Sunday, March 04, 2007

Being an asshole....

...and luring James into being one, too.
Oh...I had that idea in my mind for so very, very, very long now.
I just could not wait - as always when I feel slightly pissed off by work (dreadful clinic duty!) and my leg hurts too much.

It was last Friday in the afternoon.
The thought of realizing my sick minded plan bugged me for the whole day now and around 4 pm I finally met Foreman in the lab where he did some blood tests for an obese patient we had.
"Yo, Foreman!", I greeted him with a smirk.
Foreman looked up. "Up to no good again?"
I played the insulted. "Just in a good mood. It's Friday!"
Foreman turned to the screen again. "Yes...and duty this weekend..."
I shrugged. "Just a few hours." (In fact I planned to call in sick.)
The Beep! announced that the test was finished and I closed my eyes and swirled my index finger through the air like a mad magician.
A sigh confirmed that I was right.
I snatched Foreman's mug after checking that he did not drink from it yet, took a sip of his coffee and sat down on the desk.
"Any plans for the weekend?"
He was stuffing away the test result into the patient's file and gave me a surprised look. " Was that...?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Was that what?"
Foreman contemplated over the file.
After a while he answered: "An attempt to ask me if we'd spend some time together this weekend?"
I grinned. "In fact it was just a try to be polite and make conversation."
"Oh..." His teint darkened, so I think he blushed.
"But, hey, why not? We could go and have some drinks with our cuddly-wuddlies."
Foreman snickered. "Don't let him hear that..."
After flipping through the file again he nodded. "Mhm...we could do that. Sounds good, actually."
Yes! Strike!

I always wonder why Foreman and Chase seem to like hanging around with us 'cause that includes being with me. But they do and this gave me the chance to be an evildoer once again.
I shrugged again and emptied Foreman's mug. "Well, we could go to that new bar tomorrow evening. What was it called? Habana?"
A nod confirmed that. "Yes. I'll ask Chase if he hasn't planned anything else and call you tonight."
I suppressed a snicker and hopped off the desk. "Fine then. I'm off home now!"
(Isn't it odd he calls him Chase still? I could not imagine calling Jim Wilson now.)

With a whistle I went into my office, put on my coat and grabbed my backpack.
I was just about to leave the room when Jim came in ready to go home.
"Perfect timing, hm?", he smiled and kissed my cheek.
"Perfect!", I smiled and off we went.
On our way to the parking lot I told him about my conversation with Foreman.
Jim opened the driver's door and raised his eyebrows. "You do that just for the sake of being polite and playing a good boss who's interested in his team?"
I sat down in the passenger's seat and my grin told him a clear no.
"Would I want to know?", he asked and started the engine.
I raised my shoulders and pretended to think about it. "Mmmmmmm...."
"Yes. Yes, I think you would want to know."
James gave me a side glance. "Would I want to know now or would I chicken out if I knew too soon?"
I closed my eyes and put my finger on my lip. "Hmmm...let me think about that..."
Faux thinking.
"No. You would not want to know now. You...would want to know tomorrow on our way to the bar."
James shook his head. "You..."
We had to wait at the traffic light and he thumped the driving wheel with his fingers. "You... Ah! Drop it."
He did not have to explicitly tell me he thought I sometimes was impossible and too mean to bear. As if I didn't know that!
"That's part of my charm, honey. And you love me for that, too", I smirked and Jim just sighed 'cause he knew it was true.

I did not call in sick on Saturday.
James told me off when I tried to do so.
"There are patients, you know that? These people need our help and they will still need it if there is no Dr. House doing his clinic duty! The world is no paradise with just challenging cases! There is also your beloved clinic duty. Go, move your ass and do it!"
I tried to pout but immediately stopped after a harsh and warning gesture he made.
No - I don't know why he was in such a mood.
And I decided not to ask and just have my breakfast in peace.
"You are pouting into your mug....STOP IT!", James growled.
I slowly put the mug on the table again. "I was not."
"You are!"
I raised an eyebrow and just stared at him.
James sighed and blushed a bit. "I'm sorry...I just fear to give in again when I see your cute pout..."
Inwardly I smiled. It was a broad and happy and beaming and anticipating smile.
Outwardly I just looked blank.
He pointed at me. "You!"
I blinked. "Me?"
Another sigh, a shake of his head and he came around the table.
He stood before me and looked down at me. "We'll be late and it will be your fault!"

Um...we were late. Half an hour or so.
No severe I-thought-about-calling-in-sick-but-dropped-the-thought being late.
More a We've-been-stuck-in-a-traffic-jam being late.
Foreman didn't call us Friday night, so I thought he had just been to busy serving Chase's needs, getting him food and so on.
Before I could ponder about that Cuddy greeted me at my office tapping her heel to the ground.
"You are late, House!"
I did not answer and sat down. I knew I was late - so what?
She rolled her eyes and slammed a file onto my desk. I gave her a smile and off she was again.
Five minutes later on my way to the coffee machine a tired looking Foreman crossed my way.
(I'm sure Chase got hungry at five in the morning and he had to go and buy him roast chicken again....)
"YO, Foreman!!!"
My grin was almost too revealing, but he was too tired to recognize that.
"Mooooorn', House..."
I poured coffee into my red mug and handed it to him.
His expression changed from tired to surprised to shocked. No black mug in the early PPTH-morning can cause some person's worlds to crumble into pieces.
I pretended not to notice and relished my coffee from his black mug.
He stared a few moments into the black liquid and I turned to leave the common room.
I looked over my shoulder. "M?"
(Would he ask for his mug now?)
"I'm sorry, I was busy yesterday night (Oh, I bet he was busy...) and forgot to phone you."
I shrugged. "I noticed that. No...wait...In fact I did not notice 'cause I forgot you wanted to call."
I opened the door and was about to leave.
"Er...well...we would really like to go to that bar with you and Dr. Wilson."
"Fine", I nodded. "8 pm at our place, you'll pick us up."
"Rmpf..." And the door swung closed behind me.

The day was not worth mentioning. So...just think what you want to.
It was work.
Clinic duty.
Dreadful clinic duty with dumbasses, puke and other unpleasant things.
So let's forget about it.

The beginning of the evening in fact is worth mentioning.
So I mention it: It was NICE!
And now think what you want.
After we did what we did I had a shower and whistled a happy little tune.
"Greg?" The sound of the hairdryer was interrupted by Jim's call.
The sound of my whistling was interrupted, too.
The glass door to the shower was opened and Jim peeped in.
"Are you MAD?", I yelled. "Want to kill me with that hairdryer???"
The door closed again.
I continued whisteling and the hairdryer continued with it's noise.
When I stepped out of the shower and fetched my towel there it was again.
"What now? A razor blade?"
Jim rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "God...could you just stop it?"
I bowed. "God promises to stop it."
Another roll of his eyes. "I have the strange impression you're in an awfully good mood. Which usually means doom to your fellow humans."
"I won't tell you's too early", I smiled at him as sweet as chocolate and went off to dress.
A sigh was the only thing I heard.
And guess what?
The hairdryer again.

Right on time at 8 pm Chase honked the horn of his silver my-penis-is-longer-than-yours and we locked the door behind us to make ourselves comfortable in this spermblaster car. (I have the impression that I now know who bought the black yammies Jim mentioned...)
"Awfully nice to pick us up, Chasey", I broadly smiled and noticed the worried glance Foreman shot over his shoulder.
Chase made a face and decided not to answer but to say "Evening!"
James was as always the politer one and made conversation on our way to Habana.
Miracle-like we found a parking space right in front of the entrance and I hopped out.
"Is he high?", I heard Foreman whisper to James.
" NO!"
Pretending not to hear anything I opened the door and was greeted by fairly good music, the sound of stupid babbling, a cloud of cigar smoke and the smell of Havana Club and other high percentage beverages. THE place to be when you planned what I planned.
I stopped at the bar and let my eyes wander over the rows of bottles.
"Foreman, Chase...why not go ahead and search a nice place?"
The two just raised their eyebrows simultanously but did as they were told.
I rubbed my hands. "SO, Jimmy...."
He looked blank for a few seconds.
"Ah! You wanted to tell me something. Right!"
" we go..." And I told him of my evil masterplan....

With sugary smiles we then joined the two victims at their table.
"And? Already decided to drink a Caipirinha?"
They both shrugged and Foreman played the daredevil. "Mhm! Right!"
Chase's facial expression was more the but-I-know-where-this-will-lead-to thing but he did not complain.
Jim smiled into the menu and we ordered our special cocktails when the waiter arrived.
Oh, pleasant anticipation!
Chase searched the other tables for crisps, peanuts and other stuff to fulfill his perpetual needs and snatched the bowl from the young couple next to us. Those two were too absorbed in eating each other than bothering to guard their peanuts.
He happily munched and I was promptly annoyed by the noise he made.
But the smile was still there on my face.
" pills tonight?", Foreman asked me and took his Caipirinha out of the waiter's hand.
"I am just in a good mood, Foreman..."
Jim looked up and frowned at him which caused him to change the color of his face again.
Our little conversation was interrupted by a man from India who smashed a bunch of roses into Chase's face.
"Wonna buay rrroses? Beauttifful rrrred rrrroses?"
"Did anyone understand what that gentleman said?", he asked with his snobbish accent.
I leaned back in my chair. "He asked you if you want to buy beautiful red roses..."
Chase smiled up to the "gentleman". "Nnnno."
(Sometimes he's too snobbish to be true.)
I decided to buy a beauttiffull rrred rrrrose for James and the man toddled off to another table.
I noticed that Foreman seemed to wish to be somewhere else by then. And of course he was contemplating about the question why Chase did not have any sense for romantic.
But I managed to keep up a fairly plesant conversation and Jim managed to order new cocktails for all of us again and again and again.
Special ones for us (Virgin Colada) and Caipirinhas for Chase and Foreman.

Soon the point of no return was reached for both of them - their tongues refused to form the words they wanted to express and they clung more and more to each other.
It was my turn now to change the talk to more...delicate topics.
No one seemed to wonder why Jim and me were perfectly sober and the topic showed it's effect. The space between the two shrunk more and more and soon Foreman's hand disappeared underneath the table. The longer it stayed there, the more pleased Chase's facial expression became until he finally abruptly arose and ran to the gent's rooms.
James winked at me and secretly raised his thumb. I waggled my eyebrows and grinned back.
My plan seemed to work.
The evening went by and I was more than disappointed about the fact no one payed attention to Foreman and Chase obviously making out at the table.
Five Caipirinha later and at 2 in the morning Jim sadly shrugged and we decided to leave.
Foreman stumbled to his feet and leered at Chase.
"Wanto take a cab withem or prefer to have a walk now?", he asked Chase who now grinned and arose, too.
"Waaaaaaalk", he managed to say and now it was my turn to secretly raise a thumb.

Our ways parted at the door.
At least they seemed to part.
In fact we just pretended to call a cab and then followed the two victims close behind.
Two streets ahead they stopped and Chase pressed Foreman to a wall. Jim and me hid behind a corner and watched them.
Jesus Christ...they really had one over the eight and I should blush now writing this down. But who knows me knows, too, I don't blush but chuckle.
Yeas, as Chase would say, he went down on him on the boulevard.
Oh, this was bound to get noticed.
I don't know who called them, but a few minutes later they were dragged into a police car.
Jim and me burst into laughter at first but then looked at each other and said "Ooooops" simultanously.
What we wanted was to make them drunk and misbehave in public.
We did not want them to spend the night in jail.
Not even I wanted that.

Okay...we decided we could not do anything about it now and hailed a cab to have a few drinks at home and spend an awfully pleasant night sometimes interrupted by eruptions of laughter.
The look upon their faces was really priceless!

And yes - of course we got them out of jail the other morning.
And yes - of course we both promised not to tell anyone.
Well... I just write about it. I do not explicitly tell it someone, right?


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ja !! Sie sind BEIDE Arschlöcher!Große Arschlöcher!!

Vobei die Zeiten wo es wirklich Spass machte ihre Einträge zu lesen...Vorbei die Zeit wo sie sogar guten Inhalt hatten..Was ist nur los??? Gehirnschwund? Lupus??

March 04, 2007  
Blogger Dr. Gregory House said...

Why are you posting anonymously?

March 05, 2007  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home