City Transit, Number Eighteen

It was a rather dull morning, when Mark slithered out of bed. Whether he knew it or not, today was his big day, in more ways then one but I'm getting ahead of myself. He crawled out from beneath the bed sheets, which almost seemed to glow in the dark. The silky satin window curtains remained closed, as always. Mark didn't like the sun, but unfortunately, he had to swim in it, like every other fish in the sea. 


He was sort of a funny man, he wore two different pairs of socks, always. One seemingly climbed higher on his leg than the other, but no matter, they reached pretty high because he despised ankle socks. 


"I'm the best," He almost thought aloud, as he put on a tie composed of multiple colors.


It was a selfish thought indeed, for Mark was a rather self-centered person, others tended not to notice though, for he was soft-spoken everywhere but his job, because when he was there, he put on his act. Like he was the class clown, but in a manner where it was best he behave, so he was quite the jokester at work, always playing pranks on people. Such as the old water and flour gag. He worked at Television USA, a big television company. 


He had been given the job opportunity years ago, and he took it. Which is ironic, because nobody seemed to pay attention to him .. at all. He never really had the chance to make a good first impression on any of his co-workers, or make the chance for anyone to really even know his name. 


But thats besides the point, because today is his big day, the day he could be one of many in a chance to get that new promotion. If he got that, people would actually know him, and be more respective of him. And if he had that job, he could manipulate others, because he had that kind of power, again, as I stated, another selfish thought. 


He then realized that he just panned out his day in an extended fantasy, as he stared blankly in his bathroom mirror that had at least one tiny chip or crack, he was too lazy to fix it though. He was in the middle of putting on some black work pants, and he laced up his converse shoes, which obviously didn't cooperate with the dress code at work, but he didn't really care because nobody noticed him when he made an effort to make others laugh, so he thought of wearing these "clown shoes" as an inside joke he can chuckle to himself about.


He then put on a blue polo, and a nice, jet black suit over that. He looked rather dorky, and was considering a decent looking man, at best. He then paced himself to the sink and creaked the door to the cabinet under it, open. He reached for the hair spray and gel, because he did his hair in a rather funky fashion. Standing on end in a swirl like chocolate ice cream poured into a crisp waffle cone that you can get at any buffet. He had deep brown eyes to match his hair and no facial hair, as to keep his child-like appearance. He is 31 years old.


As soon as his wacky stature matched his daily outfit, he stormed out the front door like an olympian runner, holding his hands above his head. He thought this funny, but he was shameful because the only one who laughed at his jokes was himself. He waltzed into an empty garage, for he had no cars, he blew all his money on silly little things for himself, such as the bobble-heads he has planted to his desk at work, in his cramped little cubicle. 


His scooter was in the shop, all the time, and thats because Mark forgets to pick it up, so it's been living there. Little did he know its been there for years, and he owes the scooter shop a lot of money for keeping it safe. So he opened the garage door and scooted over to the street side in a sort of sing-song matter, bopping his head as he was humming along to the elevator music playing in his vacant cranium, he wasn't very smart at all, as you probably have already assumed.


He strolled the crosswalk in long strides, as to make exactly seventeen steps across, as he does every single weekday, he had weekends off. To reach the bus stop a half mile away, he stepped on all the cracks on the sidewalk on the way there, because he found it to be a rather easy way of keeping himself entertained, as to not get bored with his life, for it is rather boring. He didn't really have a purpose, so he thought working at Television USA would maybe give a slight edge to his life that came to a screeching halt since he was a child. He was always the invisible kid.


Well, not today, because today he was going to give it his all. That is, if nobody tried to trump his attempt. His only worry was that the promotion would be given to someone the boss favors, but he tried not to think about that now. He bumped into a rather large man, with broad shoulders and a shaved head. He kind of shrugged Mark off his shoulders as he pushed him aside, making him stumble a few steps.


To make sure he didn't face plant, he stuck his hand out, and as it scraped hard against the gravel,he found his torso drenched in puddle water, his suit was ruined. He quickly returned to his original position, now standing up. And shrugged it off, though he was quite furious. 


"There's nothing lovely about today," He muttered under his breath, just loud enough to enjoy the sound of his own voice.


There was no time to run over to his house to grab another shirt, so he was tempted to yell the bald man's head off, but then he thought before he unclenched his jaw to open his stupid mouth. He needed to keep his composure, so he continued to grind his teeth, with the thought of failure lurking in his mind.


Its strange he didn't know this man, because he rides this bus to work every weekday. City Transit, Number Eighteen. He sat in the front, as to selfishly be the first to get off. While he was thinking of this, the bus just arrived at their feet, but he was quite dazed, so he stepped on last. As he gently strode up, he peered at the sign that proclaimed to watch his step. He always thought that was a rather comedic sign, for nobody ever trips on those stairs, well today, he did.


Rather embarrassed and flustered, he got up and moved to the back, for someone, the shaved headed man, had intended to take his seat, and purposely get off first. Today wasn't starting off well for Mark, but he remembered to keep steady and hold on. Just for today. 


He arrived slowly, it seemed, to his destination, Television USA. He walked in as if he already had that promotion and complimented everyone he saw on the way in, including the pregnant lady, asking if she had lost weight, which is rather rude when put to thought. He didn't care, today was his big day. He sat down fast, and spun around in his chair, in his rather tight and cramped cubicle. He flicked the bobble heads and nodded with them in unison, for he still remained in the best of moods. 


He was called to the front of the office by the secretary, and was pulled aside swiftly by the boss. 


"Hey, Mark. Listen, buddy, I've got something secretive to tell you." He stated quietly, almost seeming to quiver.


"Yes, sir?"


"I've been watching you, and your work. You may not think I notice, but I do, just keep in mind, boy, that the promotion is considering you, my friend."


"Really, sir?" Marks spirits lifted, after all, he may have a chance.


"And..." He was cut off by the one of Mark's female co-workers.


She whispered something in the boss' ear. He nodded frequently.


"Excuse me, Mark." He followed the lady around the corner.


Mark peered over the side of the dry wall, to see that the boss was following the lady into the men's room. This wasn't good. Mark was going to lose his promotion to the office slut. Everyone knew it, she is the hugest whore in the whole building, Mark thought very crudely. She has slept with nearly everyone for money, everyone except Mark that is. He started to wonder if it was jealousy that made him think so rudely of her, because normally, he wouldn't mind such a woman.