David Burrows Office Man. Episode 2

(Warning: Contains strong language and scenes of urination)

Episode Two

Tuesday

I’m literally pissing everywhere. I’m pissing up and down, round and round and I’m getting paid for it. Company time and I’m having a big old piss at their expense. I just hope no-one comes in while I’m pissing. I hate that because then they start talking, like it’s OK to talk at the urinal. I don’t care that we’re at work, why are you talking to me, here, while we’re both holding our penises and having a piss? God, I bet someone’s going to come in right now, just because I’m thinking about it.            

Fuck, I knew it. Someone’s coming in. I hope they go in the toilet. No, shit they’re standing next to me. I don’t want to look across and see who it is though because they’ll think that I’m trying to get a look at their nob. Next thing and everyone at work will be calling me gay boy Burrows or the toilet flasher or the penis watcher. Shit, they’re undoing their belt and, yep, they’ve started to piss and I’m still pissing. This is the longest piss ever. I just hope they don’t start talking to me.

“Alright, Dave.”

Fuck, it’s Tom sideburns talks while we piss Delaney. What the fuck's he doing in here talking to me. We never talk in the real world and now he wants to have a good old chin wag. No thanks wanker. Back-off.

“Oh, alright Tom,” I venture back. I can’t believe that I’m still pissing.

“How’s things?"
I’m pissing Tom and you’re talking to me so not great fuckwit.

“Fine, yeah. Great, actually, really fucking great.” I don’t know why I said that.

“Great. You know my bands playing tonight.” Oh shit, here we go. Tom’s fucking band. I don’t care about your band Tom or your sideburns. “At the Tavern. You should come along.”

I’d rather stand here pissing and talk to the entire fucking company than go and see your turgid excuse for a band, you stupid moronic, nob. Tom just finished pissing and I’m still going at it.

“Oh, right, yeah, maybe, I’ll have to check.” I have nothing to check you fool. I’m just not going to turn up.

“Everyone’s coming, so.”

“Everyone?”

“Yeah,” says Tom arsewipe Delaney, buckling up. I’m still pissing. It’s more of a dribble now.

“Even the new girl?”

“Sue, yeah, said she was.”

“Right, well.”

If Sue was going maybe I should go. It would almost be like a date. Fuck, I’ve started pissing again. I thought I was done, but it was a false stop.

“See you around,” says Tom fuckwit Delaney. Will do you big twat.
If Sue was going to see his band, then so was I. Still pissing. I can’t believe it. It's like Victoria Falls down there.

I'm listening to Tom fuckwit Delaney's band and they're fucking awful. What a massive surprise. He's up on stage jumping around like he's someone special. You're not George Michael Tom, you're not even Paul fucking Young. What an absolute twat.

Sue's standing next to me bobbing up and down, but it's just for show. She looks as bored as me. She probably wishes she was somewhere quiet with a cup of tea so we could talk about ducks again. God, she's gorgeous. Look at her. Pert breasts tucked inside that tight top. Hair the colour of caramel. You're talking absolite bollocks Dave and I don't even care.

"Aren't they great," says Sue. Oh fuck, seriously.

"Yeah, really shit." Luckily she can't hear me. "Really fucking awful. A big bag of turgid shit. A large vacuous mass of pukey twat juice."

"Yeah, so good."

"A cracked anus of a band. A veritable cacophony of shit. My ears are fucking..." the music stops and it's deafeningly quiet. "Fucking bleeding!"

"Sorry?" says Sue.

"Drink?"

"Please," says Sue. What shall I get her? Sex on the beach? Perhaps a deep screw? "Just a diet coke please." Diet fucking Coke isn't going to get her pissed.

"Right." Obviously she wants a vodka in that. Off to the bar.

Excuse me people I'm on a mission. Yes you fatso and you skanky girl with the tattoo on your neck. Move out of the way, horny, young and single man coming through. Fuck it's Doug Williams. Shit why did he have to be at the bar. Maybe I can stand over there out of the way and he won't see me.

"Dave," Doug shouts at me. He's wearing his work clothes to the pub. How fucking embarrassing is that?

"Doug," I say standing next to the fat twat.

"Look at the norks on that barmaid," says Doug. No I won't Doug because no-one says norks anymore you brainless, inept wanker. And no, I'm not going to stand here with you and objectify a women because I need a drink for Sue, who I intend to get pissed and get off with. "I'd give anything for five minutes alone with them." And I'm sure that's likely you ugly as sin bastard.

A vodka and diet Coke for the lady and a pint of bitter for Dave. Yes, just like a date. This is it. Tonight's the night. The big one. Just keep it together Dave. Steady hands. Don't say anything stupid. Don't stare at her breasts again otherwise she'll think I'm only after one thing. Keep it rock-steady Dave. Rock-steady. Out of my way people. I'm a man with two drinks and only ones for me. The other is for that girl over there...talking to Tom sideburns, in a band and wears an earring Delaney. Fuck. What an absolute bastard.

I'm pissing at the urinal. It's a sad piss. I just had to get out of there. Why does she keep talking to him? What do they have to talk about? He's probably going to get off with her now. Plus, I have a vodka and diet coke to drink now as well as my beer. That's four quid down the fucking drain. Fuck, someone's coming in. Don't look Dave, they could be a bender. You don't want to encourage them.

"Alright, Dave."

Fuck, it's Tom the bastard, girlfriend stealer Delaney.

"Alright."

"I think I'm in with Sue. We're going on for a drink afterwards." Fucking priceless. "She's a cracking girl." And brain dead apparently. I'm still pissing, while Tom pisses like the wind Delaney is already buckling up.

"See you later, Dave." Not if I can help it period stain

"Yeah, right."
And then he disappears outside.

That's it then. The Sue dream is over and I have a spare diet Coke and vodka. I think something’s wrong with me. It isn't right to be pissing so much. I'm probably fucking dying. That would teach Sue, if I just fucking died right now at the urinal. I hate Tuesdays. And guess what? I'm still pissing!

Check back next week for the third installment of David Burrows Office Man. A Blog-Com.

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