Once A Loser, Always A Loser

 Excusing himself from the woman's clutches while she laughed at him, he started towards the other houses, sorting the mails and dropping them hurriedly into their boxes.

His clothes stuck to his body with sweat and coffee changing the color from blue to a musty brown color.

Before four o'clock, he was done delivering the mails and he was back to the office.

His stomach rumbled hard, getting the other workers to giggle at him.

"You should eat something," one of them said. "It would help with the sound."

"Sure," he smiled back not seeing the hint of sarcasm in their words.

"And incase you're wondering, eating from home would be cheaper as that would save you a lot of money," a worker advised.

"I'll do that," he sighed in response, walking to his boss's office.

"Sir," he mumbled, getting an old man in his early sixties to look up. His glasses were large, taking over sixty percent of his face frame.

"Hey, Greg. Come on in," the man smiled pointing to an empty chair before his table.

"I'm not staying for long sir. I've got work," declined the man. The offer was generous but what he was about to ask for could lead him to trouble.

"Okay," the old man leaned further into his chair. "Then why are you here?"

Greg wondered if it was the right thing to do, but he knew if he did not do anything, he could die.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to come out clean.

"Sir, can I please have some advance of my salary because I want to get something to eat?" he blurted out to the surprise of his boss. "You see, I haven't eaten all morning and I had to…"

The man held up a finger, interrupting Greg, "What is this?"

"This is me begging for…"

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean, what job do you do?"

"I deliver mails sir."

"And?"

"That is all sir."

"Are we a charity organization?"

"No sir."

"Have I ever given you or anyone in this organization an advance before?"

"No sir."

"Then I think you know what my answer should be," the man said with a straight face. "You can close the door on your way out."

That was a hard one to swallow as he watched his boss get back to work. Taking a slight look at the office window, he decided it was time to head home since he was done for the day.

"Alright, thank you for your time," he sighed, leaving the office as the man went on about his work, ignoring his worker.

***

Arriving home, tired and exhausted, he found Damien and his friends having a party at the front lawn.

"Oh great," he sighed, walking briskly to avoid being seen by the little group but that did not end well.

"Hey! Loser!" Damien yelled out but Greg didn't want to turn. If he did, he would be hooked. He had had a long day, he just wanted to get into his bedroom and sleep.

"I'm talking to you damn it!" he yelled. If he didn't stop, he knew what awaited him and it caused him to halt in his steps. "That's more like it."

"Hello Damien," he greeted. "And friends."

"Hey, can you guys remember yesterday when he turned into a cleaner at the party?" bawled Damien in the pool, drinking from a carton of orange juice. "I remember that like it was yesterday."

"Ha ha," chuckled Greg, trying to ease the embarrassment. "It was yesterday Damien. Thank you for that quick reminder."

"Hey, are you hungry?" Damien took up a slice of pizza which he dropped onto the ground. "You can have that one. It's for you."

Greg stared at the pizza on the ground, closing his eyes to think of other things. He looked at the cars in the garage and started to change the colors in his mind. That was a better distraction.

"I saw him today trying to deliver mail to me and he looked hilarious!" the woman who had poured coffee on him laughed, getting everyone to laugh out loud in response.

It was funny to them, but to him he was having the worst time of his life. He watched them dive into the pool wishing they would get to the bottom and never get out.

Seeing them continue without paying him any heed, he found that to be his queue to leave as he did so, heading for his bedroom.

***

 Walking across the hallway, he hoped Petra would not be mad at him anymore. He didn't like her angry at him.

She was all he had that was working out well for him. He wouldn't say a hundred percent well, but it was better than the relationships he had with her grandmother and her brothers.

His stomach gave a little rumble causing him to remember that he hadn't eaten all day. He wondered if it was possible to persuade her to get him some food from the kitchen.

It was the only thing he needed at the moment.

His mind started to run around in circles as he got to his door, hearing strange sounds emanating from it. What was going on, he thought to himself.

With a swift push, he opened the door to find his wife in bed with someone else.

This got him petrified. His bag dropped to the ground with a thud getting the couple to turn around and see him with his mouth and eyes wide open.

"Petra?" he gasped wondering where he had gone wrong.

Had it gotten to the point where he was being looked down on by his wife to cheat on him?

What had he done to deserve this?

"Greg," she panicked, panting with a sleazy smile on her face. "I can explain."

But he didn't want to hear it. Whatever explanation she had to give, it would not be good enough an excuse to cheat on him.