"Never again
Is what you swore
The time before"

- Depeche Mode

"Dude! Like most excellent!" The stress reliever. Being a Wall Street Banker is not all it's cracked up to be. For some reason, everyone expects you to talk in formal English. Gimmee a break! Nobody talks in formal English. Well, you have English professors, but I wouldn't call them human. Man! Even my thoughts are reruns. Is there anything new in this world? Or do we just recycle old things in a different form.

"Bill! Bill! Com'n Bill!"

"Uh. Theodore."

"Watch your sleeping on the job."

"I wasn't sleeping. I was daydreaming."

"Like there's really a difference. Now get back to work. You just can't keep the Atari's CEO waiting."

Watch it brain! This is what really messes up a dude. Don't you just hate it when you dream of waking up? Sometimes you really get messed up, but this time I was safe. My boss talking like a normal person? Yeah, right. And me actually meeting with the Atari CEO? Hah! I always end up with the borring guys. IBM. Exxon. Yawn.

"You can't hide the pain. I see it scrawled on your empty face." "I am so afraid of living in oblivion." "I am so afraid of living in oblivion."

I like this song! Sure, it's cheep techno-pop, but I still like it. But I was trying to take a nap. Maybe some good R.E.M. There new one has some great meditation stuff. But beware the catharsis of Sting. I still don't know what that word means, but critics love to use it.

"Bill! Bill! Com'on Bill!"

"Uh. Fred!"

"Dude! We have a most excellent opportonity just waiting to be taken advantage of."

This dudes real. Fred actually talks like a REAL person. "Cowabunga! I can't wait to get outa this dump. I work to much."

"Yeah. You know George Alexander? President of the research company?"

"George- Yeah. I know 'em."

"Well, he's looking for some serious dough for his new project."


"He wants us to loan him the money."


"He offered to give us a free tour of his lab."

"Excellent!" Times like this actually make the job worth it. The lab tour. Getting piles of data about everything. A free invitation hack! And nothing to worry about. So what if we got caught breaking into their computer. Like they'll do anything to the giving hand. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

We dashed out the room. Time was oblivious. Space was oblivious. Even the door was oblivious. "Ouch!"

"Oh yeah. Forgot to tell ya we got new automatic locks."

"Thanks Fred."

Finally we're out on the street. Simpsons! That's not fast enough. R.E.M. time!

"It all started with an earthquake, birds and snakes, and airplane, Lenny Bruce is not afraid."

One foot in front of the other. Keeping tempo with R.E.M. at double speed. The one good running song actually faster than Simpsons. (And it's a heckuva lot easier to lyricize.) The street whizzes by. A black blur. A yellow blur. Oblivious to my vision. But still aparant. The feel of hot asphalt slips through my Cross Trainers. (Me wear dress shoes to work? Ha!) Who is Lenny Bruce, anyway?

"Eye of a hurricane-"

Uh oh. I just remembered: you're fast twitch muscles max out at 20 seconds. I've been sprinting for 50. Maybe if I don't tell my legs. Oh well. Down to Chariots of Fire. Not that slow! How about Depeche Mode? That'll work.

Man! This would be the day I decided to wear my black shirt. The smoldering July sun. "Uh Fred? Where are we going?"


"As in Duke?"


"Guess I better pick up the speed." No kidding. I actually enjoy jogging. Especially long distances. A new world record: the first man to sprint from Wall Street to Durham. Luckily this Wall Street's in Chapell Hill instead of New York.

The red sun begins to set in the sky. The ground lets out its silent scream. It seeks revenge for the constant punishment.