Friday, May 4, 2012

Three months on an oil rig was enough for Timothy.  He always felt sea sick the first couple days after getting back on land.  His daughter had called him up three days ago and told him she was getting three days.  He called base and had them send a helicopter to pick him up.  Now, waiting nervously in his hotel room, sitting on the bed in his rented tux, he was starting to get a bit of acid reflux.  He brushed some crumbs off the powder blue pants, inspected the frilly front of his white button-up, made sure they were fluffed up just like the sales associate showed him.  His matching powder blue top hat rested beside him on the bed.  He wanted to make sure he blended in right, didn’t embarrass his daughter on her special day.  She was always telling him that he embarrassed her in front of her friends.  So he had rented himself the snazziest tux in the store, determined to do her proud.

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