Frank drove to work and thought to himself what if wanted to be called Leonard from now on? Who’s business is it anyhow?
“In order to work here we would like you to use your legal name” Barney Sims, Frank’s boss, rolled out the rules in a flat, official voice. He still reminded Frank of Junior on Hee Haw.
Nancy, the boss’s bitch, who pranced when she walked, giving her a little school girl appearance, screamed out Frank’s name over the store’s public address system.
“Who?” Frank said, over the phone in to the system. “My names’s Leonard.”
“No, your name’s, Frank last time I checked your time card?”
Rocking back and forth on his boot heels Frank said, in a snide I don’t give an shit way “My name is Leonard.”
“Fine,” Nancy whispered shoving a manilla file folder in a beat down, gray, dented cabinet.
“Frank . . .I mean Leonard, take out the trash and mop up the bathroom floors Frank.”
The name’s Leonard not Frank.”
“Sure, whatever name you want.” Frank.”
2 phone lines started to flash, like were in an argument trying to get someone’s attention. After picking up the second line, Nancy’s face went soft, pouty, even sexy. Frank felt guilty lusting for this woman. He imagined the taste of stale, red wine and barroom smoke on Nancy’s breath; her tongue pushing in to his. The. mop handle became slippery in Frank’s hands. He felt small, salty beads of sweat dripping from the arches of his arm pits.
The Leonard game between he and Nancy went on for a solid month. Other than
short, sharp verbal exchanges neither said a word to the other Friday afternoon. Frank is moving boxes, brown, dusty and collapsing from weight.
Nancy slid in the dusty room her back against the bent, warped shelving. Frank was so close he saw the tiny, black fuzz running across her upper lip like a bad lipstick dyed lawn. She smelled of cigarettes and woman’s sex sweat.
Frank pushed himself hard against Nancy, heat pulsating through his body, trying to break through to her.
After five minuets of solid flesh to flesh contact, Nancy pushed Frank away stiffening her
arms, palms flat.
“What the hell,” Frank rasped. “I thought we, you. . .”
“I thought you were Frank. But you’re Leonard not Frank,” Nancy laughed, raised an
eye brow walked down the hall.