my overworked brain working even more. Sixteen hours straight was my limit anyway...

-

After some amount of beers, somewhere in the tweens, I blacked out completely, though the events leading up to it were so hazy I couldn't even start to describe them.

Waking up in a rather familiar bed, I heard the faint sounds of my wife sleeping.

Looking at the bedside clock, I saw the numbers I dreaded the most: five-past three. Two hours until I needed to leave for work...

Throwing my guts up from the alcohol, I grabbed clean clothes and freshened myself up. Using my free-time to wash all the dishes, sort out the washing and sort out mine and her bags, including swapping the empty lunchboxes with the filled ones Jess made for me before sleeping.

With her still sleeping, I left her a kiss and an apology note, then silently to do another bland day at my horrible and underpaying job. Remembering what the bartender said well, since, to be honest, it was the only thing I even remembered from yesterday.