At the Bar

Richard was sitting in a bar with his favourite frenemy Martin. Nursing a glass of a crisp pear cider. Sure they had a bitter and vicious rivalry at work, but once that was done, it was not unusual for them to head together for a bar and drown the sorrows together. Both of them equally miserable - although for a different reasons.

"You know how it is" - he said while taking another sip - "I knew married life would change our relationship, but I had no idea how much, and how miserable I'd become". He took another before continuing "You know - she always talked how she'd want to be stay-at-home wife, even though she finished a prestigious university with a fucking medical degree. I just always fucking assumed that this would mean she'd take care of said house! Y'know, and I'd not have to hire and pay for a damn maid. Sure there's that upside that I can now fuck a maid when she >doesn't feel like it<, but that doesn't change a fact, that I still have to pay her for what my lovely wife should be doing".

In response Marty just nodded his head and took a sip of a deep black Guinness from his tall glass.

"Now kids. Don't let me fucking get started on kids". Richard rambled on, while drinking a shot of vodka, and chasing it with yet another mouthful of cider. "I assumed - again - that since she wanted a kid - she would take care of children when we got one. Right?"

"Right". His companion offered confirmation helpfully.

"Right. I'd not have assumed I'd have to pay for a live-in wet nurse, because >she doesn't believe in a formula!< bit she won't let little vampire eat her breasts either!" husband shook his head saying that completely resigned, before "Sure the breast and lactation play with a nurse was amazing, and you know - I'm into that. But at the same time that was yet another mouth I had to feed."

The though of the milky breasts of Anita gave him an idea to order a White Russian, but luckily he stopped myself in time, and just ordered another cider.

"Then there was baby sitters - well - yes I'm technically still fucking that brunette one. But you get the idea. Not how I imagined my life y'know". He finished his tirade and leaned back, while pushing the glass up to squeeze last few drops of out of it.

Marty was a good listener, he let the husband finish his rant. Before starting his own about how all women are really just whores and gold diggers who go after his family fortune and leave him once they find he's disowned. How his ex-mother-in-law was still demanding a booty calls despite old hag being well into her 50s by now. Leaving silent the fact that he didn't particularly mind as she was still a perfect piece of ass despite her age. It was just that he was on her call that was irking him.

He then transitioned smoothly to complaining how on the other hand he almost went home with a 17 years old after last party, and how fucking bouncers should do their job properly wedding out a jail-baits. Say what you will about Marty, he does not make stupid mistakes like that. And he wasn't paranoid either. His father's position made him a target.

Suddenly Marty's demeanour changed, like he suddenly sobered up a bit. "You know what, I've learned something good recently. You know those company parties I never get invited too, and you keep declining?"

"Yea, what about them?" the husband responded with mediocre interest "I keep declining because they insist I have to take my wife with me, and that bitch won't go" he added in a way of explanation.

"That's the thing, that is a reason I don't get invited. I won't marry again just to get a fucking promotion."

"You need to marry to get a promotion? That's news to me"

"Get married and go to a party. I mean you're to stupid to notice? don't tell me you have not noticed? Every time someone gets married, they get an invitation to a party. From what I've seen - that those that do attend, either get fast tracked for a promotion, sometimes several steps in few months, or soon they get fired or quit. If you refuse to long, well let's say you might need to look for other employment soon too". Marty made his case suddenly agitated.

"Well. Might have to take wifey to the next one then". Richard nodded his head to confirm he sees the logic "I'll ask her tonight!"

"Of course you will" he companion nodded his head, but his mischievous smile indicated he does not truly believe that.

The conversation went on for another hour or so. With husband pondering the problem as deeply as toughly 1‰ of in blood permitted. The requests to attend the party were getting more and more direct after all. If what Marty was saying was true, he was risking loosing the job.

"Do you remember Michael?" Marty asked
"Michael from acquisitions?"
"Yes, he was a rising star in the department. You know where he is now?"
"No. Enlighten me"
"In a fucking Nowhere, Oklahoma. I'm not even kidding, that's and actual name. He didn't go to a party. His husband refused. For a fag he sure is a prude. Anyway. He's doing taxes for farmers now. And Jannice? Didn't go either. She's in the basement"
"The basement?"
"I mean 3rd floor"
Right. A 3rd floor. A place for people who are to useful to get rid of, but not good enough to ever rise in the ranks. Place where worker ants slaved away in the open space.
"She had a gigantic bonus coming. I'm talking high six figures. Never saw a cent. I've head she traded it just to keep a job. Not the job mind you."

Interesting. I was gathering pieces here and there. I wasn't an idiot. It was obvious that those yearly parties were basically orgies with the upper management. But I always thought it was more of an option than a requirement.

It was time to make a decision. Do I go home now, while I'm still not completely drunk, then talk to my wife. Maybe fuck her in the process, or at least fuck a maid. On the other hand I could just procrastinate, drink tonight with Marty and talk with her in the morning. Tough choice.

Like the story? Like this path? Make sure to show it by giving this page a thumb before moving on to the next!