“Christ! Rhng! Dammit!” Heather threw her cellphone over the fence and into the trees. She would retrieve it later, but for now she was too angry. Her friends looked over at her with interest. Allie spoke.
“What was that about?”
“My fucking manager left me a voicemail. Have I told you about him? He’s the literally worst person I’ve ever met, I’m not even joking.”
“Worse than Hitler, Heather? Worse than Hitler?”
“I haven’t met Hitler. Have I. He’s the worst person I have ever met personally. He’s always breathing really close to me and repeating everything anybody says in a high-pitched baby voice like they just said something retarded, he lies to the customers, he drives this stupid muscle car, he looks exactly like a shaved bear…” At this, Keith perked up.
“Is his name Byron de Veer?”
“YES. YES HIS NAME IS BYRON de VEER and I HATE HIM.”
Allie opened herself a beer with an understanding face. “Well he sounds like a creep, but he can’t be that bad, Heather.”
Keith shook his head slowly and continued to do so as he replied, “No. No. He is. This guy—I know this guy. She’s right–he’s an absolute prick, believe me. We were kids together; went to the same school. Believe me, if he’s anything now like he was then, I would quit if I were you, Heather. He is insane. He ate literally nothing but Lunchables for like two and a half years straight, I’m serious. Ham and cheese Lunchables, three meals a day. He’s not a human being.”