Not So Spiffy
"Have a spiffy afternoon!"
Spiffy? Who does she think she is? Besides – "Afternoon? It’s 11:20."
"Well, I can’t very well say good morning. Plenty of people have eaten lunch by now, so it’s not really morning."
I should just let it go, but I rise to the bait. "‘Noon’ is 12:00. 11:20–"
"11:21 now!"
"11:21 is clearly before noon."
My arm moves as if by its own volition, and she’s on her back, making little gurgling noises, the letter opener standing upright in her neck.
Damn. Looks like it’s back to the job ads. Again.
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