“Yo ***** come on!” That was Craig's smiling punk a**. He thinks this s**t is funny. “Give me a sec. This motherf**kah smells like your momma's pu***”. Even Craig had to laugh at that. But for me though, this s**t wasn't funny at all. I was looking for one scrap of paper that was literally worth $100k if not more. “It's cold and you ain't gonna find that sh*t anyways. I'm just here so I can tell everyone Mr. pretty boy was rooting around in a dumpster.” That was my boy but I hated his country a** half the time. But hey, this was something that I had to do. I had to find that copy of an email I had printed out a week ago. It was the only thing between me and about a year of unemployment...if I was lucky. I couldn't have been in that dumpster more 5 minutes and already my brain had made the adjustment to accept the stench in the alley dumpster. Yeah it smelled bad, real bad but you took it like a man and went on if the stakes are high enough. Thank God for that because I had just begun my search and the stakes couldn't be any higher. I needed to find a print out of an email that Lori had sent to me less than 2 weeks ago. As I dug deeper into the half filled bin with Craig doing his best “def jam” impressions, I began to come across more and more paperwork interlaced with the most rancid s**t I'd encountered in my life. Seems that a dumpster behind an office building in down town Chicago was open to everyone. I had expected mostly paper and maybe some coffee grinds but the smell of human waste was everywhere. I kept telling myself I was getting much closer to my goal, my treasure. Maybe that's what blocked out the foul odors that should've had me gagging just about now. The thought of getting paid overcame a lot of things. I guess my sense of smell was just one of these things. When I finally found what I was looking for, it as a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory moment. I had found the Golden Ticket! Well, at least my golden ticket in the form of an printed copy of an email my former boss had sent me last week. An email of all that nasty things she wanted to do to me. That was my Lori. Smart, slim with a nice a** but most of all intelligent. Somehow it had gotten around the office that I was hitting that. Well, not “somehow”. I'd been dropping hints to just about everyone. It never occurred to me that it was it was a big deal or against company policy. S**t, I thought this was typical man stuff. I should have known. I wasn't ready for the big leagues. Honestly, it was foolish luck that I had made a copy of the email. I'd printed this one out to do a little bragging to my buddies (mostly Craig's dumb a**). But I'd been fired unceremoniously only 2 days after this email. My desk cleared out and my laptop back at IT. I didn't have any evidence. Worse yet, since Lori and I had been fooling around I'd pretty much ignored my work. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I should've known something wasn't quite right when she agreed to meet me so readily a week later. “Danny,” I hated when she called me that, “this email means nothing. There is no date nor time nor anything that proves I actually wrote it." “But you did.” “Yes I know that I did but you can't prove anything. Even still, I have sworn statements from your coworkers that you haven't done much work the last couple of months. I had every reason to fire you.” “That's because...” “That's because you are not the playa you thought you were. I'm the Oscar in this aquarium. You're a guppy with a long pretty tail but not much else. If you had of been quiet and discreet, we would still be lovers but as with most of you pretty boys, you have to tell somebody. It's not enough to get it, you've got to tell someone.” And there she had me. She was absolutely right. I had nothing but memories of some sweaty nights and good breakfasts. All things considered, that's not that bad.