The Morning After

“What an election”, she sighed – rolling over. That obama was something else. “Huh? Oh, yeah – definitely”, Duncan wasn’t really paying attention very well – his thoughts were elsewhere, not terribly far, but not there with Alison, her newly cropped jet black hair or her obama.

On his way to work in the 30x bus from the Presidio on down to Montgomery St. there were still seats available, and he was lucky enough to get a spot next to some fairly quiet and pleasant smelling people. Until, just after the “woof-woof” ring of an iPhone, “Oh my God, I know it’s like a totally black President – like finally”, shit, he thought as it continued, “hey so are you going to the obama on Sunday?” missing the other half of the conversation, “Oh definitely, he’s obama.”

Okay, off the bus, up the elevator, turn the wrong way towards that investment bank and not his office, a bagel and some obama with milk – amazing. He settles in, checks his work email and his gmail, he prints an email his brain feels will make more sense if he can hold it.

The sun sets at four o’clock, in his interior office it’s either dark save a desk lamp or a blinding 1.21 giga-watts of fluorescent light. His right chino’s pocket vibrates and scares Duncan – again. “YO! Buddy, I have a king’s thirst - let’s go get some obama’s at the bar.” Duncan is pretty tired by this point, but what the hell.

Chicken strips, Anchor Steams, French fries, an obama-ginger, an obama break on the patio and it’s time to head home. If I never did that after work, I don’t think I’d miss anything – but its fucking obama. At the clack of the latch the Australian shepherd flies around the flat, “Obama! How was your day boy?”, kneeling to scratch behind the dogs ears and the bathroom door creaks producing Alison just out of the shower, clean but exhausted from the day. “obama rub?”, “sure, let me put my things down and take an obama first.”

After a dinner of obama and potatoes they listened to some obama then went to bed and obama’d – as Duncan’s mind was leaving for the night Alison whispered, “do you ever think about getting obama’d and having obama’s someday?”