One. Everyone who did not include their address when they emailed blog@subtledig.com for the free shit needs to send another email with their full mailing address. That is, of course, if you want some random Life at 160 crap. continue reading »

“[redacted]!” Abby screamed, “You’re just in time!”

The crowd turned towards me; my face slowly crimsoned.  Like the catastrophic surprise party attempted by my parents when I was a prepubescent, I was underprepared for such unanimous attention.  I grinned through the irritation and walked towards Abby, who was decidedly more cheerful than before my departure.  As I opened my mouth to inqure about the scene, Abby insisted on a disgusting display of tongue-filled affection.  Still mid-kiss and still confused, I looked around the room at the faces, each staring right back at me, grinning, judging. continue reading »

Less muffled than before, presumably now sticking her head out of the shower, Abby responded, “So you don’t want to try for two?”

“No.”

Harsh and abrupt, though not an insult, I saw no reason to jeopardize her memory of our first, perfectly pleasurable fuck with an awkward, clumsy encore in the shower.  And I was hungry. continue reading »

Just like that, I spent a full day’s salary.

I pushed my feet against the desk, reclining my Aeron as far as possible, and considered the situation.  According to the American Airlines website, Abby’s plane was to land in Dallas around three-thirty; it was seven-thirty.  So long as she was in town, I couldn’t see myself coming into the office, more for fear of leaving her unattended in my loft than anything more romantic.  I knew a number of associates planned on treating the week as a normal workweek, not even taking off for Thanksgiving.  In order to compensate for my upcoming, Abby-provoked absences, I decided to do something for my firm that I hoped I could avoid throughout my entire career, apply myself. continue reading »

I had been awake for twenty minutes before I opened my eyes, not because, as occasionally happens, my rest was extraordinarily pleasing, but because, as more often happens, I was hungover. Though I was in my building’s mostly dim parking garage, in my mostly dim TL, the scarce light had been too much for my worn eyes to handle. continue reading »

Spoiler warning: This post contains information that post-dates the end of the Billed Hourly Thanksgiving series and could alter how you view the story. I’m also aware that the next Billed Hourly post isn’t up yet. Paul has the post, he’ll presumably post it when he’s ready. This post, the one you are about to read, is a very quick explanation of why I couldn’t get Paul the replacement copy of the post until January 1. continue reading »

Having Halloween on Saturday is a mixed blessing. On one hand, I had enough free time to fly to New Orleans and steal Johnathan’s Halloween idea. On the other hand, my bank balance is fourteen-hundred dollars less than it was on Friday when I left work. continue reading »

The following is an edited compilation of a number of emails and aim chats I had with the writer of the former SubtleDig blog Billed Hourly. I did my best to make it fluid but there it still jumps around quite a bit. She’s also offered to field additional questions in the comments section for the next few days, though I will be deleting anything inappropriate. continue reading »