Discuss the story in this thread
Day Off: A Humorous 007 Misadventure by Ed Harris
Frustration.
James Bond wasn't a man easily given to that emotion but at that very moment it was just about all he was capable of feeling. Sitting on the M-25 he tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he looked out at the sea of traffic in front of him. He glanced in the rearview mirror of the rented VW Bug he was sitting in and smiled thinly at the setting sun. "Some day off. At the very least," he thought "I'm almost home so this blood awful day can come to an end."
The day had started normally enough, he went through his usual daily rituals and had the usual breakfast. He called up a lady friend he had met a few nights ago and arranged a lunch date, there was a nice little pub that opened up in Newcastle that was supposed to have very good sandwiches. After a little bit of back and forth they had finally agreed on dinner at his place at around seven with him doing the cooking.
Bond walked out to the DB5 Q-Branch had given him as a personal vehicle and drove off, heading for a little gourmet market he had discovered a few weeks prior that had the best tasting fish he had ever tasted. He planned on a simple but tasty meal of grilled fish over a bed of rice served with potatoes and asparagus accompanied by a fine white wine. Bond smiled at the thought, briefly remembering an instance where the wrong wine choice had saved his life.
His reverie was broken by a strange clanging sound coming from the interior of his car. Frowning slightly he decreased speed to see if the noise would stop, nothing. Bond furrowed his brow and pulled over to the side of the road, opening the hood and getting out to see what the problem was. He glanced down as he saw a thin stream of fluid coming from behind the front left tire.
"Damn."
One quick call to the Auto Club later and he was sitting in the cab of a tow truck being driven by a rather unpleasantly odoured man by the name of Onslow. The drive to the mechanic was refreshingly quiet, much to Bond's delight as he really couldn't think of anything to say to the man past the general pleasantriesd one trotted out for decorum. He wished he could have called into the office and had Q-Branch fix him up with a temporary car but M had ordered him to leave the office alone while on his days off, something he was normally hard pressed to disagree with.
At the garage, his mechanic had some bad news for him; a small leak in the transmission had grown into a slightly large one and the entire thing would need to be replaced. He could have it ready in two days. Bond nodded in assent, he had trusted the man with his car for years and had every confidence that he could nurse the DB5 back to health. His confidence faded however when he went to the car rental place a block and a half down and found that all they had were junky, past their prime cars that looked like they had nevetr been new...ever. Bond went up and down the aisles, frowning in disgust at a Yugo from 1985 that looked as though somebody had decided to test the durability of the car with a sledgehammer. He finally settled on a red VW Bug that was easily the best looking of the lot, the dents in it had been covered with the good brand of Bond-O.
He drove off in his rental car and headed for the market. Entering the small store, he exhaled deeply and took in the sight before him. It was a rather modest looking market, probably the size of a small warehouse with only three checkstands and a pleasant, inviting atmosphere. It reminded him of the office Sir Miles had, reminescent of a Naval captain's quarters with oak walls and pictures of sea battles. Bond smiled thinly as her headed for the meat counter. He greeted the butcher and placed his order, two sole fillets, lean cut.
After grabbing his fish, he picked out the other ingredients for the meal, smiling at a pretty lady who was in the produce department. As he got towards the checkstands, his good mood darkened slightly as he saw a very long line and only one open checkstand. He called the produce lady over and asked what the problem was, learning that there was only one checker in and the other departments had refused to do any time in the checkstands until their normal duties had been completed.
Bond sighed and thanked the lady, heading for the back of the line. He stopped and smiled as a woman told her young child for what was probably the tenth time judging from the tone of her voice, to stop hanging desperately onto each item she was placing on the conveyor belt. He shared a glancer with a man who hadf come up behind him with one item and they watched as the woman nearly had a nervous breakdown as the checker watched stoically. The bagger however was blatantly holding in a huge guffaw of laughter as Bond could tell from his intense bagging of the groceries, staring daggers at the bag as he placed each item inside.
"This kid would be a horrible undercover operative.", Bond thought. After the lady dragged her kid out of the store with her groceries, Bond noticed the bagger and checker exchange a look that pretty much spoke for everyone who had witnessed the episode. The next few orders went by smoothly with the bagger and checker almost flowing into a single entity. Bond found himself fascinated by this mundane scene, noticing how deftly the bagger got out of being chewed out over some minor detail by a grouchy customer by simply bagging the groceries as fast as he could and then excusing himself to use the lavatory.
After a while, the bagger returned as Bond was approaching the checker, placing his order on the conveyor. The two old ladies in front of him were debating the merits of different canned prunes. Bond smiled to himself as he wondered how on earth one could tell the difference. The moment was broken as the ladies suddenly started arguing with the checker over how the bagger was doing his job. Bond sighed and tried to back away a bit from the scene as the lady in front of him was waving her arms around wildly.
Bond turned as the commotion continued as the man behind him took that oppurtunity to ask he could get in front of Bond. Bond replied in the positive, better to let this guy get knocked out by some spastic old cow. The argument continued as the manager was called over and Bond found himself wishing that some international incident would come up so he cvould simply get home and start dinner. The argument continued with the manager and the bagger arguing with the old women while the man in front of Bond paid for his item and left quickly, glaring at the women with disdain. Bond leaned against the checkstand and shared a glance with the frustrated looking checker.
"Nice day, eh...", Bond leaned in to examine the man's name badge, "Ted?"
"Sod this! I'm going on my lunch!" caused Bond to turn his head as the bagger ripped of his apron which was suddenbly grabbed by one of the ladies, preventing him from leaving as she continued to yell at him while the manager tried to calm her down.
Ted smiled wryly as the bagger threw up his hands, abandoning his apron, and stormed off to his lunch break. "Nigel had better watch it, the boss'll have it in for him later." Ted muttered.
Bond moved forward, approaching the manager as he argued with the ladies.
"Excuse me," Bond said, clearing his throat and getting the attention of one of the women.
"I've had a rather bad day so far, my car broke down and it will probably cost me half of my salary and for the better part of ten minutes I and the rest of these people have had to listen to you two silly cows going on like banshees about the work habits of a young man who no doubt is cursing the day he was hired here at this very moment. Now I don't especially care to get involved in the matters of others but I would very much like to get out of here in my rental car and have the very nice dinner I'm going to pay several pounds and shillings to make possible."
The two women ignored him and went on arguing and Bond rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Some days you just can't get anything done", Bond muttered to noone in particular. He stepped out of line and placed his groceries back where hen found them, apologising profusely to the butcher who was perplexed as to why this man was returning perfectly good fish simply because he was hacked off at some old bats.
Bond left the store briskly, passing the old ladies who were now being yelled at by the manager for costing him business. He turned and saw the bagger come downstairs with a bag and exit, getting into an expensive sports car and driving off. Bond shook his head and wwent inside a nearby store to use the phone, he generally disliked cell phones as they just seemed to be more trouble than they were worth to him. He called his lady friend and told her of his day. After a little bit of debate it was decided she would bring food from a nearby eatery that Bond enjoyed.
Bond shook his head as he sat in traffic, inching forward slightly. He sighed slightly. "Some day off."
THE END OF DAY OFF: JAMES BOND WILL RETURN