Blake Wilson, a man of thirty-two; his girlfriend, Joanna; and her younger brother of twenty-one, Olly, are having breakfast in the kitchen of their run down, hardly ever tidy apartment on Powder Horn Street, Skid Row, Los Angeles. Blake and Joanna got the place on needing to move in together, get a fresh start at life, and get away from their past woes and blunders. Although, one might say they didn't get very far from them, as for instance, the street corner where Blake once got in a drunken fight where he soiled his pants, and had that soiled ass handed to him by a kid half his size, is just around the block. And as for the 'fresh start', I wonder how fresh it can be when it's Powder Horn Street, Skid Row. As for Olly, he's just sponging off Joanna till he can be done with school, get a proper job, and afford a place. Blake and Joanna are dressed for work, and because it's casual Friday, Blake happens to be wearing a T-shirt with print on it like it's a suit and tie.

"What's that you're wearing to work?" Joanna had asked him

"Casual Friday, dude," he had responded. Then Joanna told him it doesn't mean he should dress to get fired. That in that stupid shirt, he'd be making a mockery of his office and profession; That he might as well show up in a clown costume and blow party horns on the noses of his bosses. And Blake just told her that's for next casual Friday. And that the way she's dressed all covered up in that nun's outfit, she's spoiling casual Friday and should be reproached. That, where are those boobs?—Blake is a junior editorial assistant at Prowse Cantwel Publishing, a second tier book publishing house; You know, that kind of publishers that may ask for money from the author before any degree of publishing commences. Blake's junior-editorial-assistant job still ought to be a well paying job if he can get his head out of his ass and demand it... Or just kiss the right ass.

Joanna herself is secretary for the Procurement Manager at Hinkel Paints, a paint manufacturing company with the headquarters there in Los Angeles, where Joanna works; and three branches in the rest of California. Interestingly, the site where Joanna's office is situated actually is the site where Blake's publishing house used to be situated and vice versa, before Hinkel Paint Company decided they needed expansion and that the site where Prowse publishing used to be situated, along with the motel and warehouse beside it were perfect for their plans, so they offered the publishing house and sundry something they couldn't resist, even with their old site which is absolutely conducive for the publishing company and it's own expansion plans. So both companies swapped sites, and till this day, remain in their new sites. Blake and Joanna vaguely know that their companies used to be located somewhere else, but they don't have a clue that it was right where each other's companies used to be situated. And this is info given them during their orientation week on starting work at the companies. Of course there was an introductory class with a brief history of the companies. I guess Blake and Joanna aren't the kind to pay attention in class. If they were, maybe they wouldn't lament so much about where they are in life. Like me.

So Blake's workplace is right where Joanna's would have been, and vice versa. But they both don't know of this interesting fact. I bet my ass they'd appreciate it if they did. It would make one of those fun stories couples tell other couples, or it would tell Blake and Joanna something about their relationship horoscope, or something like that.

Mr. Fred Hattigan, the Procurement Manager Joanna works for, always brags to his colleagues the he must be extremely good at his job. That he procured Joanna; one of the greatest, most robust assets of the company. And that he intends to manage that asset dutifully and masterfully, and that Joanna herself can testify to his proficiency. And his colleagues cheer him on, telling him how lucky he is, how much they wish they were in his shoes. Joanna, with a salary of $19 per hour; Blake wishes he had her job, as he earns 17 an hour, and is not exactly passionate about his junior editorial assistant job.

Olly's dressed for classes at college; his backpack hangs on the chair. He's a Computer Science undergrad at UCLA; there on a merit scholarship after being valedictorian at high school. Although, he wishes he could get more girls.. or just one, even.

Joanna sees Blake look at his watch yet again. "It's the third time you checked the time since you sat. What are you so anxious about?"

"Show-up time at the office is now 7:30. As if 8 O'clock wasn't bad enough. The new management's coming in today, and they're already making changes before even getting there. Bunch of jerks."

"Whoa!" says Olly, "New management! I just hope you don't get downsized, bro. That's usually what happens when there's;" he does air quotes, "new management."

"Damn, he's right, honey," says Joanna. "It's happened to us. When the place our dad—God rest his soul—used to work got 'new management'(she does air quotes), he was outta the job so fast he still had a full two-week subscription for the bus to work."

"That why he shot himself?" Abie, the girl.. or woman(age 34) next door, calls in from outside the closed front door.

"Screw you," Joanna calls back. Then to Blake, "And here you are, showing up to work dressed as a clown. It's like you put a sign on your back that says, 'I'm not a valued employee. Downsize me first.' "

A moment of silence as Blake ponders downsizement… "Look," he then says, "no one's getting downsized, okay? Something like that 'bout to happen at the office, I'll be one of the first to know. I'm an editor, guys. Nothing gets past the editors. We're the final step in every process. We edit everything."

Olly chuckles. "Then I guess you'll be editing your own termination letter."

They chuckle. "And you're not an editor, dude," Olly adds, "You're a junior editorial assistant. It has the word, 'ass' right there in it, which couldn't be more apt because no one is a bigger ass than you Blake Wilson." Their laughter heightens.

"And no one's a bigger turd than you, Oliver Whatever Whatever," says Blake, delighting at his genius.

"Touché," says Olly.

"Yeah, try and beat that, you stinky turd," Blake adds.

Olly faces the laughing Joanna, "Joke's on you, sis: It means your boyfriend doesn't care to know your last name. And your brother's middle name."

"I have a brother?" Joanna retorts.

"Touché," says a subdued Olly.

Joanna looks to the wall clock, then faces Blake.

"Well you better haul ass coz it's already 7:10. You don't want them using you to set an example."

"Yeah, I better get going." He takes the last bite of his sandwich, downs the coffee, gets up, straightening his attire. "Please help me with the dishes, honey. I'm running late."

"Olly'll get 'em," Olly winces, "his classes don't start till 8:30," says Joanna.

"I'm not good with dishes, man."

"Rise above it, son," Blake teases, "You're a special *special boy. Just put your mind to it and concentrate. There's so much you could do."

"Get a dishwasher, man," says Olly.

"Maybe after we kicked you out we could afford one," says Blake, and they chuckle.

"Hey, how about me and my loving sister, Jo, here, kicked you out of *our house so that we could afford the dishwasher then." More giggles. "After all we all know she makes the real money around here."

And Blake has to laugh. Or is he feigning?

"And besides," continues Olly, "you're getting downsized, bro, so you better start sucking up to her real good, you're gonna need her, man, hard times ahead."

They giggle.

"He speaks from experience," says Blake.

"Yeah, but good thing now I'm an honors student, eh, eh?"

"Bullshit," says Blake. "You've been in college now for like.. 7 years or something."

They giggle.

"Isn't that what you'd like to think after spending a decade in college?" says Olly, evoking more giggles.

"Baby," says Joanna, "you're running late."

"Oh darn, yeah." Blake leans in, kissing her goodbye. "Bye, baby."

"Bye, honey."

"Be good in school today, son," says Blake, ruffling Olly's hair.

"Not the hair, man," says Olly, warding him off.

"Don't poop your pants in college again, son," says Blake, heading for the door.

"We're having breakfast here goddammit," says Olly.

Blake chuckles, shutting the front door behind him.

"What an ass," says Olly.

"Tell me about it," Joanna adds. For the next few moments, Joanna and Olly enjoy their breakfast in perfect silence, then the chirping sound of a car key fob gets Joanna's attention. "Oh hell no!" She rushes to a window, opens it, sticks her head out and sees Blake about to get in their 2002 Camry parked in the street. Her glare tightens. "Hey! What are you doing?! It's my turn to take the car!" she yells.

"What!" says Blake, feigning surprise, "How come?!"

"You had it yesterday, idiot!"

Abie appears, heading to get in the car with Blake. "Blake honey, drop me off at the salon, my hair needs a touch-up."

"Hey, nobody's dropping anybody off. It's my turn with the car!" Yells Joanna.

"Oh yeah!" says Blake, feigning realization, "That's right, baby, but I really really need it. I'm running late."

"Don't you dare!" Joanna exhorts.

"I'm sorry, honey, I'll make it up to you, promise."

"He loves you, honey," says Abie to Joanna, "but all you do is whine. There's only so much he can take, you know."

"Okay, shut up, Abie," says Blake.

Joanna just glares at them.

"I'm sorry, baby," says Blake, "I'll make it up to you." He blows her a kiss. "I love you. You the best." He and Abie get in the car and zoom off. Joanna's pissed, but she knew how this was probably gonna end.

"Son of a goddamned bitch, son of a goddamned bitch!" She removes herself from the window, shutting it.

"He's a real charmer," says Olly.

"Shut up and eat your breakfast. Oh I'll get him good for this! I'll get him good!"

"If it's gonna be messy or disgraceful just make sure I'm there to watch."