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When Francis arrived at the office on Monday morning, he was in abnormally low spirits. He had slept terribly, and still felt dazed as he sat down at his desk.
Jeff arrived a few minutes after Francis. He was in abnormally high spirits.
�I found twenty bucks in the parking lot this morning,� Jeff said. �I�m telling you, you�ve got to start driving to work.�
Francis grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
�What�s wrong with you?� Jeff asked him. �I mean, you�re usually in a bad mood Monday mornings, but you look like you�re either gonna start yelling or crying.� He hesitated. �Please don�t start crying, man.�
�I don�t know,� Francis said. �Bad weekend, I guess. Depressing.� (He didn�t dare tell Jeff he was hallucinating. He�d be laughed out of the building.)
�What happened? Dog get run over?� Jeff said, smiling.
�That�s not funny,� Francis said, sounding angrier than he had intended to. He steadied himself. �And you know I don�t have a dog.�
Jeff looked somewhat confused. �I was just kidding, you know. Lighten up.�
Francis� phone began to ring. He answered it. It was the man from Friday afternoon. He had wasted no time in calling back. Francis made a motion with his hand telling Jeff to leave him alone. He did just that.
�Look,� Francis said, exasperated, �You can�t get your money back unless you have a valid complaint.�
�But I do!� the man shouted. 8:04 and he was already homicidally angry. �This looks nothing like the plans I brought in! Either you fix it, or I�m coming in there and getting my money back! And I mean it!� The man hung up.
�But I don�t handle those issues,� Francis told the dial tone. �You�ve got the wrong department.� He hung up the receiver. �Nothing I can do about it now.�
Francis imagined the man- he pictured him as a short, stocky bald man with thick glasses- coming into his office and beating him to death with those plans. It was a heavy folder, and it split as it collided with Francis� skull. Papers spilled everywhere. Francis chuckled. �He was asking for it. That folder was in rough shape to begin with.�
�And all I could picture,� Francis was telling Jeff as they left work that evening, �was that guy coming in and hitting me with this big heavy folder. What a loser.�
�Who? You, or the guy on the phone?�
�Very funny, Vargas. I�m not in the mood for your biting wit.�
�The day�s over,� Jeff said. �You can�t possibly still be that upset.� He muttered so that Francis couldn�t hear, �It was just a dog, man.�
�What?� Francis asked.
�Nothing.�
As usual, they arrived at Jeff�s car. �See?� he said, pointing to a shrub, �That�s where I found the twenty this morning. Right where that bird is.� The pigeon tilted its head as if to say, �Who? Me?� Jeff laughed at it. �Maybe it was his.�
�Yeah, sure,� Francis said emotionlessly. He paused. �Hey, Jeff?�
�Yeah?�
�You know Spanish, don�t you?�
Jeff cleared his throat. �S�, Se�or,� he said in an exaggeratedly deep voice.
�Do you know what perdida means?� Francis asked.
�Yeah,� Jeff said. �It means lost. But, like, if a girl was lost. See, if a guy were lost, then he�d be perdido. But for a girl it�s perdida.� He had a satisfied smile on his face. He loved feeling smart. �Why do you ask? That�s a weird question, even for you.�
�It�s not weird,� Francis said, somewhat shrill. �I�m just curious.� He looked from side to side awkwardly. �I gotta go. See you.�
Jeff got into his car. Francis walked away, shaking his head. �That was really slick,� he muttered. �Soon everyone will think you�re crazy.�
Francis walked an extra block before hailing a taxi. He wanted to stop for a coffee, and he knew there was a place nearby.
He entered the coffee shop and walked up to the counter, behind which a blonde girl stood, playing with her fingernails. She looked up and smiled a little too widely. �Can I help you?� she said. She�s too happy, Francis thought.
�Yeah, I�ll have a small iced coffee, dark, two sugars,� Francis said, taking out his wallet.
The girl pressed some buttons on the cash register. �That comes to $4.03,� she stated plainly. Francis paused for a second. Four dollars for a small coffee? That�s insane, he thought. Criminally insane. Still, he took out the money without a fuss and paid the very happy girl- Tina, according to her nametag. (Actually, not just Tina, Tina with a little star next to it and a heart over the �i�.) Tina left for a minute and then returned with Francis� coffee. She handed it to him.
�Have a nice day,� she simpered.
�You too,� Francis said with a feeble attempt at politeness. He grabbed a straw and then walked out.
