[Chapter 1] Where I return home from the bar

The conversation went on for another hour or so. I really was pondering what to do. The requests to come to the party were getting more and more direct. The next one was this weekend and I was still trying to avoid giving the answer.

"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"
"He didn't go to a party. His husband refused. For a faggot he sure is a prude. Anyway Michael is in the basement."
"The basement?"
"Y'know. 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.
"He had a gigantic bonus coming. I'm talking high six figures. Never saw a cent. He traded it just so he could keep a job"

Interesting. I was gathering pieces here and there. It was obvious that those yearly parties were basically orgies with the upper management. But there had to be something more to it.

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.

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