Biting some serious styles

Jordan Pilato
Transgression in British Literature
Two months ago today I began my new job. I received a promotion for my excellent work and was awarded a position of higher status, co-Director of Administrative Affairs for the DMV with reign in all municipalities within the grouping of 5950C. Of course, before I could actually begin my new position the essential details had to be taken care of: i.e. proper forms were necessarily filed, all transition mandates signed, notarized and postmarked by the correct date, and lastly a request was sent to the bureau of labor for their seal of approval.

My first day I arrived a few minutes early as I was unsure of the security protocol at my new work place and the amount of time it would take me to get through. Although my instructions explicitly stated that I should first meet with my new director on the fourth floor before beginning any other first day formalities; my new assistant Janice Apple had received orders counter to that from the director himself to greet me in the lobby of the building. Janice had my new ID, which enabled me to bypass the security measures.
She was well put together and I appreciated her freshly waxed upper lip. I could tell by the look of her that she was naturally hairy and had to remain attentive to this detail or else she would appear unkempt and slovenly.
I was excited to begin my new job, I could tell because I kept flexing my buttocks in the elevator in order to maintain focus and look more collected. On our ride up Janice informed me that the director would be late this morning and that she was to show me to my new room where I would wait for him until he arrived. When we reached my new floor I was greeted by the familiar scent of industrial strength cleaner and the shine it left on the profoundly simple yet elegant white tile squares. I was brought back to the memory of the first day of school and my first experience with the scent of institutions, a scent that would give me a sense of belonging for the rest of my life. There was a reception desk and waiting area furnished with a large metal filing cabinet and chairs of a composite material that imitated wood.
The receptionist’s name was Karen. She was obese. That is essentially all I remember about her because that is all I saw. I loathe obese people. The very fact that they are obese means they have no appreciation for the natural order of things. I remember hoping very specifically that she would get eaten by a shark. That would restore some order and dignity to the planet. I would have her fired by the end of the month. There was no room for imperfection in my organization.
As we walked toward my new space of work I read the placard on the door, “Simon Stolin” the sight of it confirmed that this was in fact reality. The door opened and as I stepped into my new domain the head of my penis swelled. My balls tingled in excitement as I thought of how jealous my former colleagues would have been to see me in such a position of power. The first thing I saw as she flipped on the lights was an enormous filing cabinet with literally every form, mandate, directive and so on that the DMV had produced in the last twenty years regarding every aspect of motorized travel. I felt faint. I would be unstoppable with such an immaculately organized and well equipped space. I was now on an upward trajectory and felt certain that within a few years I would move on and head an even larger organization of peoples. Perhaps most exciting to me was the fact that I didn’t have a window. I hated windows. Windows got dirty, and dirt is disorder and disorder, well that has no place in the real world. Instead, on the far wall was a flat screen TV with the image of a window and a world outside. Janice must have sensed my excitement and proceeded to inform me that I could even change the weather on the TV to match the seasons.