Open Duel- Last Time

That day, I thought of everything in terms of lasts.

This is the last time I have to shave. Scruffiness is unacceptable, you always said. All the while you looked at me with that look of contempt in your eyes, -you know the one- knowing, deep in your heart, that you were better than me, a lowly clerk.

The last time I have to put on a tie. Over, under, twist. Hanging no lower than the belt buckle. A good employee always looks respectable. That's me, I say with a smile and a chuckle when all I want to do is bust your pathetic little sneering face in. That's me. A good employee to the last. Regulation tie- black, of course, matching the black pants and black shoes. A white button down shirt- just like you. They're emulating me, you say, as you sign another order for a mandatory dress code, a good leader inspires loyalty from his men.

His men. I can see you actually saying that. Like this is a freaking war movie. Right there, by the water cooler, that's the front. We need more men to fill that gap at the vending machine, stat. We're getting flanked on our right- the only solution is more pointless, droning, bullshit from yours truly.

This is the last time I back out of my garage, barely miss the garbage can as always, -I never was good at backing up, I guess now I never will be- the last time I adjust my tie in the mirror like a good boy and the last time I go the prescribed, regulation, 20 mile per hour speed limit through my neighborhood with its precisely manicured lawns and smiles almost as fake as the tits on the housewife who owns that smile. The last time.

This is the last time I make the long walk up the stairs to my -your- office. The last time I talk to the receptionist, flirting with her even though I know she's vaguely creeped out by me. The last time you flash me that condescending smile and get me moving on to whatever asinine, asiten, asieleven, asitwelve task you've got for me.

The last time I point this pistol in your face.

The last time I grip the detonator on the bomb strapped to my chest.

The last time.