Don't Stop Believing

"Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't stop! Please, for the love of god, don't stop!" cried Angela as loud as was appropriate.
"Oh man I'm going to come, I'm going to come," cried Walsh.
"Don't you fucking come! Don't you dare stop!"
"I'm going to come!"
"No! Fuck you. Don't you fucking come! Don't! You! Fucking! Come!"
"Arrrrghghghhghgghgh!" Walsh stopped.
"Why'd you stop?"
"I came."
"I told you not to do that."
"Somethings are out of my control you know."
"Ugh." She got off of him and started putting on her clothes.
"Can't you lay down for a bit?"
"If you would have lasted longer I would have a reason to lay down. Just relax, I'll be back with a hot towel."

She left the room. Walsh laid on his back, this is the best he had felt in quite some time. Angela always made him feel better. Always. She walked back into the room.

"Where have you been?' she asked as she applied a hot towel to his crotch.
"Ahhhch. That's really hot," replied Walsh.
"You'll get over it."
"Work. I've been working nonstop."
"Why are you still working there?"
"Why are you still working here?"
"You're a citizen, I'm not. You're young, I'm not. You're a man, I'm not."
"Excuses."
"Flip over." Walsh flipped onto his back. Angela got on the table and started walking on his back. "You're too smart for that job. What is it again, some type of construction company?"
"Yeah," said Walsh. He was half talking and half groaning.
"Why are you still there?"
"Student loans."
"So? You can still apply to other jobs while you work there."
"I guess, they keep me so busy over there I don't even know if I have time to interview."
"Are you applying?"
"No." He could never lie to Angela.
"Well then start. You hate it there, it's not good for you."
"If I get some time, I will."
"Promise me you will."
"I will. I will."
"Good!" She walked off his back and got off the table. "Your hour is up."

The next day Walsh started applying for new jobs. Angela was right, working for his shitty company wasn't good for him. He wasn't making a lot of money, he was working all the time, and there was almost no opportunity to move up in the company. Having said that, he could live with all of it if his boss wasn't just openly racist. He was the only black person working in the IT department. Anytime there was slack to pick up, he would be the one that got delegated the work. Any time there was a performance review, he would always be told he needed to "work harder." He worked the most hours in his department and was constantly told he needed to "step it up." Meanwhile, his white counterparts did half the work and were celebrated for it. Don't be fooled, there were still plenty of establishments in the South that were an "Old Boys Club." Walsh just happened to be working for one of them.

This was never the plan. He was supposed to be a software engineer. That is what he studied in school. But he could never focus in school and he was paying the price for that now. Stuck in a dead-end IT job working for despicable people doing shit that didn't really matter. He knew he had to get out, Angela just gave him the push that he needed. He applied to jobs in software engineering and IT. He was surprised when he was invited to interview for companies in both fields.

"They laughed me out of the building. All the software companies. I don't even know why they invited me to interview," said Walsh. He was laying face down.
"What do you mean?" asked Angela. She was rubbing his back.
"They invited me in just for laughs. Probably because I'm black. I never really had a shot. Once I got there they were like 'You need to have experience in coding.' They knew I had no experience in software. They have my resume."
"Then why would they interview you?"
"I'll give you one guess. And I made it past the first round for one of the companies too. So they had me take a coding test, which I failed miserably."
"So what? That's nothing to be upset about, you tried and you didn't get it. You just need to study more and then you will get it."
"That's what everyone fucking tells me. Work harder. Do more. I'm sick of it."
"Why are you getting so upset?"
"Because some people don't have to work that hard to get the things that I want. And I'm sick of it."
"Flip over."
"What?"
"Flip over now."

Walsh flipped over onto his back. He watched as Angela took off her clothes and climbed on top of him. She got him hard, put a condom on him, and guided him inside of her.

"Do you feel like a man now?" she asked as she started riding him slowly.
"Yes. I can say that I do," replied Walsh.
"Now you listen to me. Don't you ever fucking feel sorry for yourself. Don't you ever fucking complain," she said as she picked up the pace. "You feel that? How does that feel?"
"Really good." Walsh grabbed on her waist.
"That's right. It does feel good. Feels oh so good, right? You like it when I fuck you?" She picked up the pace a little more. "Well, every time you feel like complaining you think of this, you hear me, you think of me....fucking....you." She picked up the pace even more. "Don't you ever fucking complain again! You hear me? You have nothing to complain about. I never want to hear you ever complain again."
"I won't, I won't ever complain again." Walsh put his hands on her ass and started fucking her from the bottom. "I'll never complain again."
"Good. Now don't stop! Don't stop! Don't you fucking stop!"

She fucked the complaining right out of him. The next week Walsh stopped applying to software jobs and focused on IT jobs. Instead of focusing on what he was lacking, he started focusing on what he was packing, metaphorically speaking. He started interviewing aggressively. He was a hit with the IT companies. They loved him, they all wanted him. Turns out that experienced IT workers were in high demand.

He was in a position of strength so he used his leverage. He had three job offers, he called up each one and told them he would only work for them if they paid for coding classes on the side. Two of them declined his request but one company agreed. He signed on the next day. He told his boss at the construction company that he was taking a week off for a vacation. He never came back. Fuck em.

His new job was to run customer support for a stock exchange. It was actually easier than his last job. He worked fewer hours but the hours were different. He had the night shift. He would show up to work at 10pm and work till 6am. He didn't mind at first, he was making double what he made at his old job. However, he also had coding classes during the daytime twice a week. He had to hustle. He pushed himself to work as much as he possibly could.

He didn't love the work but he loved his newfound colleagues. For one thing, they were diverse. Not just black and white but people from all different kinds of backgrounds. He felt comfortable amongst them. Secondly, they all loved to go out and party. Most of them were ex- marines, they drank like fish. They welcomed and included Walsh. He was home.

"You're getting fat," said Angela as she put a hot stone on Walsh's back.
"That's not nice," replied Walsh.
"You are, why don't you go to the gym?"
"I don't really have the time."
"Don't have the time to look after your health?"
"I thought that's why I have you. You look after my health."
"Wow, Prince Charming. Someone is in a good mood."
"Yes. Yes, I am."
"Why are you happy? You are never happy."
"Life is good. Work is good."
"Oh, you're getting happy and fat."
"Stop it. You're dangerously close to hurting my feelings."
"Are you a software engineer yet?"
"You know I'm not."
"Then why are you happy?"
"I don't know. I will be one someday."
"When? You have been working this job for two years now. Still not a software engineer."
"I'll get there."
"Fat people don't get anywhere. They're fat."
"Okay stop." Walsh turned over. "Come here." He tried to grab her waist.
"No. I'm not in the mood today. Come back when you're a software engineer."

Angela was right. Walsh had gotten fat and lazy. He was still working mostly night shifts, what did he have to be happy about? He had been coding too little and drinking too much. What started out as a weekly happy hour turned into every week benders. He was usually too hungover the next day to function, much less work on his coding skills. The very same coworkers that started out looking like a new family now looked like a group of alcoholics looking for someone, anyone, to drink with.

Walsh did not want this life for himself. He started to feel complacent in his life, that was a sign that it was time to move on. Life is nothing if you are not pushing yourself. Angela was right. She was always right. The next day Walsh opened up his LinkedIn and started applying for jobs again. This time he was going to make a real run at the software engineering title.

His coding classes stopped six months ago. The course his company paid for was up. He had learned a lot but, if he was honest with himself, he could have gotten more out of them. His vices got the best of him. Still, he was the best coder he had ever been, he owed it to himself to try. After a few weeks of applying, he landed an interview at Google. They were opening an office in his city and they were hiring locals. Walsh was ecstatic!

He got through the first interview but still came up short on the coding test. His skills were still not up to par. But, he was invited for another meeting with them. He didn't know what to expect when he showed up for the meeting. Google, as it turned out, was also in the market for IT people. Fucking IT, once you're in they never let you out. They were willing to hire him in an IT role while they trained him for a software engineering role. They were also doubling his salary. The offer seemed too good to be true, Walsh couldn't turn it down. His co-workers at the exchange threw him a happy hour to celebrate him moving on. What else would they do?

Two weeks later he started working for Google. He was finally working normal hours for an exceptional company. He didn't let any of this get to his head. He learned from his past experiences. Instead of getting complacent, he started working harder. He didn't touch alcohol for his first three months at Google. A year later they promoted him to software engineer. He achieved the title he had coveted for so long. They doubled his salary again. He made it.

"Where's Angela?" asked Walsh as he approached the lady working at the front counter.
"She's gone," replied the lady.
"Where did she go?"
"She moved."
"To where?"
"We don't know."
"Did she leave her contact info?"
"No, she didn't."
"So there's no way for me to get in touch with her?"
"No. We have other girls here, new girls, very beautiful."
"No thanks."

Walsh walked out of the parlor. He threw the bouquet of roses in the trash, got in his car, and drove off.