A Man Called Stan A Man Called Stan Written by Jay A MAN CALLED STAN Copyright © 2003 Jay. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. iUniverse 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 www.iuniverse.com 844-349-9409 Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them. Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. 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ISBN: 978-0-5952-7414-7 (sc) ISBN: 978-0-5957-4620-0 (e) iUniverse rev. date: 11/19/2020 To all those beautiful girls who make life so complicated and so good Contents Chapter 1: STAN’S WEEKEND ����������������������������������������������������1 Chapter 2: STAN SOCIALISES ���������������������������������������������������20 Chapter 3: STAN GOES ON A PICNIC �������������������������������������42 Chapter 4: STAN DOES IT ���������������������������������������������������������61 Chapter 5: IT HAPPENS TO STAN �������������������������������������������80 Chapter 6: STAN GETS ON WITH IT ������������������������������������103 Chapter 7: STAN AND HIS MID-LIFE CRISIS �����������������������125 Chapter 8: STAN GOES AWAY �������������������������������������������������150 - vii - Chapter 1 the beginning (of this) STAN’S WEEKEND Early Friday Morning Stan awoke with his eyes already open� Daylight was slowly percolating through the curtains and filling his bedroom with a pale glow� It was a pleasant enough morning, but it left Stan largely unmoved� This was also literally true in a physical sense, as he lay there, not yet able to get into motion� He looked at the empty half of his bed and wondered if that was part of the inspiration for the emptiness that he felt in himself this morning� He decided that whether it was or not, it had been empty for far too long� Seeing the time, he faced the harsh reality that there was no way that he could steal a few more minutes in here� Pity� It may be lonely, but it was still his bed� He began his day with a long, drawn-out sigh and threw his covers off with an expression of sincere disgust� He dragged himself out of bed and regarded it as quite an achievement� Probably his only one of the day� No, it was too early to be so cynical� He should give the day a chance� Later on, he would be entitled to be cynical, after the day had proved itself to him� As always, he shuffled like a zombie to the shower, knowing that the only hope for full consciousness lay under its strong stream of water� On - 1 - 2 A Man Called Stan desperate days he had performed experiments and proved that no-one, himself included, could stay sleepy when assaulted by icy cold jets of shock� This ultra-low temperature treatment was only for desperate days though� There was no point in risking a cardiac arrest on a daily basis� Today was desolate, but not desperate� Standing in the roomy cubicle, he started the water and lethargically went through the motions� He studied the label on the bottle of shower-gel and disagreed with it� Sure, the goo smelt rather nice and fresh, but he certainly did not feel “Exhilarated and Invigorated”� During some lazy soaping, he realised that he had omitted an essential part of his morning routine� Not wanting to sink again into a bad habit a previous girlfriend had trained him out of; he rapidly rinsed and ended his shower prematurely� He emerged dripping from behind the sliding glass door and hurried over to the toilet� Almost simultaneously he flicked the lid up and began to pee� After a while, interest flickered through his face for the first time that day� He picked up his watch and watched the hands sweep round� When the stream eventually faltered and then stopped, a triumphant half-smile played over his lips� A full two minutes! After a weak attempt at drying himself he dressed with a slow determination, except for putting on a damned tie� That torture was left for last� As he entered the kitchen/living room area, he flicked the radio on� While munching some chocolate cereal and making his coffee he let the radio introduce him to the day� From the intensity of the idiotic babble of the DJ, he realised that it was Friday� He also realised that he could not be less excited by that fact� He thought about the last few weekends� He usually ended up in a bar, where what was around him always irritated him� The stupid conversations, the meaningless noise, the gross- ness of the interactions between people� He also got irritated with himself for being there again� Without fail, he would then get shamefacedly drunk� Not for him the slightly tooted party animal, he ignored the party and got completely pissed� He supposed that tomorrow night he would be crawling up the steps to his apartment’s front door again� No wonder he was not excited about the approaching weekend� He stirred five sugars into his strong and creamy coffee, burning his lips by sipping too soon, which was an entrenched part of his morning ritual� Every morning he promised himself that he would wait for it to cool the next the beginning (of this) STAN’S WEEKEND 3 day, but it always slipped his mind when the time came for that essential first sip� He blew on his coffee while he glanced at his watch to note the time� He also noted that he would be late for work� Fuck it, that was also part of every morning� He knew that he was good at what he did, so his job was safe� He did not mind annoying his boss, who was a grumpy prick anyway� Stan sniggered at the image of his boss’s round, red, bald head with the face wearing THAT expression which seemed to be reserved for Stan� Stan speculated that it might be the same expression which he wore when his daughter brought home her turd of a boyfriend, but had warned her daddy to be nice� As he slowly sipped and savoured his coffee, he wondered as he very often did, how he would cope without coffee� As always, he concluded that he would not be able to cope without it� Grimacing when he got to the syrup of undissolved sugar at the bottom, he laid the mug in the cluttered sink and ambled back to his bathroom� He brushed his teeth thoroughly� Partly because he was conscientious about this process as he knew that his high sugar intake endangered his teeth, but more because it delayed his arrival at work� Before leaving the bathroom, he uttered a mildly filthy expletive as he remembered that he had forgotten to put deodorant on� It was a good thing that he put some on now, as today was going to be an absolute scorcher� Being at work would not be improved by stinking like an unwashed manual labourer� Especially as that new secretary seemed have a great pair of breasts lurking under her blouse� He put his tie on and then presented his reflection for inspection in the mirror� He smiled at the face which grinned back mischievously� The reflection was not extremely good looking, but it was agreeable� What Stan liked about it, was that it looked like the man he was� Which was appropriate, considering that it was him� He ended the smile of greeting and watched his mood of this morning be displayed in the blank expression that returned as soon as his face was allowed to assume its natural expression of his emotions� With a shrug he excused the lack of sparkle� There was not much to be excited about this morning� He packed his bag for gym and threw in a large water bottle� He did not really feel like gym after work, but it would kill some time� Also, it had to be admitted that he was trying to get a head start on working off the guilt which he would surely accumulate over the weekend for treating his body poorly� He picked up his briefcase, shouldered his bag, and headed for the front door� When he got there, he placed it all on the floor with a resigned air and started searching for his keys� Six minutes later, he 4 A Man Called Stan was disconcerted� Suddenly inspiration struck and he rushed to the laundry hamper� He rooted around in its smelly contents and plucked out a crumpled pair of baggy short pants� He delved into the pockets, and with a victorious yell withdrew his keys� He opened the door, picked up his bags and crossed the threshold into the fiercely bright day� Dropping the bags, he flipped his shades down to protect his eyes from the glare, and then suddenly stopped as if flash-frozen in mid- motion� He learned to one side, a frown of concentration furrowing his brow� A huge fart blasted out, the explosion almost lifting him off his feet� Smiling with satisfaction, he pocketed his keys, slammed the door shut, picked up his bags again and tried to remember where he had parked his car last night� After a minute of industrious thinking he had drudged the memory up� He sauntered to his car, threw his bags in the boot and got in� There, he was done� As he started his car, panic engulfed him briefly� Where was his laptop? He hoped it was at work� He could not be bothered to go back to his apartment to look� He pulled away, and then stopped� If his laptop was not at work, he would have