Lover Boy

A large cardboard box in the middle of my office floor. I eyed it suspiciously from the door, expecting Johnny Knoxville to come busting out of it at any second. I sidled to my desk, refusing to turn my back on it. At the same time, I scanned the office for hidden cameras. And for the first time in the five years that I had occupied that office, I truly noticed all of the little arcane details. "What a dump," I muttered. I nudged the box with my foot. It was heavy, but not heavy enough to contain a man. I set my coffee on the desk and produced my keys from my jacket pocket. I used my car key to punch through the tape. No packing labels or invoices taped to the box, I noted as I pried the flaps up. A layer of crumpled brown paper lay beneath the flaps. I plunged my hands into the paper. No use being delicate at this point. I went at the paper like a crazed terrier, shoving fist fulls of the paper back between my legs. I saw a patch of shiney vinyl and I smelled that new rubber smell that reminded me of new school supplies. I pulled the folded heap of vinyl from the box.

It was a hideous thing!! The enclosed invoice showed the last four digits of MY credit card number. A life-sized, anatomically complete, inflatable Elvis doll. This had to be Ginger's work. Clearly she had ordered it off of Amazon using my account and had not thought to change the shipping address. "Eeesh," I shuttered at the thought of a flushed Ginger lying in bed next to Vinyl Elvis, lit cigarettes hanging from their mouths. I wanted to kick this guy's ass but I suddenly felt foolish about laying into a lumpy pile of vinyl right there in the office.

Footsteps in the hallway. I struggled to shove the deflated hunka-hunka burning love back into the box. I folded the flaps back down frantically.

"Jeff." It was Mr. Bennett's voice.

"Goodmorning, sir." I stood and spun around to face him.

"Whatcha got there?" Mr. Bennett pointed with his chin as he took a sip of coffee from the chipped Boss-of-the-Century mug.

"That? That's nothing, sir. It's a uh birthday present for my nephew. He's turning six tomorrow..." I was a bad liar and I could feel my collar getting scratchy. I loosened my tie.

I could see Mr. Bennett's eyes squinch up the way they did when he grew skeptical. "Jeff, that looks like a um..." he gestured towards the box with his coffee mug. I turned. My heart nearly shattered my sternum. Shit! Six inches of flaccid penis protruded from beneath one of the flaps. I was going to kill Ginger. I was going to kill her!!!!!